Amsterdam — city of old, of stone, art, passion. Light from old-fashioned streetlamps spilled into dark, rain-swept corners. People huddled in the narrow roadsides. Everywhere the quiet lap of the canal.
I was drinking it in, a city I’d never been to before. Here for the day as a tourist, hungry-eyed.
We saw the canals, the bikes, the artwork everywhere, the things that give this small city its charm. We visited the Esnoga, the Portuguese synagogue we’d learned about in Jewish History class, rising before our eyes.
“It was the largest synagogue in the world at the time it was built, around 1675,” the tour guide said. “It symbolised religious tolerance in Amsterdam in the 17th century.”
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