We barely touched land in Amsterdam and I can feel our time here is already running out. If it wasn't for my sore feet and cumin and wasabi Gauda slices in my bag, I'd say Amsterdam is only yet to happen. And in a way it is - landing on a Sunday afternoon meant we couldn't go into museums or galleries. Instead, we just roamed the city streets, taking in the beautiful architecture, the stunning interior designs that peeked from large old-time windows, the art spread at random across the city. I loved the church bells' chimes cutting the cold December air, the fish-bone pattern of the carmen cobble stones, the skinny pavements where pedestrians had to look out for low-level entrances.
But it wasn't all roses. Marijuana ghosts floating in the air made my head spin almost instantly which was rather unexpected so the coffee shops quickly lost their appeal. It also took us forever to find a place for dinner. I knew that the national dishes are things like sprinkles, waffles, and other sugar based treats but I wasn't prepared for the number of Argentinian steakhouses and sushi restaurants around. Sadly our dinner was not worth the two hours of decision making. But I'm sure the stroopwafels tomorrow will make everything good again.