Here's Cathay Pacific's 'The Wing' lounge vista.
A runway in Hong Kong and those steamy mountains.
People, thank you for missing me while I am abroad.
Amsterdam, Brugges and Paris.
Here's Amsterdam's Keizersgracht.
En route to The Dylan Hotel.
The first thing I noticed about the people in the Nederlands is that they speak three or four languages.
They offer you a greeting in three or four; you then choose which one to reply with
and you go with that one.
I usually felt like a complete nonsense having 'only English'.
I really enjoyed seeing how effective the bike-riding culture is in the city and how the roads' infrastructure and prevailing attitudes are geared towards cyclists and not cars.
No-one is building car-parks, nor wasting money on paying for parking.
No-one is rabbiting on about 'cyclists not paying for car registrations...therefore not
being entitled to use the roads... Or, bikes 'not being cars'.
Everywhere you look there's those beautiful moth orchids.
And tulips in many varieties.
Here's the view across from the queue to see Anne Frank's house and the family factory.
After everything it is so sad to think Anne died from typhus four weeks before the
Russians liberated Amsterdam from the Germans.
And, Otto was freed and she never knew.
Here's the Rijks Museum.
Rembrandt's 'The Night Watch' lives here.
A Dutch Golden Age Masterpiece.
Here's the Rijk's lovely gates.
The architecture and those Dutch Masters paintings give quite an atmosphere.
This is The Dylan hotel's courtyard from Room 20.
I trotted out most days looking a bit old Dutch Masters myself. Once again, half the clothes I packed won't be worn and two or three items will be worn over and over again.
I will be popping in to see Monsieur Legeron in Paris again, too. To run my eye over his corsage making salon. This red fleur in his from last time. I thought I packed it safely but it go quite crushed. But have no fear; I have a plan.
I ate a whole tin of stroopwafels from the Dylan's room service fridge, so know I have a tin to protect it when travelling.
Vermeer's Flora on the canal with red fleur.
This beats most Westfield's, I know. Below is a shopping centre.
In 2012 it exhibited Rembrandt's paintings.
We got down to de Oude Kirk Red Light District.
I enjoyed how there is a string of quaint old bordellos lining the base of one of the oldest churches in Amsterdam and there's Art. Just in case you forget where you were.
Jesus looks after the oldest profession in the world.
Those canals are every bit as lovely as you imagined.
And, there's always a swan.
Three crosses are on the Amsterdam flag.
Supposedly Saint Andrew was crucified on a cross that looked like a cross.
Here's the oldest windmill in Amsterdam.
It's now a very popular café.
This is from the canal on a boat loaded up with food from Vinkeles restaurant at
The Dylan. We didn't do anything by halves, people.
I am emotionally preparing myself for Paris.
Here's Antwerp train station. In case you haven't had enough.
We are getting on board Thalys going via Brussels to Paris.
Au revoir, tot ziens, vaarwel and goodbye.