December 2010

[Sweder]

We come form the land of the ice and snow
With the midnight sun where the hot springs blow

Not much sign of hot springs in these parts. Bitter winds lash the Dam's canals, driving soft snow into ruddy faces swathed in thickly coiled scarves. Improbably long-limbed locals pedal resolutely through the icy streets, headphones for earmuffs, hands in pockets, perfectly balanced on their squeaky, creaky sit-up-and-begs.

I'm currently stranded in Amsterdam with little prospect of an exit before Sunday. I shall console myself in the fleshpots and opium dens of this nefarious citadel ... or at least slip out for a snow-bound jog followed by a cheese toasty and a Bockbier.

Where ever you may be I hope you and your loved ones are safe and warm.