I very well may have had the greatest nap of all time this afternoon. We are staying in a little houseboat on one of Amsterdam's maze of canals. During the day, little tour boats make their way past us up and down the narrow inner city waterways. By early evening these are joined by private motor boats, smaller still and usually occupied by one or two couples sharing a picnic as they glide atop the still water, under the low bridges and past the shops and bars of the adjacent streets. There are ducks and geese that hang around our "back door" waiting for someone to toss a scrap of bread to them. The girls are happy to oblige.

It was raining hard here this morning so we got off to our usual slow start. We waited in line under umbrellas for tickets to the Van Gogh museum for 45 minutes only to find that our "assigned entry time" wasn't until 2:00 - still two hours away. So be it. We shook our umbrellas off outside a nearby cafe and went inside for coffees, hot chocolates and soup. Our table on the second floor overlooked the busy street below where cars, bicycles and people scurried here and there in the wet weather, which seems to suit this city well. After lunch the girls did some homework while Deb and I reminisced about our soon to be complete adventure with a cold glass of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

Amsterdam is a fun City, but way more fun without kids as I recall. I wasn't quite sure how to respond to the consistent inquiries from the girls about that funny smell coming from the "coffee houses." Honesty has been our policy through all that we've seen this year. But after a million questions on the great pot debate, we decided to give the Red Light District a pass. Amsterdam is not the quant bicycle city that I remember it. The cyclists are crazy here. I've seen smash ups, road rage, traffic jams and been sworn at to get off the bike path. Cyclists hold pedestrians in the same contempt here are they themselves are held by Rob Ford in Toronto.

The Van Gogh museum was worth the full day commitment. In addition to hosting the largest single collection of the troubled artist's work in the world, it is the perfect size for kids. With the help of an audio guide and clever treasure hunt, Deb and I were able to leisurely stroll past the evolution of the master impressionist's style for nearly three hours without having to break up a single knife fight between the girls. The ubiquitous gift shop at the end was selling limited edition, 3D copies of some of the paintings. "What a great idea for a souvenir from Holland," we thought. You should have seen the look of surprise on our faces when the salesperson told us they started at 25,000€ - nearly $40,000 Canadian! The guy couldn't give his paintings away before he died. You know you're a red neck when you immediately start calculating how many tanks of gas for your pick-up truck, ski-doos and chords of fire wood you could purchase instead of that fake piece of art. We settled for three art cards at 1€ a piece.

After a half hour walk along the canal we arrived back at the boat in the continuing rain. Step 1: crack a beer and enjoy the view of the canal splashing with rain drops out our back windows. Step 2: put the potatoes on the boil. Step 3: stretch out like a cat on the day bed next to the kitchen and listen to the sound of the rain on the roof. Ten minutes was all I needed. The bubbling of the pot brought me gently back to reality. "You were snoring Daddy," remarked Mira from behind her book on the sofa across from me. "I only do that when I'm lying on my back and sleeping very soundly," I replied, both of which having been the case. I love naps. I mean really, really love them. I think they are the mark of a civilized society. The problem is that they work so well I can rarely get to sleep at a decent hour later that night. Especially when the German fans, or the Dutch fans hoping for a grudge match in the World Cup final, are still loudly celebrating the thorough trouncing of the Brazilian host team. This might be a good time to sheepishly withdraw my earlier rant about football/soccer being a scoreless snooze fest.

Speaking of my previous post, in my haste to rewrite the rules of soccer, I neglected to mention what a lovely little city s'Hertogenbosch, or Den Bosch, is. On our last day there we spent the day touring about with our friends Frank and Mark who we'd met six months ago in Vietnam. They took us on a fine tour of the city's subterranean canals, the fabulous market and a great sidewalk cafe for lunch. While touring the spectacular cathederal (and we've seen a few!) we were so happy and surprised to meet a young girl with the exact birthmark that Shannon was born with. We introduced ourselves and all went outside to take some photos and share email addresses. It was a special moment for Shannon to meet such a strong, confident and beautiful young lady who was sharing the same experience as her. She will treasure that photo I believe. Frank and Mark treated us to a fabulous home cooked Dutch meal at Mark's apartment before we all bid each other adieu for the second time this trip. We hope to return their hospitality on the opposite side of the pond one day soon.

Tomorrow we take a train to Frankfurt Airport for the night before catching our last flight - to good old Calgary. We started the last "real" day of our year off with a trip to Anne Frank House just around the corner from us. Deb and I had been here before but found this simple museum, in the very rooms where Anne and her family hid from Nazi persecution for two years, just as moving as our first visit. The kids have been reading Anne's diary in the run up to this and were in silent awe standing in the very room where she slept and wrote. The original diaries are on display. Looking at her delicate handwriting it's hard to imagine a world where a young girl was unable to step outside for fear of being arrested, separated from her family and, ultimately, worked to death or murdered. Such atrocities are, of course, still taking place around the world despite the lessons learned, or not, from this awful time not so long ago.

After another snooze this afternoon we visited "Body Worlds." This exhibit, which has toured the world for some years, is now housed permanently in Amsterdam as part of the Happiness project. It is one of the most amazing things I've yet to see. Using real human bodies that have been preserved through plastination, it displays the physiological and emotional determinants of happiness in incredible, vivid detail. Each of the six floors explores a different part of the human body, starting with the brain and nervous system on the top floor and moving down through the circulatory, digestive and reproductive systems. The kids were completely transfixed examining the inside and outside of these real bodies, displayed in a thought provoking and respectful manner. Every single part of the body, and I mean every part, was laid bare either by itself or as a part of a broader human system. Simply fascinating. We capped off the night with a great meal at one of Amsterdam's amazing Indonesian restaurants.

And that's pretty much it! The rest, as they say, is all downhill! In 48 hours we will be back in Canada. I think if we had another two months or a year to go we wouldn't be anxious to get home at all. The mind adapts, however, and now that we can "smell the barn" we can barely contain ourselves. On the stairways leading from one floor to the next at the Body Worlds exhibit are quotes from famous thinkers about the pursuit and attainment of happiness. To sum up this last day of exploration on this exceptional year, I'll quote an ordinary girl living in extraordinary circumstances on her views of what it means to be happy. They also represent what I'm looking forward to most about getting home and getting on with life.

"The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and with God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy amidst the simple beauty of nature."

Anne Frank