Taking Goat Selfies in the Amsterdam Forest

May, 2015

Sally and I went on a bike ride to the Amsterdam forest today! The ride there through the city was quick and once we entered the forest, super tall trees towered over the path and shaded us from the sun. Everything was so, incredibly green. It was stunning. We found a field by a lake and decided to camp out there. We put our picnic blanket in the shade of a nice tree, took off our shoes, and got out our books. The temperature was 25 degrees and there were no clouds in the sky, both rarities of Amsterdam in May.


We spent a few hours by the water, consistently distracted by the other people in the field. A group of teenagers sat nearby, smoking and looking cool. An old Dutch woman sat, topless, her saggy, yet remarkably firm breasts hanging out, next to where some children were playing a rousing game of football. An extremely handsome man came over to the water front and played fetch with his dog. The time got away from us.


When it was time to move on, we packed up our things and asked the handsome dog guy for directions to the goat farm. Yes. The goat farm. He had no idea where it was, so we went in the opposite direction of where he said it wasn’t… We biked through what Sally called, “carpets of flowers” which were beautiful, and a bunch of tall ass trees!!! We really didn’t know where we were headed until I saw a sign that said something about “geiten” and an arrow pointing down a path we hadn’t gone down yet. I pointed the direction of the sign’s arrow, and exclaimed “THAT WAY!” We cycled and Sally asked how I knew. I told her the sign said “geiten” which means goat in Dutch. How do I know that? From eating so much goat cheese.


We arrived at the goat farm and jumped right in. Literally. We climbed into the goat’s pen. Pen? Cage? Room? Anyways. There were tons of them. AND PIGS! They came over to us and nibbled on our clothes, backpacks, shoelaces, hair, really anything they could put into their mouths. Instead of being annoyed with the goats for doing this, we took the opportunity to take a million selfies with them. They came so close, and probably assumed we had food in our hands, when we held our phones out, they sniffed them. I have a million goat selfies. This is not a thing I am ashamed of. I think these are the best selfies I have ever taken. Hands. Down. Soon, the goats nibbling on our clothes, backpacks, shoelaces, hair, and really anything they could put into their mouths, DID become annoying, and it was time to leave. We went to the washroom to wash the shit off our shoes (and Sally’s pants), and scrub our hands.


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