Freedom Plane

— छह हज़ार उनहत्तर — Boy, was it smart to take a buffer day off of work yesterday, even though we got home Tuesday night. It was fairly late once we actually got home, after all, around 10:00 at night, and I can't fathom getting up and going right to work yesterday morning. Besides, the jet lag on this trip is killing me like no other trip ever has; it was way easier to travel westward to Australia with nearly the same time difference just in a different direction, in both 2020 and 2023. This time, it was over halfway through the trip before I was sleeping a normal schedule through the night, and then we also did certain things that had me up way later than I normally am at home, which continued to disrupt my normal rhythms. But I felt pretty acclimated by the second week—only to have the process start all over again after getting home. It's pretty tough when the time of day is pretty much just inverted, and suddenly you need to be trying to sleep at the time when your body is used to it being in the middle of the day. I have more thoughts I can share about the trip, but I already need to tell you about yesterday, when Shobhit and I walked down to the Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI) to see the traveling exhibit Freedom Plane National Tour:A Documents that Forged a Nation. This exhibit is on display at MOHAI between July 30 and August 16, but I had plans—or thought I had plans—both days this coming weekend, which left only Wednesday, Thursday or Friday this week as options; plus I haven't gone to a movie since July 18 and am going through withdrawals. As of now I have movies booked after work both today and tomorrow. The museum is only open until 5 p.m. actually, which is what left Wednesday this week really the only option. I originally was going to go with Alexia, who was very interested, but when I followed up with her it turned out she had a conflicting trip to North Carolina planned; she's still there right now and gets back the 22nd, only a week after which she has to go to Boise to take care of a bunch of stuff regarding the house she owns and rents out there. It was not very surprising that Shobhit was interested in this, though; political stuff always interests him and original founding documents would be a part of that. The exhibit is actually free but you have to book timed entry tickets, which I did for two several weeks ago. I booked it for 2 p.m., figuring that the safest bet in light of any possible jet lag—which, again, we are both experiencing significantly. I was crashing by mid-afternoon yesterday, on our way home from MOHAI; we both keep waking up numerous times through the night. Yesterday I finally got out of bed at 5 a.m. even though I didn't have to go to work. This morning I got out of bed at about 4:50 but I had been awake at least half an hour. Shobhit keeps waking up and moving and shaking the bed and that in turn wakes me up and keeps me awake too. But, the 2 p.m. time slot worked perfectly. We actually got a lot done beforehand; I did all the laundry that was dirty from our entire 18-day trip (18 counting travel days), and Shobhit went to his first Weight Watchers meeting in a few weeks. I worked on my budget and a few other things, but still have a lot left I want to do: I'm done with all the travelogues, thankfully, but that means I need to work on tagging the nearly 2,000 photos from the trip that I never tagged as we went along because I prioritized getting photos uploaded so I could copy and paste them into the travelogues. I also have a lot of detailed tracking from all 18 of those days, plus yesterday now, to enter into my draft of the Summer Social Review. All this is not even to mention the TV shows we are now very behind on. Three episodes of House of the Dragon have aired in our absence, and I really wanted to watch at least one last night, but Shobhit said he wasn't in the right mental state for it and he wants me to wait for him. I have movies tonight and tomorrow but maybe we can squeeze an episode in here or there. I was in bed and zonking out by 9 p.m. last night, but as per usual, I woke up at both something like 12:30 and again maybe around 3:30. I long for a night when I can sleep soundly through the night again. I did go to the store and buy a gallon of milk. Plus I re-deposited the $100 in cash I had withdrawn in case of any emergency, at Shobhit's suggestion, none of which was ever needed. I used the milk to make one of the hot chocolate kits—with a shot of rum, this particular one—we bought at a shop called Chocolatte at the wonderful Markthal in Rotterdam. Shobhit wasn't as impressed with it but I got my hot chocolate fix out of it. I think it does make a difference having it made with foam from an espresso machine at the shop versus boiling milk on the stove, though. We bought three of these; maybe for the next one I'll nuke the milk instead. — छह हज़ार उनहत्तर — — छह हज़ार उनहत्तर — Anyway, I should get back to MOHAI. The day beforehand was fairly productive for both of us; Shobhit even did literal work for his job for an hour, and again later in the afternoon, I think. We left home at maybe 10 after 1:00 and got to MOHAI with seven minutes to spare before our 2pm entry—they would not let