Sick/Amesterdam

In the morning I had never felt so sick, but I knew we had to leave soon for the train that would take us out of this sad-luck country. I was retching in the bathroom when my sister walked up, freshened and fully rested. We walked down stairs -- well my sister walked and I slumped. The attendant gave us directions to the nearest bus station that would take us to the train station, and my stomach did a flip.
Once we had walked to bus station I sat head in hands while my sister told me not to look so sick. When the bus came it was crowded with people and faces and fumes. I stood swaying back and forth while the bus swerved around corners and dodged little cars. Once we finally stopped my stomach couldn't take it anymore, and I elbowed my way out to the street where I let forth a steamy mixture of 'shitzle and beer.
On our way out of Berlin I slept in my seat while my sister ate strawberries and passed incredulous looks at me.

That evening we arrived in Amesterdam, and caught the tram to the street out hostel was on. That hostel wasn't nearly as bad as the last one, and it seemed our luck was turning. We left the bags and went to dinner at a Thai place down the street. We then set out to see the town. Narrow streets and lengthy canals winded our way to the Ben and Jerry's on the main drag, and then to a Irish Pub where we watched a duet play and I sipped whiskey while tapping my foot.
I was surprise that the city hardly smelled like weed, and there was no cloud of smoke rising from the streetside cafes. I knew also that we'd get into that sooner or later, but it'd have to wait. We were going to Brussels tomorrow for a few days, but we'd return, and when we did I expected to indulge in the one custom that set Amsterdam apart from any other country.
We turned in early, and my stomach almost felt normal again.