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Bruges? I’m Kind of a Big Dill (by Train)

My briny wanderlust struck again, and this time I rolled (well, rattled slightly in my jar) out of Paris toward Bruges, Belgium—because a sensi...

Amsterdam: In a Pickle Over Canals (and Loving It) — By Train

After Bruges, I did what any well-traveled, three-inch pickle with a timetable and a dream would do: I caught a direct, fast international train north. Belgium to Amsterdam is comfortably under 600 km, which means fewer “Are we there yet?” moments and more time for what I do best—observing humans, collecting oddities, and fulfilling my purpose: to prove the world is tastier when you stay curious (and slightly vinegar-forward).

The Ride: Smooth Rails, No Sour Notes

The route felt like it was designed by someone who respects a crisp traveler. One minute: Belgian platforms and waffle perfume. Next minute: Dutch efficiency and bicycles multiplying like cucumbers in summer.

I traveled with my current inventory (a modest-but-mighty kit for a sentient pickle on assignment):

• My trusty jar (home, helmet, and emergency flotation device)
• A tiny notebook for field notes and flavor reviews
• A pocket-sized rail map I insist on calling my “brine line”

Why Amsterdam? Because It’s a Big Dill (Logistically)

Amsterdam isn’t just charming—it’s strategic. The city is an easy onward hub for the region, perfect for a pickle who may need to hop to Rotterdam, Utrecht, or beyond at a moment’s notice (sometimes you’re hunted by hunger, sometimes by curiosity; I don’t ask questions, I just board trains).

And then there’s the holy trinity: world-class museums, canals, and effortless wandering.

Canals, Culture, and Maximum Crunch

The canals looked like someone gently combed the city with water. I perched jar-side on a bridge, watching boats drift by like slow thoughts. At the Rijksmuseum, I tried to look sophisticated, but it’s hard when you’re essentially a snack with opinions. The Van Gogh Museum? Intense. Even I felt a little… dill-icate afterward.

By evening, I found a canal-side snack situation and considered the philosophical question: if I, a pickle, am in Amsterdam—am I finally in my natural brine-vironment?

Before leaving, I quietly added two new treasures to my kit: a mini Delft-blue tile (for luck) and a striped bicycle bell keychain—because nothing says “Amsterdam” like a polite ding and a little drama.