You can fit an awful lot of things in the back of a Suzuki 1.3 van.
If you're careful to pack things properly, that is.
Pile the bags and boxes up high, and be sure to make good use of space.
I've discovered through experience however, that a Suzuki 1.3 van is less suited to the task of carrying a shit load of bongs, pipes, lighters, stickers, two personal computers, a ten foot high rubber cannabis leaf suit, a massive stall on which to display the aforementioned items... and me. Huddled in a bloody corner, slipping in and out of consciousness, and being repeatedly awoken by that universal bitch, 'Gravity', who delighted in dropping boxes and bags on me from all angles.
I don't really know who's idea it was to get up at 7am, drive to Harwich (where?!?) and cross the channel on a 4 hour ferry, but stern words will be had, I can assure you.

The ferry journey in itself is enough to fill an entire novel. Limited with space as I am however, I will simply mention Stephen. Stephen is special. Stephen lives in the woods and talks to the animals. Stephen has been in love for many years, with a spirit woman who doesn't actually exist. Stephen has had his soul stolen by a photographer, and Stephen is in pain.
Stephen spoke to me of his troubles for over three hours, while Mark and Space contently lapsed into sleep next to me.

Upon arriving in Hoak Van Holland, the three of us proceeded to get hopelessly lost in an attempt to find our hotel.
Finding Amsterdam by road isn't too difficult in Holland. Once you're actually in the city however...
Bicycles have a tendancy to fly at you from all angles. Cars career round corners giving no indication as to their intentions.
Pedestrians show complete disregard for their own personal safety, as they all race to be the next one to get in the way of your van... Not to mention the hoards of trams...
After asking many passers by, and attempting to read hundreds of Dutch road signs, we eventually arrived at the gates to our hotel... The NH Troppen.

Unpacked, unwashed, and fucking desperate for a spliff, the three of us set out into the night to pick up some Amsterdam weed, and try to forget the previous 10 hours.
As with many of my excursions to Amsterdam, the first stop was Barney's coffeeshop. Of course, we didn't go directly there; but instead fell into what I can only assume is a trap set by the Dutch, to fool stoner tourists into seeing more of their city. I can't help but think that hundreds of years ago, when the Dutch of old were designing the layout of Amsterdam, there were many giggles going around the room at the mental images of stoned English and American tourists attempting to navigate the labyrinth of intricate back roads and alleys.
We made the mistake of following the helpful little green signs that point to Central Station. The route that these signs take you however is probably the longest route conceivable.

Eventually, tired, hungry and still in need of a spliff, the three of us crawled through the doors of Barney's Coffeeshop. Perhaps the only coffeeshop in Amsterdam where you can have a fry up and smoke spliffs whilst waiting for it to cook.We bought some Snow White, and of course the Barney's cup entry, 'Laughing Buddha'. The three of us ate food, smoked many spliffs, and chatted shit to a couple of American tourists, here for the cup... Then after an hour or two, the giggling began. It's hard to know quite how long it continued for, but it wasn't normal.
During this time, Mark decided he would like an apple pie.
We waited for this apple pie to be delivered for what seemed like days. We giggled hysterically at the concept of the staff of Barney's, planting apple seeds, watering them and waiting for an apple tree to grow before cooking the apple pie.
Eventually a member of the very friendly Barney's staff came up to our table, and admitted that actually, they were all a bit wrecked and didn't really know what was going on... He gave us some free drinks, and asked for our order once more.
A little while later, the ("best fuckin' apple pie I've ever 'ad in me life!" - Mark) apple pie arrived, accompanied by free drinks and a complimentary bong filled with more of their cup entry, 'Laughing Buddah'.

A little while later, we decided to move to the Doors coffeeshop.
The Doors played some great music, albeit a little too loud to allow for conversation; however the indica that Mark had bought from their menu was sufficient enough to quash any concept of conversation then and there. The three of us stared at the table for quite some time, and with considerable interest.
Brilliant.
As none of us had really slept in the last couple of days, and all had to be up early for the first day of the cup, we left fairly early (as in, about midnight) to catch a tram back to our hotel.