people in early. They were pretty strict about this. The exhibit features only seven original documents (listed at the bottom of this page), though "original" is kind of a gray-area definition with the Declaration of Independence, as that was actually one of 50 known engravings from 1823. Others were very much originals, though, and maybe the most fascinating thing about them was all the original signatures by founding fathers—some of which were different from the same person depending on the year and which document it was on, Shobhit noticed. The staff on hand asked us not to form lines to each display and to look at it from the side if need be. Naturally I took several pictures, both in this exhibit and in the supplemental one you walked into after finishing there—I got a 30-shot photo album out of it. Plus, I only noticed this morning that I never made a collection of albums specific to my visits to MOHAI over the years, and have now made one, covering four visits to the museum since 2012. Two of them were actually part of Birth Weeks: 2012 with Auntie Rose (including this great story she wrote about actually attending the World's Fair in 1962), and 2017 with Dad and Sherri, a year we pivoted from the usual bike ride with Dad because of bad weather. I went once with Shauna just because, once in February 2013; and now this visit with Shobhit. There's some kind of gratingly patriotic stuff in there, specifically in the supplemental exhibit where they had people write down who they pledge allegience to (lots of "God" and "Jesus"), but some other objectively great stuff as well. I'm really glad I got to go. It kind of felt like an extension of our trip in a way, another museum after two and a half weeks of museums, among countless other things as well. — छह हज़ार उनहत्तर — On the way home through South Lake Union, Shobhit decided to drop in the new Mayuri, the South Asian grocery store, that opened down there not long ago. They have a cafe in there and you can order a ton of stuff; Shobhit decided to order a thali for us to share. I had hoped to simply skip lunch and then eat dinner later, but this was a very heavy and filling late lunch around 3:30 in the afternoon. I never did eat again after that, except for one of the chocolate confections from Brussels. The thali was really good, though, especially with the garlic naan Shobhit wound up also ordering to add to the small bit of bread the thali had come with. Walking away from there, Shobhit asked if I wanted to take the #8 bus home, and without hesitation I said yes—I was just too tired all of a sudden. We barely missed a bus and so we killed the next 15 minutes walking around the Whole Foods there at Westlake & Denny, then we caught the next #8 bus back home. Shobhit caught up on some more work and I did some light unpacking (there's still a bit more to do of that) and also ironed a couple pairs of shorts. I have so much I still want to do, but I found myself calculating categorical totals from the trip: public transit ($265.85, not counting the EuroStar), grocerires ($171.48), eating out ($657.92—and that was with saving due to bringing about a week's worth of meal packets, but $231 of this was for Choux restaurant alone), tourist attractions ($687.63), Belgian chocolates ($171.28), and that's not even all the categories I came up with. Roughly $219 could be attributed to what I'll call "sex tourism" alone, but we won't get into that—I'll only clarify that it refers to places and events we attended, mostly separately, but not prostitution. The Red Light District is deeply, deeply heteronormative. I never thought to look on any rent boy apps or anything like that, though. Maybe I should have! — छह हज़ार उनहत्तर — [posted 12:37pm]

The Netherlands 2026, Part Four: Return to Amsterdam

Friday, July 31 Tony's Chocolonely Super Store Oh look, a PCC connection! It turns out that, although their chocolate bars are manufactured in Belgium (in Antwerp), the company is headquartered in Amsterdam—they have a Tony's Chocolonely Super Store just a couple blocks straight in front of Amsterdam Centraal Station. This has long been one of my favorite brands of chocolate, if not my very favorite, that we sell at PCC—I even once had a broker send me some as a gift. That doesn't mean we bought any in Amsterdam, though. Why bother? We constantly have the little bite size chocolates at the front desk anyway (and whether I eat more of them than anyone else will ever be a mystery for the ages). But naturally I wanted to see their "Super Store," and we went in to check it out—it's rather smaller in size than "Super Store" might suggest, though admittedly they do cram a hell of a lot in there—the evening after we returned from our day trip to The Hague. My favorite thing was this Pride-themed display they had, with rainbow packaging. (I also saw some cool Amsterdam-specific bar wrappers at the airport on our way home, which curiously I did not see at the Super Store, but there may very well have been some there and I just didn't see them.) I did not realize until researching the brand for this very caption how massive Tony's Chocolonely's chocolate market share is in the Netherlands—19%, making it the leading individual chocolate brand in the country.
