Amsterdam City of Youth

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The Dam Square Best Western nearly defeated us. We flew all night, took the train from the airport, I very nearly walked right into this narrow silent train, and we rolled the wheelie suitcases up and down cobblestone streets. The streets are not the only stoned nouns in Amsterdam either!
Embarrassing not to somehow know streets can be alleys and street signs can be blue placards mounted high on brick walls. We circled Dam Square several times, and yes, called it by its first name with a jet lagged irritated familiarity! Oh Dam Square, where art thou? And then ... A hustle to avoid a gazillion bicycles and a silent little train, there it was.
Next door, a French restaurant. Across the way, and up the way too, seed shops. Or herbal whatever's. Of all the people in my world who made it out of the 60's, I can say honestly Butto and Honey would have zero interest in those herbal opportunities. And control freak that I can be (I alphabetize things much as my categorizing archiving collection loving kid does), I am not the least tempted either. Jeff has easily distracted attitude, so he walked down some alleys to identify smells, and we moved on. We grow older, we do.
If I can upload the photos, I will.
Cologne next stop. Very weird to be reading "In the Garden of Beasts" by Erik Larson and heading into Germany.

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