The one with the Badass Women, Flying Trams and Dinner with Elvis.
🇳🇱 Amsterdam – Day 2
Ahhh, Amsterdam. You seductive little city with your sparkling canals, charming chaos, and an endless supply of cheese, wine, and unexpected adventures. Day 2 delivered BIG.
☀️ Weather Report: Glorious
We were blessed with “postcard-perfect” weather — blue skies, radiant sunshine, and just enough breeze to make us feel like classy continental explorers rather than a gaggle of over-excited Brits dodging cyclists.
🧀 The Cheese, The Wine & The Eye Candy 🍷
As the group glided off onto a boat cruise promising unlimited cheese and wine (yes, please), I waved them goodbye like a proud mum sending her kids off to university… if the university was floating and boozy.
Word on the canal is the captain was easy on the eye — but let’s be honest, after your third glass of wine, even the canal bollards start looking like Ryan Gosling.
💪 Badass Women & a Battery Breakdown
While they were wine-swooning, I ventured out solo on The Badass Women of Amsterdam tour — a 2.5-hour celebration of powerful women who overcame poverty, persecution, and patriarchal nonsense to shape the city. They were rebels, pioneers, and yes, total legends.
But just as my feminist fire was fully lit… disaster struck. My phone dropped to 15% battery. Cue internal screaming. My entire existence was on that phone: boarding passes, bank cards, directions, memes.
I rummaged through my rucksack like a fox in a bin — no power bank. Panic rising. I phoned Rachel like it was a lifeline on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. She waited patiently in a park (actual angel). I arrived flustered… only to discover my power bank was safely tucked away in my secret compartment. Because obviously it was.
🚋 Flying Trams & Cocktails
Fully recharged (both emotionally and electronically), we hit up a cute bar for pre-dinner drinks. Laughter, cocktails, minor oversharing — perfection.
Then… the tram.
Look, nobody tells you that Amsterdam trams are basically fairground rides with windows. The moment it lurched into motion, we became human pinballs, limbs flailing, accidentally cuddling strangers. One local gave me a polite smile that said, “I didn’t expect a British woman in my lap today, but here we are.”
🦜 Dinner with Elvis (the Parrot, Not the King)
Back at the hotel, happy hour was calling our name louder than a karaoke machine at 11pm. Then came dinner — at the restaurant with the parrot. Yes, the parrot same parrot that we met yesterday. Elvis, to be exact. He has his own Instagram, as all good parrots do.
Between the cracking food, the endlessly entertaining staff, and Elvis throwing in some well-timed squawks, it was the perfect farewell meal. My wine glass was never empty and neither was my heart.
👀 One Last Adventure…
There’s just one more thing before we head home tomorrow — a visit to The Sex Museum. Because nothing says “we’ve cultured ourselves this weekend” quite like ogling antique vibrators and Victorian smut. See you next week!
Bedtime now. Night night. 😴✨