Queen's Day

Another April, another Queen's Day -- my fifth since my arrival in Amsterdam. This is the first one that's not actually on April 30, though; I spent most of last week being confused (not difficult) as to why everything (i.e., shops and the gym) were going to close on the 29th but open on the 30th, but it turns out that there's some "religious" objections to people wearing orange and getting pissed in the street on a Sunday. Of course, this doesn't apply in Amsterdam -- the Sodom/Gomorrah of the Netherlands -- but the rest of the country is still rather conservative when it comes to religion.

Actually, I'm rather surprised that I'm awake this early. From our bedroom, you can hear the sound stage erected on one of the bridges across the Prinsengracht, and the singing continued late into the night. You can't really appreciate good music until you've heard a Dutch torch singer murdering "Volare" at 1 a.m.

But awake I am, determined to make the most of today. We've unearthed a lot of tat that we're going to put out on the street -- not to sell, mind you; that would involve hanging around and feeling ashamed of what we're putting out there. I know, the Dutch don't seem to get embarrassed but I'm English and I do. We'll go for a stroll around the Jordaan before it gets insanely busy, and then return home to eat the carrot and orange muffins with an orange cream cheese icing and candied orange peel that I'm about to make. I won't be wearing anything orange; it's not a color that goes well with the red/white English skin -- or Dutch skin, for that matter, but I'd like to think I have a modicum more taste than the cloggies when it comes to clothing.

Photos to come...