The first sensation was of unreality.
Of not being able to believe that they lived like this, everything so clean and tidy. I felt that they were pretending.
That at any moment, when we turned the corner, we would find a Dantesque panorama of exclusion or violence, and then the mask would have fallen.
Arriving at the hotel after long journeys, I sometimes get assaulted by the irrepressible need to run down the street, to verify that everything is still there.
At other times I direct myself to the bathroom, to release long-held sphincters, while I meditate on the cultural differences so latent in such a crucible of races.
Another frequent sensation is frustration and even anger, not so much by the observance of such a standard of life and relaxation in the Amsterdam population...
... but rather by the low availability of the Wi-Fi network in the characteristic streets and channels, for the short life of my battery, and definitely because of the lack of well located plugs in our room.
Separate paragraph for the impressive physical and possibly mental superiority of the Dutch races, so much the Aryan as the Black and the "Brownish". In here, it is a never-ending Benetton ad. A rainbow whose colors you really want to touch.
