Another weekend has, unfortunately, turned into a Monday, which is a shame considering the sun is still shining over Amsterdam. As always, the weekend was over far too quickly. On Saturday it was the Gay Pride canal procession – one of Amsterdam’s more colourful annual events. We cycled to the banks of the Prinsengracht to watch various amusing sights float past before our eyes. Highlights for me were the majorettes in fluffy hats who marched up and down the boat twirling their pink batons, proudly displaying hairy bellies and handlebar moustaches. There were also the ‘Gaydiators’ – a boatful of seriously worked-out torsos, oiled up and gleaming in the sun, sporting extremely minimalist Roman outfits. There were also the guys and gals who had lovingly made false penises and sewn them onto the front of their tights. Every now and again a large cardboard fig leaf would be cast aside to show a collection of fabric genitalia. The attention to detail was splendid and the row of little girls who were sat along the canalside next to me felt compelled to cover their eyes as soon as the boat appeared.
Yesterday the temperatures soared to 32 degrees, transforming the metro trains into sticky little ovens and rendering it impossible to walk on the wooden deck in the garden barefooted without doing a funny little dance. I borrowed a pair of rollerblades from P’s sister (Ghislaine) as I’m desperate to have a go. A nagging pain in my back has stopped me (hopefully temporarily) from running and it seemed like a good alternative. Once I see the chiropractor on Wednesday I’m going to get myself down to Vondelpark for some serious skating, but in the meantime I had to make do with a scaled-down version: the living room. Peter dug out his skates and we had ourselves a little roller disco.
Coming back to work seemed like a dull alternative today.
roller skating in the living room
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