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About Amsterdam

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

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Of je nu op zoek bent naar een romantische boottocht door de prachtige waterwegen, een ontspannen wandeling door de groene polders, of een spannend avontuur op de fiets langs .

So, I call up my buddy Jan. He’s the handyman, but he’s also a bit of a jokester. He shows up with a toolbox that looks like it’s been through a war. “What’s up, champ?” he says, grinning. I’m like, “Dude, my oven’s toast!” He laughs, but I’m not in the mood for jokes.

Figure 3 Palaeogeographic map of the Roman Netherlands showing sites on...