It was cold and rainy and windy here as the sun set in Amsterdam this All Hallows’ Eve. Spent most of the evening inside the hotel as the cold rain tink-tanked against the glass. Sorry, she said, my personality has a very icy side. Are you going to leave me?

More museum runs and much more wandering today. Walked all the way down to the south side of the city and through the Jordaan neighborhood again; saw Anne Frank’s House; Amsterdams Historisch Museum; De Nieuwe Kirk; De Oude Kerk; Rembrandthuis; revisited the Royal Palace and surroundings… explored a few neat outdoor markets…. I may stay here a bit longer .. am intrigued by the impending “Museum Night” (and I am just really digging this city) .. or may head to Copenhagen or Milan or Vienna. Decision point tomorrow night.

Amsterdam is creative, libertarian, intellectual and alive.

I saw a photography exhibit today that blew my brain out with its stunning and humbling imagery. I cannot remember the photog’s name but it will come later.

[Edit: The photographer is Yann Arthus-Bertrand.]

Meanwhile, I hope my set of pictures from today conveys a little of what I’m feeling.

As I stepped into hers, it was love at first sight. I fell hard. Fetching, classy, majestic, bigger-than-life. Electric. Acoustic. A steely yet warm pulse that I could feel and see flowed down her busy streets. Steeped in tradition yet unapologetically edgy and modern; classically gorgeous and unashamed of her salacious side.

To peek into her closet would be to find her favorite mahogany mink, a string of the rarest pearls, and four-inch stilettos.

She always wants to do something; to show me something. Once in a while it’s garish, but most of it high-minded, vibrant, creative. Her sensory fingerprint is much like her canals; right when you think it could to be too much, she somehow keeps things on the good side of overflow.

She looked back at me as if she could have me if she wanted, but hadn’t yet decided. It was hard for me to play it as cool.

Yup, sweet Jesus, she’s going to break my heart.

I woke up in my Brussels room five minutes before the alarm went off, with a nasty feeling of head congestion that felt like I could barely breathe. As I got up and about it dissipated, and I hope the blame can be laid on the air in the room rather than some developing malady.

Since I want to be in Amsterdam for the Hallowe’en weekend, I decided to head up there today via the intercity train from Brussels. Today Brussels was rather gray, with a light morning coat of rain. Rather than getting lost by taking the wrong tram, which I did my first night here, I was very proud of myself for catching the proper tram and making it right into Brussels Midi station without a hitch.

Then I stepped into the train station ticket area and within a couple of minutes spoke with an agent who stamped my ticket and told me where I should board … in ten minutes. Ten minutes? What? No lines, no waiting? No pointless security checks? For this American that was pleasant news. Off to platform 20 I went…
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