Sunday, August 2 Anne Frank House Thursday and Friday, July 30 and 31, were our day trips to Rotterdam and the Hague, respectively; Saturday August 1 was the World Pride Canal Parade; and Monday, August 3 was when we left for our three-day detour to Brussels—which left Sunday, August 2 as the one, non-World Pride day we had in Amsterdam during that stretch. The major event we did that day was visit the Anne Frank House, which is so difficult to get tickets to, we waited to schedule almost anything until we had this booked. You can only even attempt to book tickets at most six weeks in advance, and if you wait much longer than that, all spots will be sold out. But we managed to get tickets for August 2. If you're like me and you like to take tons of pictures (I have nearly 2,000 shots from this entire, 18-day trip), the most distinctive thing about experiencing the Anne Frank House is the strict prohibition of taking photos of anything inside. I still have a photo album for this visit, of course (just click the image above), but it consists mostly of exterior shots, a couple of shots at or near the Museum Cafe (including an incongruously upbeat, given the somber nature of the museum, menu of Pride Specials), and some screenshots I took from the museum website, because I was fascinated by the Nazis' sinister "Jewish dot maps." I also downloaded my own copy of the only film footage in existence, very brief, of Anne Frank, something I had no idea existed. Visiting the Anne Frank House is pretty depressing, as you might imagine, but also essential. And I won't say it felt like "homework;" the museum is very well put together and engaging, and it's pretty amazing to be walking through the very rooms Anne Frank and her family hid in for two years. The photo above is the exterior of the original building, the facade facing a canal. There's a tiny plaque on the wall that lots of people were taking selfies with. Lest I feel a little too much like Justin Beiber, I decided not to do that.
We did take a selfie on a nearby canal bridge, though! Anne Frank House is in the middle-distance on the left, behind some trees from this angle, and across from that church. The church, incidentally, is The Westerkerk, built between 1620 and 1631 and has an 87-meter (286 ft) church tower, the tallest church tower in Amsterdam, the equivalent of a 25-story building. I had actually looked this up early on as a possible observatory to go up, similar to the church tower we went up at St. James Church in the Hague, but I deprioritized it for all the countless other things we had to do in Amsterdam (not least of which was A'dam Tower), and it turns out the Westerkerk tower is currently closed for restoration work anyway. In any case, I had no idea until looking it up just now that it's right next door to the Anne Frank House.
Thursday, August 6 Hotel Oscar So this brings us to our second leg in Amsterdam for this overall trip: we spent 8 nights at the Wittenberg by Cove Hotel in Amsterdam; then 3 nights at the Aparthotel Adagio Brussels Grand Place in Belgium; and then back here, Hotel Oscar, for 5 nights again in Amsterdam before heading back home—so, 16 hotel nights in all; a 17-day trip when considering we left Seattle on July 25 but did not land in Amsterdam until July 26; and 18 days overall when counting all travel days. This is, by one day (compared to 17 days for the Australia trip in 2023), the longest trip I have ever taken. Anyway, the above photo was taken during our canal tour on only our second full day in Amsterdam on the first leg here; Hotel Oscar is three buildings from the left, the narrowest one, the dark blue paint around nine windows. This closer shot was taken only moments later—our room was the far-left window on the second floor (or floor 1 the way Europeans counterintuitively count). To my great surprise, these windows opened wide open, and from just across a narrow street and bike lane our room overlooked the Amstel River, only a block or so from where the river comes to an end and then feeds into the center of the Canal Belt, the canals of which otherwise flow into the much larger IJ River (which is technically not a river, but a former bay now a body of water connected to the North Sea Canal, which thus connects to the North Sea around 14 miles—or 22 km—to the northwest). Everything about Hotel Oscar was much, much smaller than the Wittenberg had been; the Wittenberg was like a studio apartment for long-term stay with a full kitchen. Hotel Oscar was our only hotel this trip with no kitchen at all, only a tiny refrigerator and a water kettle for tea or instant coffee (though we did partake many times in the espresso and hot chocolate machine downstairs in the lobby). The location, however, could hardly be beat—basically everything we did these last 5 days were within easy walking distance of here.
We were headed toward dinner and standing right in front of Amsterdam Centraal when I took this shot, looking toward the clock tower to the southeast about 0.8 miles (1.3 km) away, which stands at the aforementioned end of the Amstel River and is about a block from Hotel Oscar. I was just really taken with this shot when I looked at it later.
