On my last day in Amsterdam I discovered Vondelpark and I wish more than anything I had found it earlier. That said, it wasn’t like I needed to retreat because the city was so picturesque I happily wandered the canals for hours, admiring the murals, piles of bikes (that looked like snowbanks post-plowing), beautifully dressed Dutch women toting equally stylish children, and trying not to get hit by those carts that a group of people pedal around while drinking beer on. I found incredible markets, museums (including Anne Frank’s house) and accidentally stumbled upon the smallest street (in the world?) which is covered in graffiti. Naturally I tried to take a photo and a prostitute who was nowhere to be seen yelled at me. We then had a lovely conversation, while she was standing there naked, during which I explained that I was interested in the corridor’s art– not exposing her clients and she was actually quite kind witty and friendly. Anyhoooo I wish it hadn’t rained but unfortunately it was a semi-soggy time. I did get stoned with my Japanese suite-mate and was coerced to drink with a random group of Dutchmen in a bar after they lost a big soccer game though, was dragged to a slew of clubs there by some friends I met in Paris (oh god never again, more on that later), and was offered to stay at the home of an 18 year old boy working at the internet cafe in the train station though. What’s not to love? I. Must. Go. Back.