Chocolates and church

I awoke today determined to visit that chocolatier I keep seeing - Puccini Bombini. John and I hopped on the bikes and sped off to the University area where it resided hoping to find it open. Hallelujah, it was open! We strode in and were amazed at the extensive selection of artisan bon-bons in exotic varieties; anise, pepper, tea (black?), canella, bourbon, marzipan, hazelnut, mocha, dulce de leche... I can't go on without weeping. The salesperson helped me decide on enough to fill a small box with these delectable confections, I paid and then left quickly before I lost all control. Let me put it this way, if I had chosen one of each flavor, my carry-on wouldn't have fit the acceptable size/weight restrictions for boarding my flight.

After having a bite to eat near Rembrandtplein and enduring bad renditions of Dire Straits and Beatles songs from the street musician, we made a path to the Oude kerk which lies within the borders of the red light district. I had wanted to see the World Press Photo exhibition being held there, and knew this was my last chance to see it. I noted that only a few nights ago Mathius had taken us through here on our way to a bar, only there were legal prostitutes in rooms opposite the church trying to make a wage. During the day, however, you would never have known this activity took place here. Inside, the journalistic photography on display was overshadowed by the fact that I was standing in a church built in the 14th century. I spent about twenty minutes looking at the photography and another hour gaping at the details of the church. This was definitely the coolest location I've ever been for an exhibition of any kind.

We returned our bikes to the rental place following the exhibit and then moved on to the shopping area of Kalverstraat to see if we could unload the rest of our euros. I realized very quickly that most of what they had there I could get in the States. So, rather than waste money on junk, we went to dinner and blew it on good food and booze - money well spent, I'd say. Two young boys (11-14) showed up and blessed us with a performance on trumpet and accordian. They were actually quite good, so I filled their money cup, thankful to unload some more euro coins. With full bellies and a cool Jenever buzz, we strolled home in the sunset.

Matt called on us to come out for a couple of beers. How could we not enjoy a couple rounds on the town with our host? Along the way, we helped him determine which bridges would give him and his mates trouble as they moved their floating rig through the canals on Koninginnedag. We were bummed to be missing the extravaganza, but knew that traveling around that day would be nearly impossible as millions of people flowed in and out of Amsterdam. His original plan was to take us to a beer garden inside Vondelpark, but upon arrival we found it under construction. The nearby area of Leidsplein would suffice. It was trouristy, but we didn't give it a second thought as conversation ensued. We drank and talked into the late night, forgetting the eminence of our departure.