FROM PARIS TO AMSTERDAM: AN UNFORGETTABLE EURO ROAD TRIP ADVENTURE!

Working for a multinational company has its perks, and one of them is the chance to travel abroad. Whenever I get the opportunity, I make sure to explore the place, even if I'm flying solo.

On a trip to France, I had a colleague who had recently joined our team and was stationed in Paris for a year. We connected over our love for travel and decided to plan something if I ever made it to Paris. Lo and behold, a few months later, I got the chance to be there for a month.

We concocted a brilliant plan for our Euro trip: renting a car and driving from Paris to Amsterdam. I had previously traveled to Amsterdam by bus, so I felt somewhat confident. Since it was just the two of us, we decided to keep things spontaneous, renting a car and staying in the same hostel I had stayed in before.

Thanks to our company's partnership with a car rental company, booking the car was a breeze. We ended up with a Nissan Note hatchback, which seemed like a nice compact car. Little did we know it was a giant by Indian standards, equipped with fancy features like GPS navigation and cruise control. My colleague, who boasted about his countless drives, eagerly volunteered to take the wheel. But as soon as he started the engine, it was clear something was amiss. He began sweating profusely and looking utterly confused. Turns out, driving a left-hand drive car isn't as easy as it sounds, especially when you're in an unfamiliar country and about to embark on a cross-country drive at night. We fumbled our way out of the parking lot and onto the right path, relieved that we hadn't caused a parking lot pile-up.

With a shaky start behind us, we hit the road. Our first challenge was figuring out how to operate the GPS system. Setting Amsterdam as our destination, we began driving. The Schengen area's lack of border checkpoints meant we crossed into another country without even realizing it. However, this also meant deserted roads if we got lost, and trust me, we did. Both of us being GPS novices, we missed an exit and spent an hour trying to find our way back on track. But the silver lining was the impeccable driving discipline we witnessed. No rush, no honking, just everyone gracefully adhering to lane discipline. About two hours into the drive, my friend finally got the hang of the left-hand drive and the GPS system. From then on, the drive became enjoyable, accompanied by the music that had been playing from the start (which we hadn't noticed). He even got confident enough to use the cruise control on the highway.

During our journey, we made a pit stop at a petrol station to refresh ourselves. Those highway petrol stations are a godsend for travelers, providing rest areas, food, clean restrooms, and friendly staff always ready to assist. We reached Amsterdam around 3 am and parked the car at one of the Park and Ride (P+R Amsterdam) car parks outside the city. It was a genius concept, reducing congestion within the city while offering visitors an affordable parking option. We slept in the car until 6 am and then took a ride to the city center, stopping by the tourist information center to gather brochures and pamphlets. On our way out, we stumbled upon two lost Indian guys who had arrived in Amsterdam on a whim but couldn't find affordable accommodation. We invited them to join us at the nearby hostel, much to their relief. Fortunately, there were available rooms, and we all checked in.

Now, if you're staying in a hostel, brace yourself for the basics. It's a budget-friendly place with simple amenities and typically includes breakfast (usually basic fare like toast, cereal, fruit, boiled eggs, and the like). You'll want to wake up early to snag something to eat in the dining hall. Remember to bring your toiletries, towels, and even a lock for the provided locker (sometimes they only offer the space, and you can buy a lock from them).

After quickly freshening up, my friend and I ventured out into the streets of Amsterdam, strolling alongside the picturesque canals, indulging in local cafes, and enjoying a good pint of beer. The weather was on our side, allowing us to capture countless Instagram-worthy photos. In the afternoon, we returned to the hostel for a nap. By the time we woke up, the sun had almost set, and the city glowed enchantingly under the lights.

I had my heart set on trying a space cake or smoking a joint, but my friend wasn't keen on either. So we set out in search of a café to relax in. Eventually, we stumbled upon a place with "Goa" in its name and walked right in. Little did we know, we had stepped into a marijuana hot box. The air was thick with smoke, and everyone seemed to be in a blissful haze. I approached the counter, behind which a selection of alcohol and smoking paraphernalia was neatly arranged. Displayed beneath the glass countertop were an array of ready-made joints, just waiting to be bought and smoked. Feeling unsure, I confessed to the girl behind the counter that I wasn't a regular smoker and wanted something that wouldn't knock me out. She suggested a mild joint, and I happily obliged, purchasing one packed neatly inside a transparent plastic tube shaped like a joint. We found a table and settled in for our smoky experience.

As I leisurely took my first puff, my friend proceeded to light his cigarette. Suddenly, a café employee sprinted toward our table. He promptly informed my friend that regular cigarettes were banned inside the café as they diluted the marijuana experience. He gave my friend two choices: smoke his cigarette outside or indulge in a joint instead. So, there I sat, puffing away at my joint while my friend ventured outside for his cigarette break, only to join me later for a stroll.

We wandered through the city center, had a delightful dinner, and returned to the hostel. With plans to see windmills in the morning and then drive back to Paris by afternoon, we decided to call it an early night. But just as we were getting ready for bed, we heard a knock on our door. The two Indian guys we met earlier were standing outside, looking relieved to see us. They declared there was nothing much to do in Amsterdam and requested to join us on our journey back to Paris, rather than waiting for their night bus.

The next morning, the four of us enjoyed breakfast together and set off for the windmills. It was a pleasant drive to the outskirts of the city, where Amsterdam's rich fishing village history was showcased through its iconic windmills.

Our journey back to Paris was incident-free, with a delightful detour through the beautiful city of Brussels. Every building there seemed like an architectural masterpiece, enhancing the city's overall charm. We explored a bit and then continued our drive back to Paris.

Anxiously mindful of returning the car on time to avoid any fines, we picked up the pace and relied on our newfound driving confidence. We arrived in Paris punctually, bid farewell to our newfound travel companions, and returned the car.

The following day, my friend checked his credit card statement and was taken aback to find an unexpected fine. The car rental company emailed us a receipt in French, leaving us clueless about the exact infringement. To this day, we remain uncertain which of our "special" Indian driving skills caused the fine—frequent lane switches, a lead foot, or even stopping on the highway. Whatever the reason, the entire experience is one we'll never forget in our lives.