2006 August Amsterdam
Our cool and groovy Condo near the center of Amsterdam.
Another object lesson for Gerrit
Our Condo again from the inside.
We did a lot of looking at this map.
Gerrit, while very cute, was no help at all in the map department.
View from our window.
Same view, further down the canal.
Just to prove we were there.
More map troubles.
We saw more of that map than anything else.
The pram dealt with the cobble stones quite well.
Compulsory canal shot.
Yes, we were really there.
The street cafes were fantastic.
Bikes and canals, can you tell it's Amsterdam?
The map finally comes in handy..... for someone else.
Ah.... Dutch cuisine.
Just enough time for a quick fag.
A man and a canal.
That stupid map again!
A place for that well known Australian ice cream.
OK, so we saw a lot of these, we had to take pictures of something.
This is how Dutch people move furniture.
Our local street cafe was a favorite place of ours.
Guess what we're doing now.
This jacket seemed to follow us everywhere.
There's a china town in every city I guess.
Gerard felt right at home.
Not many red lights, but you get the idea.
Proud family portrait.
More with the jacket.
Both the train and the GPS unit seemed to know where we were.
And that's where we were.
Cousin Joke picks us up at the station
Joos, took us for a delightful seafood lunch.
Where we enjoyed the herring.
Well, most of us enjoyed it.
One of these things is not like the others.
Family shot.
The jacket gag continues to amuse.
Sallie at least is amused by something.
The meeting point at which we continually failed to meet.
Gerrit may be small but he has a lot of stuff.
Interesting steps, especially after a few Dutch gins.
At least I could work out how to use the thing eventually.
More famous Dutch food.
Not very good for you, but lovely to eat.
Sallie enjoying the boat ride as usual.
See how she fits right in?
More of Sallie the mega-tourist.
Sallie misses another interesting view.
These small boats are everywhere.
See what I mean?
The entrance to our flat.
Even the dogs rode bikes.
In fact most every one did.
Cloths either wet or missing in action meant Gerard's underwear really got around.
See what I mean about wet cloths? The drier stopped working of course.
Cold morning with damp burnt trousers. Ah what happy campers.
On our way to Prague.
Don't dry your pants IN the oven.... they catch on fire.
Final beer in Amsterdam.
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