horns of wilmington's cow

By anth


Muuuuuuuch better day.... It's finny how the sun coming out can brighten a mood so much.

Taking to our feet (to be honest Amsterdam is such a compact city in the centre that you need not use any other method!) we headed down to the Rijksmuseum form a wander round some Dutch masters, and just basically took in the canals; squint narrow houses; some ornate architecture; strange pooh signs; cats (outside the 'cat boat' rescue centre); and Rembrandt's old pad. Basically, without trying, we'd managed to cover 8 of the 10 Must See things from one of the guidebooks (and neither of us are fussed about Van Gogh so his museum was off the list anyway). And we'd managed to avoid wandering through the red light district (not a conscious effort, but a skirt around the side just confirmed the layer of sleaze that just didn't appeal), nor attend a coffeeshop (just doesn't interest me - tried it once years ago and it had zip, zero, nada effect - I'll stick to beer as my drug of choice).

Oh, and a lot of cyclists were watched just going about their business in normal clothes on normal bikes. As Marc said to us, cyclists in Amsterdam are just pedestrians who move a little faster, and a friend back here said that bikes, to Amsterdammers, are shoes. I counted 6. Six. SIX. Helmets all weekend. Amongst thousands of cyclists. Wonderful. The chat with Marc the previous night just confirmed that here they aren't cyclists, just 'dammers who cycle.

To whit:

Family Affair
Crated Dog
David Ginola

And if you want proof that Amsterdam loves bikes? The bike parking outside Centraal Station is IMMENSE.

The evening was spent at another of Marc's recommendations, a restaurant called Greetje, and it was truly astounding. Really really REALLY good meal with some, to coin a phrase, taste sensations.

Last night meant we had a wee wander round the canals by nightlight.

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