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 A day in the life, beginning with a tall latte and appletorte….

This is NOT pie, not even close.  It is a blend of tart, sweet and juicy apples laid tenderly over a sponge cake and topped with angel’s breath and a wisp of celestial magic.  Gasp-worthy.

The cloudburst, when it hit, was brief and luckily we were in Albert’s picking up our daily groceries.  The plan today was to walk Prinsengracht, a leisurely stroll along one of the most beautiful and iconic canals jutting out from Centraam.   Good plan.  Until we got distracted by a street market, waylaid by a Birra Moretti on a cobblestone corner, and wound up in Vondel Park.   Which is like, win/win/win.

A brief segway for the historians.  The toilets (don’t call them washrooms, or the proprieters look at you blankly) in Holland are utilitarian affairs.  In a land where space is at a premium, it would be silly to budget extra on spacious staircases wide enough to accommodate a human foot.  Instead, passageways that require less than three feet in diameter are de regeur.   A friendly railing is usually installed, to give you hope, encouragement and confidence.  Bungee jumping to the loo is part of the fun, and then speelunking through the dark warrens makes one feel so accomplished, if not relieved.  Up is never as bad as down, but there may be physical reasons for that.

Beautiful Vondel Park was brimming with cheerful people enjoying their Saturday.  We strolled for almost two hours before finding our way out of the park and into an Italian cafe that poured a respectible sparkling wine a la Prosecco, and then the table was graced with panzenella and (for the fellows), paperthin Italian salamis and proscutto that was folded in a sheet of parchment.  A superlative corner to sit and watch the world wander by.

Walking home is always full of pleasant surprises, at least when you’re following my brother.   We know the general direction we’re going but never the streets, so we just keep veering in a general direction.  Rick chimed in occasionally, basing his directional sense on arriving aircraft, which was actually pretty valuable.   A park full of insensible, amazing and startling art entertained us, before picking up our bearings and arriving back to our cozy apartment on Sarphati Park.   Amsterdam is redolent with discoveries.  One just has to lift your eyes and pause.

Me, after I ducked my one millionth bicycle.   All I have left is nerves.

Big fat feet are up, dinner is being concocted and another day is done in this beautiful spot.  Goede Nacht, liefde aan allen.