Unlike most other cities, Amsterdam has made no concession to the automobile. Not that cars are not present. In fact, they are abundant. But they fit into this water-logged burg about as well as I fit into the trousers I owned in college. Instead, the king of the Amsterdam's cobblestone streets is the bicycle. Everyone appears to ride one. Young and old, rich and poor, men and women, blue jeans or business attire, all are pedalers in this hill-deficient city. ...

This will be brief, lest my jet-lagged noggin come crashing down upon the keyboard. The journey from Boston to Holland was on all accounts uneventful, in spite of British Airways' taking lumps from labor. Kudos to both the management and the front line workers. The service of BA puts others to shame. After checking into the Owl Hotel, I went on a long walk around the city to get my bearings. I'll provide some of my impressions once my consciousness fog has lift...