Woke up around 10 not feeling too hot. I wasn’t hung-over, but I was a little stiff as my tee-shirt served as my pillow, and I woke up in a pool of sweat as it was a scorcher of a day. We all separated shortly after; I, back to my hostel (called the “Flying Pig” - it is apparently quite a famous hostel) and Beau to his train. That day I visited the Anne Frank house, which was quite stirring towards the end, and afterwards I meandered through a beautiful area of Amsterdam, the Jordaan. This area contains the most beautiful canals and quintessential tall houses that one associates with Amsterdam. It was quiet - quite thankfully because that is exactly what I needed - and I sat at cafes and pondered. One thing that I
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