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There is more to this world than just America,
believe me. I love it when there is an international
poker tournament because it gives me the perfect excuse
to roam the earth. I love going to new places, meeting
new people and experiencing a way of life I‘m
not accustomed to.
 FIRST
STOP: PARIS. The WPT has one European stop per year
– at the Aviation Club. My man Bruno runs the
joint and, believe me when I tell you, Bruno is a cool
dude.
Let’s take a second to talk about the French.
Where do I start? They don’t really like Americans.
Sad to say, but true. They were rather rude to us on
more than one occasion. It actually felt as if it was
a part of the norm for them to be rude. I remember walking
into the store to buy a camera and it was as if the
guy was doing me a favor by selling me a 500-euro camera!
They might not have gotten their manners right when
it comes to non-French people (I am sure they are very
friendly with fellow Frenchmen), but they sure did figure
out the duck liver, or ‘foie gras’ as they
say. They eat it up like butter. And I don’t blame
them: that stuff is tasty. Paris was a very beautiful
city.
If you want to play at the Aviation Club, you have
to bring your passport, and you better not be looking
ragish because you won’t get in. You have to be
wearing a collared shirt, along with slacks (jeans are
OK, as long as there are no holes in them) and dress-up
shoes. No sneakers or sandals – not my style in
the least. I barely went to the casino, because when
I play I like to be comfortable – and that would
entail sweats and sandals. I remember one night, after
a few cocktails, we showed up and I really did not want
to go back to my hotel to change, so Vikki (the hottie
from Canada mentioned in a previous article) went in
and got Robert Williamson’s jacket and Noah Boeken’s
shoes for me. I stealthily threw them on and walked
in! BINGO! I love nothing more in the world than beating
the system.
One of my most enjoyable moments was when I walked
out wearing my sandals and no jacket. The look on the
security guy’s face was priceless!
Second stop: Amsterdam. I had about a week before I
had to be in London for another tournament, so I decided
what better place to chill out than Amsterdam? It’s
only a four hour train ride from Paris, and it’s
a ride I’ll never forget; it was so much fun!
There was Paul (my little bro, Bird), Vikki the Hottie
(a girl I’m kind of digging), Marcel Luske (Mr.
Personality) and Noah Boeken. Noah and Marcel have a
sweet pad right in the heart of the city, so it was
perfect. I think we gambled the whole train ride there.
Amsterdam may even be a little prettier than Paris.
The people there were so incredibly nice (Maybe it only
seemed that way because I had come from Paris).
The city is built around canals and everyone rides
bikes everywhere. The people are free to do whatever
they want to do. And to top it all off, they all speak
English! It was heaven!
I won’t get into too much detail here, but if
you get a chance to go there you have to make a stop
in one of the coffee shops. Now, you either get what
I’m saying or you don’t. Let’s just
say I had a lot of coffee in Amsterdam and I don’t
even drink the stuff!
One night when we were at a coffee shop it started
pouring outside. It was raining so hard there was nothing
to do, so we took one of those bikes you can hire to
drive us back to the hotel.
Because we weren’t tired, we decided to ‘tour’
The Marriot Hotel. We walked everywhere in that place.
We discovered rooms I never knew they had in hotels.
We snuck into every banquet room; we stopped off on
every floor; we even explored the housekeeping room
where they hold all the mops and cleaning stuff. I think
maybe the ‘caffeine’ had something to do
with why this all seemed so interesting to us! For three
hours we walked around this hotel and had such a great
time. What else is there to do at two in the morning?
The red light district. Yikes! This one I will try
to explain but, once again, I have a feeling the editors
wont let me get into it too much! Basically, anything
goes in the red light district. How do I explain it?
Where do I start? On second thoughts, I probably shouldn’t.
Just take my word for it and go there. I promise you
will have a good time.
Oh, and if you are a woman reading this, do not let
your man go without you. Trust me on that one.
Next stop London and Barcelona. To be continued…
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