Benelux

Amsterdam

On Saturday evening we started on the Damrak, where boats were moored below tall old buildings, and walked on to Centraal Station. Then we wandered along the canals. Bikes were parked all along the water, glass-roofed tour boats went by, and some bridges were hung with boxes of pink and white flowers.

At Museumplein, a line of painted rabbit statues led up to the Rijksmuseum. Meenu posed on the lawn with the Concertgebouw behind her, then sat on the edge of the long pond, below the Rijksmuseum and the I amsterdam letters.

On Monday evening, back from the villages, we walked out to the IJ behind Centraal Station. A river cruise ship was moored at the quay, and across the water a tower had a crane on its roof. The clouds turned orange as the sun went down. By the time we reached the Basilica of St Nicholas, it was lit up against a deep blue sky.

Zaandam and the Zaanse Schans

On Sunday we went north to Zaandam. In the middle of town, a hotel is built as a stack of green wooden house fronts, with a blue house near the top. A row of blue gabled houses stands beside it, and we crossed a green-railed bridge past more gables in green and white.

On the Zaan, we sat on a wooden jetty and looked across the river at a row of windmills on the far bank. Then we crossed the bridge to the Zaanse Schans. Green wooden houses stood in their gardens, weeping willows hung over a pond, a path ran between pollarded willows, and sheep grazed in a meadow.

That night we finished with a crêpe piled with strawberries, chocolate sauce and icing sugar.

Broek in Waterland and Marken

On Monday we went out into Waterland. At Broek in Waterland, small boats were tied up along a lake below a tall church spire, and a tiny house floated out on the water.

Then came Marken. Its houses are wooden, most of them painted dark green or black, with white window frames and red-tiled roofs. We walked its lanes past gardens full of hollyhocks and hydrangeas, along narrow canals, over little white drawbridges and past the brick church tower. By the harbour, a row of green houses had white railings and red curtains, and yachts filled the marina. Beyond it, the lake stretched away grey under the clouds.

Outside one shop, a wall of painted clogs hung above a life-size cow in yellow clogs, and Meenu posed with it.

Brussels

We arrived on 23 August and spent that evening on the Grand-Place. People sat on the cobbles in the middle of the square, among the ornate guild houses and the dark Gothic front of the King's House.

The next evening, the eve of Meenu's birthday, we had a cake in our room. It was shaped like a white grand piano, and its board read Happy Birthday Meenu. A banner of rainbow letters hung on the wall behind it. Soon after, the sky turned orange and violet behind the Town Hall spire, and we watched it from our window.

On the night of the 25th, her birthday, we watched fireworks, then stood under the Atomium as its spheres glowed against the dark. After midnight, Meenu danced down an empty underground passage.

Namur and Dinant

On the 26th we went south to Namur. We started at the cathedral, under its big green dome, then went up to the citadel. On the grass at the top sat a giant golden turtle with a man riding on its back. From the walls we looked down over the rooftops and the cathedral dome to the river, and Meenu sat on a bench at the edge.

Further up the Meuse, we reached Dinant in the late afternoon and went up to its citadel too. From there we looked straight down on the town's roofs and along the valley to a high road viaduct. Inside, wax figures in wigs and cloaks stood beside an old cannon.

Back down by the river, a giant saxophone stood on the bridge, and Meenu posed beside it. Across the water, the church's onion-domed tower rises right under the cliff, with the citadel on top and a row of tall, coloured houses along the quay. We stayed until the lights came on and the whole front was mirrored in the Meuse.

Leuven and Bruges

On the 27th, our last day, we went to Leuven first. Its Town Hall is a wall of Gothic stone, crowded with statues and spiky turrets, and flags hung from its windows. St Peter's Church stands across the square. Nearby we found Fonske, a bronze student who reads a book while he pours water over his head, and a stall piled with striped gourds.

By early evening we were in Bruges, and we saw it from a boat on the canals. Brick walls rose straight out of the water, stepped gables lined the banks, and a white mansion had a terrace at the water's edge. Swans gathered by a stone bridge under the trees. At the Rozenhoedkaai, the Belfry rose above the rooftops.

Esch-sur-Sûre and Vianden

The 4th was a bright spring day in the north of the country. In Esch-sur-Sûre, a ruined round tower and a square keep stand on the rocks above the houses and the river. Just upstream is the Upper Sûre lake, between wooded hills, and paddleboarders were out on the water below a high road viaduct. We also stopped in Diekirch.

In the evening we reached Vianden, where the castle stands on a wooded hill above the town. Its pale walls and pointed slate turrets caught the low sun, and white blossom was out on the slopes below. We took a photo of the two of us with the castle behind.

Cochem and Trier

In Meenu's words, 2018Roman gate constructed dating back to 170 AD.

On the 5th we crossed into Germany. At Cochem, river cruise ships went by below the vineyards, and the castle stood on its hill above the town and the Moselle. We sat on the river wall in the sun, then caught a double-decker train to Trier.

We reached the Porta Nigra in the low evening light. In the old town Meenu had an ice cream. We walked across the Hauptmarkt, past its market cross and fountain and the red and white gabled houses around the square. The cathedral glowed gold in the last of the sun. We also saw the house where Karl Marx was born, and at dusk we stood by the Roman bridge over the Moselle.

Luxembourg City

The Park Inn was our base for all three nights. On our last day we walked the old city. The Gëlle Fra, a golden figure on a tall obelisk, stood over a fair with a carousel. The Adolphe Bridge crossed the green Pétrusse valley on one great stone arch, and the cathedral's spires rose over the streets. Far below the walls lay the old houses of the Grund.

Then it was time for our flight to Edinburgh.