I do believe the strawberries in Amsterdam are from heaven. While there recently for business, every morning for breakfast I had fresh fruit, a buttery croissant, and on Sunday even added a splash of champagne to my orange juice to turn it into a mimosa for no reason at all. The waiter was a bit flirty, called me ‘Miss’, and even winked at me. Likely he treats all the ladies this way to make them feel special. It worked!
The conference was amazing, but after sitting and listening for nearly three days I was dying to get outside and see more of Holland. A tour of the countryside was needed, so I travelled to Volendam just north of Amsterdam, which is a picturesque fishing village along the shores of the former Zuiderzee.
Volendam looked like some place out of a Dutch fairytale. Even under pewter skies, a light rain, and bracing North winds, it was absolutely beautiful. The row houses were tidy and the little village seemed suspended in time. The canals and gardens were a palette of broad, vibrant colours, neither washed out nor hidden in shadow as they would have been under a hot, brilliant sun.
While in this fabled village I stopped in at a jewelers shop and bought a silver watch with a mother-of-pearl face and a necklace that seemed to have been made just for me. It was as if it were waiting for me to come along. It is made of a silver hammered rectangle that has within its boundaries a moonstone, as pretty as the moon herself, a grey-black pearl the colour of the sea, and a twinkling blue topaz just as clear and bright as a new day. Topaz is my birthstone, so you see, it was truly meant for me.
Volendam was such a striking contrast to the bawdy, raucous ‘red-light’ district of Amsterdam. I doubt the women in the windows under those red lights, or the men who buy their services, understand that the brain is the largest sex organ. Nor would they understand that a deep, lingering kiss or a touch as light as a whisper can be far more erotic than the hard-core sex that was so explicitly promoted. While the crowds, the smells, and the shocking sites in Amsterdam were too raw for me, I fell in love with the countryside of Holland.
Now it is back to the “everyday ordinariness” of my life, and I must say I am happy to be home.
The conference was amazing, but after sitting and listening for nearly three days I was dying to get outside and see more of Holland. A tour of the countryside was needed, so I travelled to Volendam just north of Amsterdam, which is a picturesque fishing village along the shores of the former Zuiderzee.
Volendam looked like some place out of a Dutch fairytale. Even under pewter skies, a light rain, and bracing North winds, it was absolutely beautiful. The row houses were tidy and the little village seemed suspended in time. The canals and gardens were a palette of broad, vibrant colours, neither washed out nor hidden in shadow as they would have been under a hot, brilliant sun.
While in this fabled village I stopped in at a jewelers shop and bought a silver watch with a mother-of-pearl face and a necklace that seemed to have been made just for me. It was as if it were waiting for me to come along. It is made of a silver hammered rectangle that has within its boundaries a moonstone, as pretty as the moon herself, a grey-black pearl the colour of the sea, and a twinkling blue topaz just as clear and bright as a new day. Topaz is my birthstone, so you see, it was truly meant for me.
Volendam was such a striking contrast to the bawdy, raucous ‘red-light’ district of Amsterdam. I doubt the women in the windows under those red lights, or the men who buy their services, understand that the brain is the largest sex organ. Nor would they understand that a deep, lingering kiss or a touch as light as a whisper can be far more erotic than the hard-core sex that was so explicitly promoted. While the crowds, the smells, and the shocking sites in Amsterdam were too raw for me, I fell in love with the countryside of Holland.
Now it is back to the “everyday ordinariness” of my life, and I must say I am happy to be home.
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