Leaving Milan this morning, our journey began with a pleasant surprise. The hotel arranged a taxi that arrived within three minutes and whisked us to the airport in just 20 minutes. A sign on the taxi door had warned that the trip would take 20–30 minutes and cost €68, but our driver managed it in 15–20 minutes for only €22. A small victory to start the day. Another curious observation, the outer modern suburbs look like Melbourne near Albert Park.
Milan’s Linate airport impressed us with its modern, clean, and well-organised layout. Unlike Brisbane, check-in was handled by actual staff rather than machines, which felt refreshingly personal. Security was smooth and efficient, and the terminal funneled passengers through a maze of shops before reaching the food court.
Melissa and I opted for an English breakfast, though it turned out to be more “American” than English. The bacon was billed as crispy, but “chewy and dry” would be a kinder description. Not everything can be perfect, I suppose.
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| Milan from the air |
Boarding our KLM 10:55am flight went smoothly until the captain announced a delay—low cloud cover over Amsterdam had pushed our slot back by 40 minutes. In reality, we waited closer to 30 before takeoff. Once airborne, the views of the Italian and Swiss Alps were breathtaking, a highlight of the day.
The flight itself was uneventful until the descent into Amsterdam. Thick cloud cover hid the ground until we were almost upon it. Full credit to the pilot, who clearly relied on instruments to line up with the runway. The landing was surprisingly smooth given the conditions. We were 30 minutes late.
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| The Alps |
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| The Alps |
Schiphol Airport is enormous—“huge” is the only word that fits. A train station beneath the terminal made getting into the city simple. The fast train delivered us to Amsterdam Central in about 20 minutes, though stepping off the train felt like organised chaos as hundreds of people surged along the platform.
Outside the station, the contrast with Milan was immediate. The air was cold—layer-and-scarf cold—but not bitter. Rain had left the streets damp, and everywhere we turned were canals and bicycles. In Italy, crazy scooters and cars dominate; in Amsterdam, it’s lunatic cyclists. They fly past at alarming speeds, bells ringing, faces stern or surly if you dare cross their path. Quiet until they sound their bells, they may be more dangerous to pedestrians than their Italian counterparts.
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| Train Station |
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| On the train |
Our hotel greeted us with a pleasant reception area and friendly staff. The room, on the third floor, was basic, clean, and comfortable—though not quite as charming as the accommodations we enjoyed in Italy.
One disappointment: the “laundry facility” advertised during booking turned out to be an outsourced service with steep prices (€12.50 for a pair of jeans). Thankfully, the staff pointed us toward a nearby laundromat called the Happy Inn.
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| Interesting street |
Our search for the Happy Inn led us through streets lined with cannabis shops, strip clubs, souvenir stalls, and eateries—a curious mix of indulgence and tourism. Locals and visitors alike seemed to be enjoying themselves, though we were careful to dodge a few passersby; back in Australia, sniffer dogs wouldn’t take kindly to certain scents.
Later, we wandered into another part of the city, discovering more canals, bustling shops, and excellent food. It was a long day, full of contrasts and discoveries—another adventure to add to the journey.
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| Amsterdam Canal |
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| Amsterdam street |
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