Pssht.

With Eline on bikes, searching for empty houses to occupy in the North of Amsterdam, across the river IJ. Right next to the industrial area we are roaming, an inviting wooded path takes you bang into what feels like the middle of the Dutch countryside. Preposterously cute streets lined by wonky, multi-coloured brick houses with their stair-stepped gables. The insect-like metal whizz of the bikes rushing past carrying their brightly blond riders. Groups of dazzlingly blond children in their pink dresses or yellow shirts with their ice-cream or balloons.
Steeples guide you to the small marinas of wooden sailing boats that they overlook.

Hard to believe we are technically in a nearby suburb of the capital city of this country.

Keep it a secret, don't tell anyone.