While I decide where to host my photos now that Flickr are demanding I cough up to be able to upload photos there, I figured I'd bung them here. And knowing me they won't end up anywhere else. I mean, it took me two months just to edit them. I think it was partly the notion that once the photos are done that's the holiday properly over and done with, the final nail in the coffin. But mostly laziness.
Where to go next?(As always, click to embiggen. Then you'll be able to fully appreciate all my hard work and see where I used the clone stamp tool).
Midge in an elevator
This remains my favourite photograph. I was just faffing about with the settings before boarding. This is my father's wife Wendy, pushing him in his wheelchair towards the plane.
We arrived on Koninginnedag (Queen's Day). There were a lot of people dressed in orange, the colour of the Dutch Royal Family.
Totally bagged meself a hat that'd been discarded on a bollard the following day, much to Wendy's chagrin!
There was some sort of rave going on in the bottom right-hand corner, under t'bridge. I arrive in Amsterdam, in my 20-somethings, on Queen's Day, just before the marijuana ban on tourists is due to be enforced, and there's a rave going on outside my hotel window. But I'm on a family holiday, so I merely spectate. And snap.
The music blasting out was of the 90s shitty Eurotrance quality favoured by Dutch youth, so took some comfort in keeping my distance from that.
DOGGIEEEEE! It looked right at me! As did many of the humanoids I took candid photos of. Oops.
Amsterdam's Science Centre, NEMO, built to resemble a sinking ship. As viewed from the window of the hallway leading to my hotel room.
And again, from the room window.
On the third day I suggested we go explore the Jordaan district.
I really guided us that way because I wanted to see that.
Humble. That's not quite the word for how it made me feel, but it'll do until I find the right one.
One of Amsterdam's traditional 'bruine kroeg' (Brown Cafes), deriving the name from the interiors which have been darkened from tobacco smoke. Not the weed. Or otherwise they'd be called Green Cafes. I'm literally figuring this out as I type this. I'm like some kind of muthafuckin' genius. I totally recommended whiling away a few hours in one by a canal, sipping away at 'jenever' - the efficacious schnapps-like gin. I had fruit cider. C'mon people, family holiday, pay attention.
The beautiful Vondelpark, home to the opulent national Film Museum. Where I plonked my weary ass and sat eating Bitterballen (I'm lucky I don't look like one now) while my dear Dad urged me to take pictures of the 'two geezers having it off'. (One was a lass with a short haircut). LOL.
I made us walk ages to find this bridge I'd read about in one of the guide books. The name translate as 'Skinny Bridge'.