Choux Choux is a high-end but relaxed Amsterdam restaurant—the one we were walking to in the previous photo—that serves a five-course, "vegetable-forward" (we still needed to make sure they knew we were vegetarians) meals. It was one of many recommendations given to Shobhit by another person in his Weight Watchers group who is familiar with Amsterdam, and we were both very interested in making it one of the few places where we very much splurged—with only one optional course added that we only split, and opting against wine pairings with each course that would have been another €9.50 every time, in the end the bill still worked out to €100 each ($115.60 USD). I don't think we have spent this much on a dinner since we ate at Canlis in Seattle 20 years ago, and I was less taken with Canlis as they require dinner jackets. I went to Choux in shorts and a T-shirt, and I wasn't the only one. Anyway, the place is insanely popular, and having only gotten the recommendation about two weeks ahead of time, all time slots were booked, but we could get put on a waiting list. This apparently works for people frequently, but you have to respond to the email that a table has become available quickly, or else someone else will snatch it. We must have gotten three different such emails before we were quick enough to snag a table that became available at 8:30, the latest available time slot, on August 6. I thought it was well worth it. Shobhit was more critical of some of the courses than I was, mostly because a couple of times they included smoky flavor which he does not care for; I just let the flavors wash over me and very much enjoyed them—well, until we got to the last course, the dessert, picture above, beautiful as it was in presentation (notwithstanding how much it reminded me of the alien pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers, which I decided not to mention to our server). I found too much savory flavor in this dessert competing with the sweetness, so it was my least favorite of the courses. I did ask how Choux is pronounced, and apparently it's pronounced like "Shoo." And it's the French word for cabbage. So really, we had dinner at Cabbage Restaurant.
Friday, August 7 Stroopwafel World Why did we not learn from our experience with the Belgian waffles in Brussels? I don't know! When we finally stopped to get a fresh made stroopwafel in Amsterdam, we got a couple of them with toppings without thinking—shobhit got the above one with Biscoff cookie crumbles on it; I got one with salted caramel. To be sure, they were still absolutely delicious, especially right off the waffle iron, making them the best stroopwafels I had ever had—the packaged stroopwafel candies available in the States are far inferior. But! By August 10, we went into another stroopwafel shop—by a different name, Hans Egstorf—and this time we ordered a plain stroopwafel, like the locals eat them. We ate it a while later at Dam Square after sharing a sandwich we had ordered to go from the also-excellent Zero Zero, and we both agreed that, just like the Belgian waffle, the plain stroopwafel is preferable.
Saturday, August 8 Here's something you don't see in the U.S.: public urinals are scattered throughout the city. I am insanely pee shy so there's no way in hell I would ever be able to use one of these, but the people here clearly use them quite casually and frequently. They are clearly designed only for men, though, and there was even a woman who fought against a fine for public urination several years ago, because she did not have the same readily available options as men. Apparently a judge said she could have just used one of the public urinals (which do have slightly varying designs, but still), which not only indicated that sexism is alive and well even in the progressive Netherlands, but the judge was rightly ridiculed widely for it.
De Laatste Kruimel The bakery and restaurant De Laatste Kruimel (French for The Last Crumb) was a recommendation from Cathryn at work, who for a while had family living in Amsterdam, so she had visited and was familiar. We liked this place so much, we patronized them no fewer than three times during our trip: once getting drinks and an amazing sandwich to go during our first full day in Amsterdam (my hot chocolate was delicious); once for a sit-down breakfast the morning of the World Pride March, during our second leg in Amsterdam; and the very next day Shobhit ordered pastries to go to have after dinner at the hotel, including their apple pie and a couple types of croissants. When we were there for breakfast, sitting on the tiny patio overlooking a very narrow canal, I also ordered a hot chocolate, and this time it came in a glass in which I had to mix the chocolate myself, and it was excellent. We also happened to meet one of the owners of the place, Evolina, and Shobhit asked to take a picture with her. A person at a neighboring table offered to take the picture, but we wanted to get a selfie with the canal behind us. Evolina advised Shobhit to move a couple of his things away from the edge of our tiny little table (there was only space for three such tables on that patio). She said a woman once had a Louis Vuitton bag fall off a table into the canal. She said a guy just a little ways down the canal fished it out for the woman, who was apparently not very openly appreciative, but Evolina was very kind and gave the woman the benefit of the doubt, saying maybe she was just too stressed to thank the man.
The Heineken Experience ... Gift Shop "The Heineken Experience" happened to be along our long walk to the start of the World Pride March, and, much like the Belgian Beer World Experience in Brussels, the cost would have been wasted on me. We were plenty early enough that Shobhit still could have done it on his own, but he decided not to bother, and we walked through their gift shop instead. I did like that they had these Pride-related "All stars unite" bottles of beer, though (in connection with their contingent in the Canal Parade). Shobhit almost bought one, but they had none that were chilled available.
