The answer
I'm having a fine time not telling my colleagues where Thomas took me last week - you see, they'd requested a postcard, so I've pointed out (perfectly reasonably, if a little mischievously) that there's no point in my telling them because it'd ruin the surprise when it arrives.
It wasn't in the post on Saturday and today's a public holiday, so they're having to be very patient ... Not so you, dear reader, as I will now exclusively reveal that we were in Amsterdam.
The weather was gorgeous (to the extent that I, with my very sensitive skin, got a little sunburnt) and we had a grand time overall, being cultural on the second day by visiting the Rijksmuseum - sort of "Rembrandt and friends" - in the morning, though deciding the queues for Anne Frank's house were a bit much come the afternoon. The first day we'd spent wandering around in an attempt for me to get my bearings. It struck me that in the vast majority of places, which side of the river you're on is a convenient way of describing your location; a bit more difficult when the city you're visiting is traversed by endless canals!
The one thing that was very much under par was the accommodation. The hotel in which we were staying put us in a dingy little basement room, the only natural light coming from a window in the shower cubicle. As if the softness of the mattress weren't bad enough - it engulfed us both - we were woken up at 8:30am by the sound of drilling in the room underneath. It turned out they were reinforcing the foundations of the building, but as we'd already had a pretty sleepless night owing to the heat, we requested that the builders be asked not to drill before 10 o'clock the next morning.
They started at 7:15am.
Thomas went out to have a word with reception, noticing along the way that there were notes up around the place asking the builders not to drill until 10am - which they'd clearly ignored - and for the following quarter of an hour we heard no drills. What we did hear was hammering, before the drills started again. We got up, dressed and left the hotel in search of silence.
Thankfully that experience didn't spoil my impressions of the city, as I've every intention of going back, possibly with my mother. Just not to that hotel ...
It wasn't in the post on Saturday and today's a public holiday, so they're having to be very patient ... Not so you, dear reader, as I will now exclusively reveal that we were in Amsterdam.
The weather was gorgeous (to the extent that I, with my very sensitive skin, got a little sunburnt) and we had a grand time overall, being cultural on the second day by visiting the Rijksmuseum - sort of "Rembrandt and friends" - in the morning, though deciding the queues for Anne Frank's house were a bit much come the afternoon. The first day we'd spent wandering around in an attempt for me to get my bearings. It struck me that in the vast majority of places, which side of the river you're on is a convenient way of describing your location; a bit more difficult when the city you're visiting is traversed by endless canals!
The one thing that was very much under par was the accommodation. The hotel in which we were staying put us in a dingy little basement room, the only natural light coming from a window in the shower cubicle. As if the softness of the mattress weren't bad enough - it engulfed us both - we were woken up at 8:30am by the sound of drilling in the room underneath. It turned out they were reinforcing the foundations of the building, but as we'd already had a pretty sleepless night owing to the heat, we requested that the builders be asked not to drill before 10 o'clock the next morning.
They started at 7:15am.
Thomas went out to have a word with reception, noticing along the way that there were notes up around the place asking the builders not to drill until 10am - which they'd clearly ignored - and for the following quarter of an hour we heard no drills. What we did hear was hammering, before the drills started again. We got up, dressed and left the hotel in search of silence.
Thankfully that experience didn't spoil my impressions of the city, as I've every intention of going back, possibly with my mother. Just not to that hotel ...
Labels: travel
posted by Anthony at
16:05
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