Amsterdam

It's about a quarter of ten in the evening, and I'm sitting in my hotel room, listening to the rain fall from the Dutch sky. It's one of those surreal moments at the end of a trip where I wonder if I've done everything I needed and wanted to do, and also wonder when I'll be back. As I listen to the thunder roll, and hear the occasional tram bell, I can't help but think that this trip has been much better than I anticipated.

The rain's coming down harder now.

Amsterdam offers quite a juxtaposition. The old-world buildings and charm, stand right beside new-world modernity and vices. A small city by most measures, yet rich in history and experiences. I expected to find a place where I'd feel uncomfortable, yet by exercising caution, I was able to stay away from the ill, and enjoy the better parts of the city. I've already thought a few times about what I want to do the next time I come, and what I want to see more.

My visit to Holland has been largely successful, and I'm grateful for the opportunity I've had to come. So tomorrow, as I climb aboard a plane and soar across deep blue Atlantic, there won't be any regrets, just an excitement to go home to wife and children, and a certain understanding that I haven't seen the last of this part of Europe.

The storm is letting up.