Omval Skyline As noted already in previous emails, Amsterdam has three separate skylines of tall(er) buildings—the largest and densest cluster is in the Zuidas district, about 23 buildings of roughly 20 floors or more roughly three and a half miles or 5.6 km southwest of Centraal Station; there's a group of about 5 buildings in Overhoeks, across the IJ river from Centraal Station (this is where A'dam Tower is located), and then there are 5 buildings in Omval, a district also three and a half miles or 5.6 km from Centraal Station, just to the southeast. There's a couple more places still with small clusters of tall(ish) buildings, but I would say these are the largest three—and Omval, pictured above, contains both the tallest and second-tallest buildings in Amsterdam. The tallest, seen in the center of the above shot, is called—fittingly—Rembrandt Tower, and stands at 150 meters (492 ft) with 35 floors. It's been standing since 1995, but both Rotterdam and the Hague have had taller buildings all along; Rembrandt Tower is currently 13th-tallest in the Netherlands. At only 492 feet and 35 floors, Rembrandt Tower does not have an especially impressive height—Seattle alone has 22 buildings that are taller—but, with nothing nearby to compete with it, it stands out. You know that if there were a public observatory in that building I would be all over it, but alas, there is not. I didn't even realize we'd be walking this close by on our way to the World Pride March, so I was happy just to get a few photos from across the Amstel River.
Demetra Pizza The first of two pizza places we went to that night—the first, Demetra, was where we sat down to eat, and it was excellent. and quirky in a fun way, with neon-altered pieces of art on the walls. The second place was even better, La Zoccola del Pacioccone, where we ordered a pizza to go—we shared a 10" pizza from both places, and in both places the pizza was served without being sliced first. Demetra served them with cutting shears, which I presume La Zoccola del Pacioccone did as well, but not for to-go orders, of course. We took that home and cut it with a plastic knife, which required a bit more effort but was totally worth it. We went to both places because they were highly rated, but only La Zoccola del Pacioccone used a wood oven, which Shobhit insists makes the pizza better. But, well, I thought both pizzas were amazing.
Canals of Jordaan Shobhit really wanted to see a sunset reflected in the waters of the canals, as we have seen in so many photographs, postcards, and paintings, so we went looking for an area of canals we had not yet explored. I googled what are considered the prettier canals, and multiple options came up, but one area we had not yet been through was a district called Jordaan, on the north and west side of the canal belt. It was indeed very pretty, though the canals were not necessarily all that prettier than those of other areas; I did pay more attention to the flower boxes, though, which framed some of my photos quite nicely. We never did see the sunset reflections Shobhit wanted, however—the sun is at the wrong angle this time of year, and a guy in one of the art galleries we walked into said we'd have better luck with that in November.
Continuing our walk through Jordaan at dusk, I got this lovely shot of a canal bridge with arches lined with lights. We noticed a lot of boat tours happening at this time, clearly out for sunset canal cruises. It was indeed quite pleasant, and for a little bit we even just found a place to sit on the edge of the sidewalk by a canal, our legs dangling over the side. I'd have preferred a bench with a canal view, but I guess you can't have everything.
Sunday, August 9 Zandvoort Beach August 9 was not the first time Shobhit and I did some things separately while in the Netherlands, but it was the one day we spent most of the day apart. There was an event at a local gay bar that day that Shobhit wanted to go to but I was not really interested in, and it was the one day that week that had a high of 86°F (30°C) and was thus suitable beach weather. Most other days only got into the mid-seventies during that second leg in Amsterdam, after occasionally-unbearable temperatures well into the 90s (32-34°C a couple of days) during a heat wave through the first leg. Shobhit is always the one who wants to find a nude or clothing-optional beach, which was how I found this one further to the south of Zandvoort, a coastal resort suburb of Amsterdam right at the opening of the North Sea Canal. In the end Shobhit didn't go, but I did, and I did indeed do some nude sunbathing. Are you scandalized yet? Anyway, a guy we met at a restaurant in Amsterdam declared Zandvoort "not one of the prettiest beaches" (it seemed pretty enough to me) and said locals like to go to islands in the north, but Zandvoort is incredibly accessible by public transit—a train goes there straight from Amsterdam Centraal with only maybe three stops in between, only takes 34 minutes, and cost me €7.30 ($8.45 USD) each way. The photo above was actually taken from the train on the way there, the closest thing I saw to a forest in the Netherlands. To be fair, I didn't ever go far outside of any of the cities looking for forests, either.
