Travelogue

As neither of us had spent much time in Olde Amsterdam, Mr. Muscato and I have felt free to be flatout, unapologetic tourists (of which, my goodness, there are a great many in this part of the world).

We have admired churches:

And taken in views of picturesque canals:

We have been struck by how very beautiful even the most random things can be - swans, for example, waiting for bread outside a café window:

Joined by friends who live here, we've gone to the most touristic of joints, the equivalents of Mamma Leone (although we've also had some pretty stunning haute cuisine, so we're not total Philistines).

In the former category, though, this floating Chinese joint has 700 seats, extremely amusing waiters, and startling good Peking duck:

Given how stunning so much of the city is, it's all the more striking that Amsterdam is, at the same time, undeniably the place that Modernism went to die (likely in a bicycle accident - they are a serious local menace).

In short, we are having a marvelous time, regretful only that every passing pleasure brings us that much closer to our return to the infernal heat and August dust of the coast of Arabia.

A realization to which we react by quickly finding another café and having as silly a cocktail as the menu allows.