I got another chance to travel with my best friend F, this time to Amsterdam. She had a bunch of things on her mind and wanted to have a relaxing week and I am of course all about slowly discovering new places. It was also the first time we traveled to a destination we both know relatively little about. She let me organize our sojourn, I looked online and the various discussions confirmed my suspicion: the best way to experience Amsterdam is by walking through it. The first thing we noticed where that Amsterdam has giant windows. It would be a recurring theme to spot the best interiors, the chillest people stretched on their window still, the cutest dog, starting with the one just across the street from our ABNB, white and fluffy, eager to play. My friennd is crazy for dogs and so she would wave at him and call him cute names first thing in the morning before even getting properly dressed. Our first day started somewhere in the early afternoon under a cozy blanket of clouds while the rest of our friends and family were baking at 37 degrees in a new residential development project in *West*. The houses are modern but elegant, the area is divided by canals and roads on which we ever really saw bikes, to one end you have the IJ waterfront, to the other a school with a huge playground and the convenient bus connection to *Centraal*. Smaller streets are real neighborhoods, everybody is leaving their stuff outside, especially children's toys and bikes, public space is shared and well maintained, almost every lot has flowers, benches or garden dwarfs or a pet. On foot we set out to *Haarlemmerdijk* to find our way down to *Zuid*, because I had read it was a posh area and figured it would be a good place to start. Our first impression of Amsterdam was neat and eerily quiet. No loud groups neither of tourists nor locals, nobody in the pubs, nary a soul in the streets. Was it because of the NATO summit? Is there some new pandemic going on? In *Haarlemmerdijk* we found them, "there they are!" we exclaimed as if we had just found a familiar brand at the supermarket, but it wasn't unpleasant. A good mix of tourists and locals going about their lives. The street is charming: old houses, some straight, some slanted to the side, pictures of boats or people on them, chocolate shops, coffee shops, tea shops, an old cinema. At *Haarlemmerplein* a girl talks us up about "Medecins sans frontiers", an organisation F knows well because one of her friends works for them. We politely decline any contribution but I let the girl know that her work is appreciated. Did you ever notice that you do certain things only with certain people? It's not mimetic or to show off, but a sort of priming. Depending on who you are with, you'll be more or less inclined to hear different aspects of your mind and act on it. With F, I constantly want to hug the world. Here in Amsterdam, as we will shortly discover, this is particularly easy, as there are beautiful people everywhere. Walking, sitting, riding on those wonderful bikes that make people move their legs in a relaxed rhythm like the arms of windmill and sway their upright upper bodies like the blades of grass underneath. Of course this game quickly became just as much one of seeing as of being seen. From *Haarlemmerplein* we took the tram southwards to our first destination, *Vondelpark*. On the way both of independently spotted a very stylish couple at a coffee shop's terrace, he especially was maybe 50, tall and blond (d'uh) dressed in a grey pinstripe suit. He must have noticed because he got up, enthusiastically waving a greeting in our direction with his espresso cup. Vondelpark is an oasis of relaxation smack in the middle of the city not unlike *Parco Sempione* or *Parc de la Tete d'Or* with some minor differences. Many more bikes, the smell of weed permeating the air and an airplane flying closely overhead about every two minutes. We ate in some bistro in the parc, nothing but smiles and politness and F wanted to run off into the sunset with the waitress and at least one other guest. They say Paris is the city of romance but in my opinion you first need to feel safe and good before initiating courtship. You have to imagine that while we were occupied in this way, the actual city didn't go unnoticed. The elegant architecture, the appeal of waterways, the tidy public transports, the impressive *Rijksmuseum*, the abundance of flowers and upbeat public messages. A whole in the ground saying "feed me" to encourage people to throw their cigarette butts in it rather than at random. It's working. Some benches inviting strangers to sit on them, one of which I'll remember in particular because the owner pasted "thank you letters to the bench family" by grateful tourists sharing some of their story on the kitchen window right behind it on *Bloemgracht*. The bus driver's enthusiastic "hi there!" looking you straight in the eye. Later we'll meet a girl playing the handpan in *Noord* warning us: "Don't come in winter though. In summer everyone is happy and excited. But in winter long faces everywhere." That might be true, but we have summer at other places too and people don't get to these levels of lightheartedness. I want to mention two other highlights. By now the conversation with F has reached it's habitual levels of excitement between jokes and serious confidentiality. We had just spent the late afternoon lying on Museumsplein talking about erotic topics with our respective partners. Having a best friend of the other gender is sometimes confusing, sometimes frustrating but always extremely enriching. You just have completely different perspective on things and being able to openly talk about those feels like a cheatcode on the understanding of life. Happy to have regained the ability to talk freely, which always takes a while after not seeing eachother for months, we had the idea of buying non-alcoholic beer and relax on a walkway at water level on *Singelgracht*, close to the monument for *Peter de Vries*. "If you had a boat, what would you call it?", "I don't know, some lady's name". "Thank you for asking me back". I was busy feeding potato chips to the ducks. They were cute and their life between the boats seemed stressful. "I'm sorry, what would you call it?" - "Panta Rhei". I can only express my appreciation by nodding. Sometimes F is just spot on, chapeau. Two giant military aircraft fly over our heads, probably something to do with the NATO summit. Maybe the world is ending, maybe it's getting turned even more upside down. At some point we'll be in the right position again, anyway. While living these moments, it really doesn't matter. In my own head magic is happening and in hers over there happiness is manifest. I'm not happy with the boatname I came up back then, the obvious answer is *Penthesileia*, queen of the amazons. The story by Kleist was recommended to me by my first italian tandem partner, right after the death of my mother. She too had difficulty with men, affectionate but always defensive, not understood and somewhat self destructive, idealistically loving but instinctively hating. Behind the *Rijksmuseum* you can follow *Spiegelgracht* and then make your way to *Centrum* with it's web of canals, old architecture and fake boobs if you're so inclined. As expected, the infamous tourist convoy assembles here, like the pine processionary caterpillar or an approximate conga line. F was feeling unwell for female reasons and so I had to find a place to sit down quickly. It so happens that one street further on, there is a coffee shop lodged in a white little hut, a rainbow flag hissed over the entrance and nothing but locals enjoying excellent coffee and apple pie. Every trip needs an HQ and this was it. I ordered pourover and my friend took a dive and the refreshing pool of the waitresses pale blue eyes, while we regrouped and starting thinking about the days to come.