Beautiful canals with tiny crooked old buildings in brown stone, and blossom trees that almost glow white in overcast light.
After dark the city transforms into a seedy place and everywhere smells of pot. You can smell it on the people next to you in the restaurant. Here it is normal.
Bikes rule; pedestrians are at the bottom of the pecking order. Vespas and mini cars also share the bike lane. It is chaotic, but everyone seems to get to their destination. We heard a bike tour guide say 'crossing the road is like paper, scissors, rock'.
We had some great experiences. The house of Anne Frank was a moving insight in to life during the holocaust.
The rooms where she wrote her diary were dark and completely isolated from the outside world. Trav has not read the book but will now.
The Van Gogh Gallery was well laid out, but like the cyclists etiquette was lacking. An interesting insight into the life of a rockstar artist: 10 year career, shot himself at 33.
Red windows, they just shut the blinds/ finally a pair that fit/ canal before sunset
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