Amsterdam

We have to keep remembering that it’s summer, and the peak of the tourist season. Therefore, everything’s hot and crowded, the hot part being ironic on a cruise to Iceland.

We kicked off Amsterdam with a cruise of the canals, stuffed into the boat like sardines and, in our case, in the unshaded, stiflingly hot part of the boat. Enough complaining, though, as the trip and the commentary were excellent.

We sailed up the Prinsengracht Canal, heard about the millions of wooden piles that support the buildings of Amsterdam and admired the crooked buildings that result from holding a building up in soggy ground using wooden piles.

Then, landed, we made our way up to Dam Square and a most imposing Royal Palace, or at least a Royal Palace covered in most imposing scaffolding. It probably was due for some TLC, mind you, having been built in 1655. The Dutch monarch is well catered for in the palace department, having this and two others to choose from for his digs.

In order to give some purpose to our wanderings, we then headed to the Flower Market, or, in the season of our visit, the Bulb, Seed and Souvenir Market. Lining a whole block of the Singel Canal, It was crowded with tourists - and, no doubt, pickpockets - and a nice change from the usual canal-side scenery of parked cars and salvaged, muddy, rusty bicycles.

On our way back, we saw more of the free and easy side of Amsterdam, passing dope shops, “cookie” shops and sex shops in plenty. And this right in the respectable middle of town.

Before long, our sweaty bodies and aching feet were back on board the ship, ingesting fluids - mainly alcoholic - and getting ready for dinner.

Our last treat for the day was the passage through the lock, out of the Ij and back into the North Sea. It was incredible to see a hundred thousand tons of steel, plastic and expanding waistlines squeeze into a lock only a few metres wider than the ship without the slightest scrape.

The days are getting longer - sunrise is at ten to six tomorrow morning and sunset at quarter to nine at night.

Tomorrow we are at sea, most likely overindulging; the next footprint will be Bergen.Read more