It was early November. The leaves had turned yellow and were, with their last strength, still hanging onto their branches. The day was another record-breaking one, with temperatures soaring to a wonderful 15 degrees centigrade. The sun had just crawled above the buildings along the Prinsengracht and played a final trick with me.
I cherished the moment, smartphone tucked away, sipping a cortado, and sitting back. Tourists from all the countries I ever visited were passing by. They were taking pictures of the bronze statues of the famous Jordaan singers and a guide sang Tulips in Amsterdam. The bridge was crowded with people taking selfies, trying to get the Westerkerk on the background. Beautifully-dressed Asian girls had their photos taken by each other. Photos that had to be instagrammable. Some posed with a duck-face, others with a shy smile.
