Amsterdam.

Cheap flights from our local airport have made Amsterdam easily accessible so John and I have been there several times and we've always enjoyed ourselves. We've pretty much done 'tourist' Amsterdam- we've seen Rembrandt's 'Night Watch' , visited the Van Gogh museum, been on a canal tour, wandered around the flower market, ogled our way through the Red Light District and sworn at the bicycles. So on our last visit, we had a different priority. We went to get some cigars and cheese.

There are some wonderful cigar shops in Amsterdam, with selections from all over the world. And they're much cheaper than in the UK. John gets a glazed look of pleasure when he's in one of these emporiums and I eventually have to pry him away from the cabinets and out the door.

But that's enough about cigars. Let's get to the important stuff, shall we? What about the cheese?

The cheese shops of Amsterdam are temples of pure delight. They have mounds of the stuff, in various shades of creamy heaven with aromas from old socks to 'Phew'. There is stinky blue and oozing brie and everything in between.

It was in one of these fine old establishments that I first sampled Aged Edam. I wasn't too excited when the white coated lady behind the counter first offered it to me; Edam has always seemed to me rather rubbery and lacking in character; but Aged Edam- well, what a surprise! It's hard and crumbly, like a cheddar, with a delicious rich, nutty flavour. It instantly became a favourite. And this shop is the only place I've ever seen it for sale.

So when the cupboard was bare at home, we decided to make an overnight trip to 'load up' with our favourite things.

John didn't mess around- he bought his cigars on our way from the airport to the hotel. But cigars are lightweight and easy to carry; cheese is not. I decided to get my cheese on the way out of town the next day. After all, I knew where the cheese shop was; or so I thought.

The next day it rained. Really rained. We ate at our favourite cafe and sploshed soddenly round the flower market. Finally it was time to head for the airport. And the cheese shop. Only I couldn't find it. We searched up and down all the winding streets and asked for directions- but nobody seemed to know where it was. We were drenched and the clock was ticking. John was looking decidedly dejected and damp, as fat raindrops rolled down his nose and 'plunked' into his beard. I knew that if I was going to get my cheese -and I was determined I was- I'd have to leave him somewhere warm and dry while I continued my search.

If you've ever been to Amsterdam, you'll know there are hundreds of coffee shops, and John thought he'd wait in one of them. But there are also a lot of cannabis cafes, places where you can buy and smoke a joint. John is the straightest person I have ever met. No way would he knowingly go into a seedy dope bar- but of course, sod's law being alive and well, that was all we could find.

I was getting desperate. If we couldn't locate somewhere dry for John, I wasn't going to get my cheese and that just wasn't an option. Finally I saw a cafe that seemed OK. Then I looked at the name. 'The Grass Hopper'. As in 'Grass'. Oh dear. I looked at my watch. I opened the door and sniffed the air. It wasn't too bad. And John hadn't seen the sign. I consulted my conscience for, oh, at least 3 seconds. I shoved him in. "I'll meet you in 15" I yelled, and promptly ran out the door.

As I legged it down the street, I turned back to see him looking forlornly at my rapidly retreating back. He tried to call something to me - it could have been 'Help!'- and then he gave up. He knew he'd been abandoned.

So did I get my cheese? You bet. How did John get on in the cannabis cafe where I left him? Well, he's a good sport. He didn't complain too much! In fact he said it was quite interesting, but I strongly suspect he was just being nice.

Did anyone learn anything from this little adventure? Well, I've learned not to leave the important stuff 'til the last moment; and John has learned that I really can't be trusted round any kind of food. But I suspect he knew that all along!

Just a note about the photo's I've used here: the ones with flowers were taken at the flower market (OK, so you'd already figured that out!).

There's John taking a photo of the 'Night Watch' interpreted in bronze- it's in Rembrandtplein if you're going there.

Next is the interior of a coffee house. They are all different and many are quite charming.

And I had to include a picture of the Magic Mushroom shop window!

The last photo is the patient man himself, standing by a canal.