I hear Amsterdam is known for its banals. I mean canals.

To compensate for the unforgiveable longwindedness of my previous few posts, this one will be brief, if only bc I have no wifi in my boatel room (boat-hotel, in Amsetdam, near the floating Chinese Restaurant), which also has no eletrical input to charge my things, which doens't really matter bc I am only here for 2 nights and then am off to Paris, to which I've decided to return rather than go to Lyon, where as far as I can divine there is nothing for me. I didn't get to see the Louvre the first time through (except to use the toilet), nor Notre Dame, and I kind of want to see the city by bicycle too since I've had such a good time seeing Ghent and Bruges this way (and perhaps Amsterdam--the bike-stealingest city on earth--tomorrow).

After 2 days in Paris, it's down to Nice to meet up with my NeeNee, then back to Marseille for a couple days, then back to LA, which I am really missing these days. Perhaps it's the traveling alone thing. Perhaps it's just that these canal cities are starting to meld together into one giant canal mass that I can't seem to escape. Beautful though they are. Is there a condition in the DSM IV called "canal fever"? If so, I think I am getting it.

I took a cheering 25 km bike ride through the countryside outside of Bruges yesterday afternoon, which was incredible and exhausting and a rich memory that I could feel forming as it happened--which is a strange sensation let me tell you. Riding a jalopy 3 speed with a tallboy of Leffe in hand and music in my ears and light rain pelting my face and a canal by my side the whole way (I didn't feel the fever yesterday) and baby lambs next to the road, bleeting and looking fragile--this is a series of images that will remain clear and uplifting I think for the rest of my days. (Sean, I wish you were there.)

I have so much more to tell about Ghent and Bruges and my tour of the Cantillon brewery in my last moments in Brussels, and so many pictures as well, but it will have to wait, perhaps another day, perhaps two, until I have access to free wifi. In the next installment, expect to see and hear about my spiritual revelations in the Ghent Belfort (perhaps a side effect of staying in a converted monstary, which was itself something worth telling of), about my evening with the Bruges locals getting pissed on local brew and wathcing Belgian football, then nearly throwing up after riding the G Force with a bunch of adolescents at the carnival around the corner from my hostel, and more about my amazing cycling adventures.

Now, to wander.