I've returned from a week away in Amsterdam, which I visited with my mum. The two of us were last there together in the winter of 2005 (although I've been back since, mainly to change trains en route to Matthias's family in Germany), and it was great to revisit the same places in the sunshine — and discover the city, much changed.

I kept a haphazard paper journal throughout the week, and will transcribe it behind the cut.

( Canals like the veins of a city )

I've put up two photosets over at ronnidolorosa: a general Amsterdam batch, and a collection of cats.

The less said about the chaotic journey home the better (suffice it to say that I made it onto my Eurostar train in Brussels with twenty minutes to spare), but I returned to a fully stocked fridge (so many strawberries and tomatoes!), a bottle of pink sparkling wine, and an incredibly lush garden.

I'm only peripherally engaged with the men's World Cup, but I accidentally stumbled into a very Balkans corner of Instagram, and discovered the absolute banger that is the Bosnian team anthem (a thirteen-year-old song about the bittersweet experience of being an immigrant, reworked by the surprised and ecstatic fans into an anthem for their team). It's so catchy, and the video is gold!



Now to catch up with ten days' worth of Dreamwidth!