First thing to do when you arrive anywhere is get your bearings. So it was out with the Rough Guide then a trip to the local ticket office at Stadschouwburg. Unfortunately all the free English guides were gone so I bought a "Day to Day" and began to wander. Right next door though was a fantastic little film bookstore. If the monster weren't so heavy I'm telling you there were one or two nice big volumes there I'd have bought.

Amsterdam is very much the tourist town and like the Mediterranean, everything is printed in several languages, usually Dutch, German, French and English. The city itself is picturesque enough, with the canals and all those pedestrian walkways. Having said that between the trams and the bicycles coming at you from all directions (and the occasional car on the pavement), it's a wonder many are not killed. They're worse than the Italian moped kids in Rome. And then there are all those tall, slim blonde women with long flowing hair bicycling everywhere. It's very disconcerting.

It had been suggested that a good way to get one's bearings in Amsterdam is to get on the canal, or rather a barge and travel around the canals. This is what I did though truthfully once you've seen one step gable, you've seen them all. The tour basically comprised of a number of descriptions in multiple languages along the following lines, "On your left, houses 712 to 718 were owned by rich merchants in the Seventeenth Century" or "On your right, houses 840 to 846 were owned by rich merchants in the Seventeenth Century". I think quite a lot of houses were owned by rich merchants in the Seventeenth Century. Curiously the English translation came last and usually ended up being in sync with our passing the building in question.

Dinner time. I was attracted to an Argentinian steak house and went in hoping for the best. I have a strange suspicion though that they thought that I was English and that they still held a grudge over the Falklands. I wasn't exactly served quickly. Although the onion soup was nice, the steak was a little on the small side (though nice and rare). I really only enjoyed the ice cream and coffee. An hour and a half (or more) later I escaped.

Now I am sorry to the offended, but when in Amsterdam there is one place that well, you really have to see. So I took an after dinner stroll to the funnily lit district to do a little window shopping. Real window shopping; I did not sample any wares. HONEST. As it was, the place was crowded with grannies, students and (what embarrassed me a little) families; momma, poppa and the two kids type families. Quite a lot of those ooh-ing and ah-ing over the dildoes. Other conspicuous personages were the African guys who came up whispering each a different line(!); coke, charlie, exstacy. And as to the ladies, I have never been so popular! They all wanted me; isn't that strange? Though none of your tall, slim blonde cyclists here! It seemed to me they were either African or East European and I felt just a twinge of sadness about the whole thing. It was so like some carnival sideshow with everyone pushed on to the outside of the pavement, keeping a bit of distance, but always with an eye on what was on show. Then every so often as you walked by there would be a click of a door closing and a curtain would swish closed. And then there were those other rooms where the curtain wasn't shut, but there was no red light, rooms with half eaten meals and ashtrays on the table, linoleum on the floor, flourescent light beaming from a hall. Presumably the common areas before going to work. I suppose there is any element of hypocrisy here on my part, but I did say "just a twinge of sadness". Sad or not, I confess to gawking with the rest of them.

One thing I seem to always mess up is getting a bottle of water for the room. I hate bathroom tap water and like to have a drink of a non-alcoholic variety handy. Unfortunately I get my bus, tram, whatever and then fail to find a shop that sells it. Same story this time. My hotel is in a well-to-do area very near the Van Gogh Museum and though there are plenty of closed shops with Gucci in the window (still window shopping), there are no newsagents with bottles of water. Just have to settle for a cup of bathroom water tea.

I have a tonne of laundry the hotel said they would do, but they haven't taken it yet. Things are going to get smelly!