Check it out, I actually rented a bike in the Netherlands! Until I went to Zandvoort on my own, I thought I might go this entire trip without riding a bike—something that may surprise a lot of people given my love of my bike at home. But the thing is, Shobhit and I did almost everything together, which kind of ruled out bike riding because he never learned how to ride a bike as a child, and has always had balance issues (he also has issues with skating). With this new plan for Zandvoort, though, there were now two good reasons for me to rent a bike: first, Shobhit was no longer a concern; and second, it quite practically cut down what otherwise would have been a 45-minute walk to the section of beach I was looking for, which is about 2 miles (3.4 km) to the south of the center of town, to a fraction of the time needed to get there. You may notice in the above that I am again wearing my bicycle earrings. I got complimented on these all over the Netherlands, not just in Amsterdam; one woman noted she had never seen earrings like them. I'm kind of surprised it would be easier to get earrings like these in the States than in the Netherlands, actually. Also, this is as good a time as any to note the thing Shobhit got nearly as many compliments on: his hemp necklace containing large wooden beads arranged in rainbow colors, which my friend Lynn's stepdaughter Miriam made for Shobhit right in front of us (and he paid her for it) at Lynn and Zephyr's wedding three years ago. Shobhit does not like to wear metal jewelry (he used to just carry around his wedding ring, and lost it years ago) so this works perfectly for him, and he wears it all the time.
   Anyway I reached the beach at about 12:50, and left the beach at 3:20, so I spent about two and a half hours sunbathing. I used a lot of sunscreen! I still got some slight sunburns here and there, but nowhere too sensitive. I walked into the water only a little; it was freezing. And the bike ride back to the rental place (the daily rental was €16.25, or $19.29 USD) was lovely, especially on a less-used bike bath than the crazy ones in Amsterdam. You can find warnings all over the place online that tourists trying to bike through Amsterdam can find themselves overwhelmed by all the locals who zip by and might even run into you if you get in their way, like bike versions of New York pedestrians. "I'm bikin' here!"
Red Light District Shobhit and I did one last walk through the Red Light District on Sunday evening after I had returned from Zandvoort. You might discover some gems if you're paying attention, such as this woman getting felt up among the sidewalk bricks.
Monday, August 10 The Dutch Pancake Masters A final bit of authentic Dutch cuisine: Shobhit was always curious about the "Dutch pancakes" being advertised all over the place, and finally we stopped at a place called The Dutch Pancake Masters and paid €9.50 ($11) for one. It was explained to us that Dutch pancakes are made with a specific type of dough, and are thicker than a crepe but thinner than a typical American pancake. It looked and felt much like a standard American pancake to me, if indeed a bit thinner, but just as we did with Belgian waffles and Dutch stroopwafels, we went with the local custom and ordered one to go with nothing added, to be eaten plain. It was given to us in a literal pizza box which made me think it must be bigger than I was expecting—and, indeed it was!
Tuesday, August 11 Afsluitdijk—from the air You have to look very closely from this angle, but you can see what might otherwise look like a bridge, stretching straight from the smaller peninsula to the right to land on the other side of the water; the line is diagonal from this angle. That is not a bridge, but a dike—more specifically, the Afsluitdijk. It was originally finished in 1932 and, at the time, it was the longest sea barrier and enclosure dam of its kind ever constructed. It remains the longest in the Netherlands, and the second-longest in the world, after the Saemangeum Seawall in South Korea. Afsluitdijk runs 20 miles (32 km) in length, and a width of 300 ft (90 m). (Saemangeum Seawall beat it in length by a mile.) If you look at Afsluitdijk on Google Maps, it's easy to assume that the body of water southeast of it is a seawater bay—which it actually used to be; now the Afsluitdijk separates the North Sea to its northwest from what is now IJsselmeer, the largest lake in the country—itself cut in two by Houtribdijk, which is 16 miles (26 km) long. I am always fascinated by major feats of engineering, not just tall buildings, and visiting specifically the Afsluitdijk was long on my list of things to do while in Amsterdam, but it was the one thing I was really interested in that we just never fit it. This would have been much easier with a car, and we only relied on public transit, with which it would have taken us nearly two hours just to get to the southwest end of the dike. I had to settle with the sight of it from our plane out of Amsterdam, but I was pretty excited to get this nice shot from the window. [posted 7:24am]