It's Amsterdam Again — J. Harry Caufield

The vacation photos continue! There are no more after this, at least as far as this trip goes.

Before returning to Amsterdam, we visited an event called Parkleuchten with our Germany friends. Essentially, the entire little town of Metelen gets turned into a mystical land of colored lights. My photos do not do it justice, primarily due to the torrential rain and flooding which began soon after we got to town.

It's blurry, but I'm sure you get the idea.

Follow the flames to escape this backyard without falling into the pool.

Let us hide in the Heimatverein.

They're proud of their vintage machinery.

Colored spotlights and water don't mix well. We spent some time hiding from the storm before escaping back to the car. I have to assume that Metelen is now a small lake.

The next morning, we hopped on an early train back to the Netherlands.

The train tracks in Ochtrup. Not shown: trains.

Ah, there they are. Hello, trains.

Finally, the hotel. I think three stars is code for "our hallways are fashionably dark but our front desk service is sufficiently friendly".

It was time to return to Canal Town. It was much more humid this time.

This car is a bit like Amsterdam itself: exposed to more moisture than it probably should be but it remains a charming and colorful patchwork. (That sentence is best read in the voice of Rick Steves.)

It's the Royal Palace of Amsterdam. The royal folks don't live there but they visit on occasion.

The building is opulent by design. It's what you get to build when you're everyone's favorite merchant society.

This flooring stays shiny because it only gets used for state functions.

Many of the rooms are still in use by state visitors but were traditionally offices and lodging for government VIPs. This is the Insurance Chamber. It's where the guy in charge of insurance lived.

The Palace hallways are rather dark, both in lighting and in atmosphere. Many of its doorways are decorated with scenes of death and execution.

In this case, it's horrified children instead of skulls.

Having had our fill of 17th century royal excess, we proceeded to the Kattenkabinet. It's a museum of cat art. That is, it doesn't appear to contain any art by cats but it features paintings, sculptures, and advertisements featuring cats. The collection is all nestled into a set of apartments in a very catlike way: unassuming, offering limited context, but undeniably unique.

I don't recall the cat in this film ever wearing a helmet. Perhaps the Italian version is different.

That's a real cat rather than a sculpture, but who am I to say what isn't art?

Elsewhere in the city (specifically, the Rembrandtplein), Rembrandt stands alone. The lady remembers seeing a full collection of additional statues around him before but they appear to have been moved.