Amsterdam: Day 4 - Alone in Amsterdam

Peter left at the crack of dawn for a flying visit to Paris.  First the alarm woke me and then the creaking about on the wooden floor.  A great burglar deterent probably but also a great barrier to sleep.  At last the creaking stopped and I heard the front door shut gently. Then the worry set in.  Did the taxi arrive?  Did he remember to take the suitcase rammed with stuff we want in Paris?   I leaped out of bed and ran to the sittingroom window and there was the taxi drawing away.  One worry down!

Shortly after the taxi departed a large lorry drew up outside on the pavement and began unloading scaffolding!  This was 6.0 am! I gave up trying to go back to sleep and made a cup of tea and read my book in bed under the mosquito net.  Yes, a careful arrangement of the net (well tucked in all round) and a spray of something 'natural' to discourage the mosquitoes has worked.  No more new bites.  I'm just waiting for the old ones to stop itching.  It's so unfair, the way they pick on people.

Eventually I got up, had breakfast and walked north along the canal to Westerstraat, past the long snaking queues for the Anne Frank house.   There's a textile market in Westerstraat every Monday, the whole length of the centre of the road.  A complete change of demographic here with poor  people raking over second hand clothes and ethnic minorities buying bright coloured fabrics.  I looked around for a place to sit and read my Guardian and have a cup of coffee.  There are subtle differences between cafés so a glance inside and a quick look over the customer base is required.  I found a café with an artsy crowd, mums in slightly hippy garb, older women in black with large items of silver jewelry.  Ah!  Just right!   The service was quick and friendly, the tables old and assorted, the sawdust on the floor slightly strange.  I hadn't been sitting there long when a woman asked, in Dutch, if she could share my table.  As soon as she realised I was English she didn't stop talking.  In the course of about half an hour I knew her name, her occupation (potter), the names of her family, how she met her husband and how she came to be married to a Welsh farmer!  She was back in Amsterdam for her sister's birthday. I enjoyed talking to her and reluctantly dragged myself away and continued exploring.  Eventually I found somewhere for lunch and had a delicious salad with grilled goat's cheese.

Back to the flat to put my feet up and read my book before going to the shop on the corner to buy something for supper.  On the way I watched a barge dredging for bikes in the canal.  Clearly they have a lot of success.  The back of the barge was full of twisted bicycles.  No doubt there's money to be made.  I thought I'd taken a photograph, but couldn't find it on the camera afterwards.