I don’t understand men, they make the Red Light District out to be some kind of heaven on earth. Why would a woman want to go there?

I envisioned hookers working their beat in the alleyways, sex show grandstanders touting their wares and roving packs of horny guys meandering whooping and shouting at all the women. I thought it would be degrading.

Friday evening after coffee, we decided to find out for ourselves and I have to say, it’s a sexually charged carnival with sad undertones. All the shops blaze in neon and all the windows glow red with one intent. Once you look, maybe you’ll buy. Some of the curtains were closed, the red light still glowing, suggesting that someone was working only a few feet from where I was standing.

Though early in the evening, the streets were alive with the packs of drunken men I knew I’d see, and surprisingly groups of giggling girls and a weird mix of couples like us. Every store front passed pulsed with life; music playing from reggae to Euro-techno-trash, conversations broken by raucous laughter echoing off of the brick walls and the stinging smell of marijuana wafting everywhere.

My eyes were darting around, so much to see here, there and oh my, up there. Of course, the big attraction is sex for sale legally, any way you want or need it. The newest generation of women stood in their windows with red glow lights practicing the world’s oldest profession. Black lights cause their lingerie to pop in neon colors in the night as they sway to music or sit on a stool looking remarkably bored.

Some watch for prospective clients and busily tap on their window to grab your attention. Show any interest or linger too long, or God forbid, make eye contact, they’ll open the door-like window and try to talk you out of your wallet.

All of the entertainment there is not just for one-on-one sex — these narrow streets are the sexopolous of Europe. There are live sex shows, peep shows, videos and even a place called Banana’s that just makes you wonder.

Explicit in their advertising, anyone entering knows what they’re going to get. There are so many shops chock full of the traditional and not so traditional sex toys. Some of the sex shops showcased their toys right in the windows, visible from the street. I had to laugh, do I really need a strap on the size of my leg with a giant fist on the end? That’s just gross.

We decided we needed to go back during the day after some coffee. The daylight revealed a place that seemed nothing like it did at night. It’s a neighborhood, there’s families that live here, doctors that work here and the canals are filled with geese and black bald coots that angrily squawk at the sun. Only those birds broke the silence as we trekked through the district. I notice some red lights in the windows are glowing. This early? Men go out for a 9-amer? Sure, at home, but out? That’s a guy in need.

The ladies working the windows still make me wonder what decisions they made to get there or even if they made that decision. Human trafficking is under investigation and many of the windows they work are beginning to be closed down by the city government. It’s a fine line the city walks as the Red Light District is always a stop when visiting Amsterdam – it’s one of the two things it’s known for. Prostitution will never disappear in Amsterdam, but an effort to clean it up and keep it with willing participants is a good move.

Our last night in Amsterdam, we went back before some coffee. Like visiting a friend, I know what to expect and what to see. We looked in the sex shops and thought of buying a souvenir. That idea was nixed when I realized how naive I still am and will always be. I couldn’t figure out what the string of baseball sized rubber balls attached to a single band are supposed to be used for, but am sure it’s never coming near me. So we laughed and moved on down the road.

Now, I may not always understand men, but I get the Red Light District.

You still find a late deal online. Check today and surprise yourself.