Friday. Arrival in Amsterdam. No icebreaker, no name round, no slides. You drop the bag, you see the faces you will sit with for three days. Food. Sleep. The call stays outside until the room needs it.
Saturday. The room. Three modes on your own sentence, not a borrowed script. Safety, belonging, the weigh-in — in the order a brain asks them. Breathwork in parallel if the ritual is not open. In the room: the shaman and sober facilitation.
Sunday. The stance. You take it or you don't. No certificate to replace it. No quota to measure it. Leave before Monday puts the old sentence back.
Amsterdam. Address after booking. No certificate. No quota. No substance shop.