An Evening in Amsterdam...

Los Angeles is a city of cars, bumper to bumper everywhere you turn. Rome is a city filled with scooters. But Amsterdam, now this is a city of bicycles. They are everywhere, chained along every sidewalk and sailing down every street. Not the functional 10-Speed bikes of North America. No, these are quaint, old-fashioned, romantic things, with curved handlebars and pedal breaks, with baskets on the front to carry groceries and flowers home from the markets.

The ubiquitous bicycles lend a dreamy, wistful air to this paradoxical city. Amsterdam’s centuries-old buildings and sparkling canals blend strangely with it’s Red Light District reputation and the smell of marijuana wafting out of “Coffee Shops” in some quarters of the downtown.

We wander the city, stopping as we please, since we are still, for one more day, on vacation. At midnight we run breathless through the streets to catch a train, giddy from the air of a place still filled with exuberant people even at this late hour. We collapse into seats near a window and watch the city pass outside. Two girls in turtleneck sweaters, long curly brown hair streaming behind them as they pedal, sailing, soaring through Amsterdam’s nighttime, keeping pace with us in our train. The city lights blur in the water as finally we outpace these streaming-haired girls and crumbling buildings, only to see a couple, the man steering and his woman, side-saddle behind him, staring stately into the night, her arms pressed snugly around his waist.

Watching these nighttime people on their nighttime bicycles as we whip through the city, I feel envious, can imagine the feeling of the wind in my own air and feel their exhilaration. Even Jack sits, transfixed, face to the window, staring at the magical city that we are a part of, if only for one night.

My other favourite flowers :)