Amsterdam

Booze, sex, and drugs. And parks--grassy parks, just right for lazing in. In fact, glancing around the Vondelpark during our own eight hours of sunbathing, I was surprised. It was 2PM on a work-day and it was packed. How do they get anything done here?

Simple answer: they don't. We visited more than one museum that noted the Dutch heyday was the 17th century, and damn it, that's good enough for us. As proof for those who think I'm being flippant, we also visited more than one museum proclaiming "Grand re-opening: Spring 2008" on their shuttered doors. Through the haze of pot we counted the seasons on our fingers. Dude. It should be open by now. Maybe that explained all the sweaty, burly men in construction safety vests in the Vondelpark on a work-day. 'Course, it'd make more sense if they weren't wearing only the vest. (In Germanic languages, it seems that 'v' is pronounced as an 'f' sound -- all in all, the Vondelpark was a rather vestive place.)

Amsterdam was very picturesque. Venice must have a great PR crew: of the three cities with canals that we visited, Venice was the most hyped and least enjoyable. Amsterdam pulled down a comfortable second behind Bruges. It was a good thing we had a plane to catch as I would have been content to spend months stretched out in the parks, reading books in the sun, pausing only to rehydrate with a beer from the nearest street- (park-?) meat vendor.

Amsterdam was an excellent capstone to a great trip, even to Jenn and I, who had no vested interest in the place. (Sorry, had to get the last travel puns off of my...vest. Not there's anything wrong with that, mind you.)