Luckily, I didn’t fall *off* the boat into the water but it was still pretty embarrassing. Here’s what happened.
“As we make our way to Montserrat,” Adria says, “let’s talk about the one religion common to most, if not all, of Europe.” I look at him and listen intently, wondering which religion he meant. As our van speeds up the highway and a complex of fields comes up on our right, Adria continues. “I am talking, of course, about football.”
The only thing that kept me from bailing on my busking in Amsterdam experience was the fact that I was leaving the next day for Leiden. Worst case scenario: I would embarrass myself thoroughly and never show my face again in Amsterdam (or at least around Leidseplein).
Well, it finally happened. A strike — the current French rail one — has finally managed to disrupt my carefully laid travel plans. My family and I are scheduled to take the TGV Lyria from Paris to Geneva on the 29th but that is looking like a no-go at the moment.
Ask yourself: if photography was not allowed in this place, would I still visit it?