We spent about 30 chilly hours in Amsterdam. Originally, we only had 45 minutes to change planes to Venice, so we extended our stay to see the city. Marriott Rewards points secured us a free room at the Renaissance, and the warmth of the Hop-On-Hop-Off bus allowed for a nap and two loops of the Dutch sights before our stop at the Anne Frank House. We had bought tickets in advance for this popular attraction. I found that Anne and I had one thing in common with her April 5, 1944 diary entry:

“When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived.”

This is exactly why I write this blog. It’s valuable to me now, but may be valuable to others in the future. My story is not yet quite as compelling, but I should have many years left to vent. As they once used to say, “I buy my ink by the barrel.”

We had an early dinner at Savini, an Italian restaurant right across the street, and promptly hit the sack, exhausted from lack of sleep and an eight hour time difference from home. It was an eventful St. Patty’ Day. However, there was no time for the two things that make Amsterdam famous: Heineken and Hookers.

I got up early and went for a run in high winds and 27-degree temperatures. The wind was so strong it would literally stop me in my tracks, or push me along like a rag doll, as I wound through the bike infested neighborhoods. My goal was to find the Red Light District, but instead found myself lost in a maze of canals and narrow streets, where everything looks the same. At the end of 3 miles, I’m starting to look for a cab, sure that I was nowhere near our hotel. Instead, I stopped at another hotel for directions and discovered that somehow I’m just a few blocks away. Relieved, I see the familiar “R” sign marking the entrance and make my way back to our room, wondering how I possibly found my way back from being so lost.

Our next stop is a “hidden church,” so well hidden, in fact, that no one can find it or knows where it is. The cab driver dropped us off in the vicinity, but it took inquiries with three other people to eventually find our way. It was an entire morning of not being able to find my way, yet we enjoyed the aimless exploring – a “Dutch Treat.”

Once we got to the airport, there were issues with our tickets. We were lost in the KLM system just as we had been lost on the streets of Amsterdam. Fortunately, we had arrived with plenty of time to spare. It gave me more time to write and “shake off all my cares.” Writing seems to be the solution for any hassle.

It’s a good thing that we got to the “Amster damn” airport three hours early because it took that long to get our ticket hassle resolved. Apparently, there was a booking error somewhere between the travel agent, cruise line, and airline. Our tickets for this leg were not paid for, even though we had to pony up for it a year in advance. We ended up having to pay again, after being shuffled from counter to counter, luggage in tote. Double-Dutch! There is a promise to reimburse, but that will also involve the bookkeepers – I won’t hold my breath.

Next stop Venice, another city that’s easy to get lost in. We’ll have three days before the cruise disembarks. In a way, we’re lucky to have made the plane. Now, we just have to get through customs. After experiencing the Dutch airport mess, I can’t wait to see what the Italians have in store for us.