That first night, I curled up with my book. It kept me company into the wee hours of the night. I was only able to sleep for a couple of hours between 4 a.m. and 6 a.m., then was awake for the day.In the foggy, quiet morning, I felt like I had the city to myself. The smell of weed, which gets stronger as the day goes on, had cleared from the air. My hotel provided breakfast, and it was one of the most amazing breakfasts I’ve ever had – a hard boiled egg in a special little egg cup, yogurt, granola with milk, a clementine, and a little glass of chocolate milk. I ate quietly, checked out of my room, and was able to leave my bags behind so I could explore the city without them.I started for Rijksmuseum on foot. The city is slow to wake up, and it was fun to join the commuters and see parents taking their kids to school by bike or on foot. I made a stop at the outdoor flower market on my way.There are a number of museums to choose from in Amsterdam, and I picked the one that I thought would give me the best overview of art and history in the Netherlands. Since I only went to one, I can’t compare it to anything, but I got to see many of my favorite artists – Rembrandt, Vermeer, Van Gogh, and M.C. Escher, among others.On my next trip, I’d like to try the Van Gogh Museum, as well as focus more on the World War II history of the city. Rijksmuseum was just what I wanted this time around, though – I spent over three hours wandering its halls and really enjoyed myself.On my way out, there were street musicians playing classical music near the exit, sending me back into the city to the strains of a familiar piece. I headed for the Seven Bridges I had missed the view of on the canal tour. In order to really see and photograph it properly, you need to be on a boat, but it was still pretty from up on the bridges themselves. I had a couple of kind strangers take my photo, and took a bunch of pictures of my own, then continued back toward my hotel to pick up my bags.I had a little time to kill before the meet-up for the retreat. I lurked around the shop where we would rendezvous, then ended up parking myself near a canal in view of the train station, a few minutes’ walk from the shop. I read a book leaning against the wall overlooking the water, then headed back the shop, looking for my group.

When I walked into the meeting place, I could barely make eye contact with anyone from the group. I was cowering in anxiety. When the other women remembered our meeting later, it put the change the retreat generated in even sharper relief.

While the beginning of my stay in the Netherlands had been incredible – relaxing, interesting, and fun – I wasn’t sure what this next part was going to look like. There was a lot of pressure for it to unlock a door for me.

Want to keep reading? The next post in this series is about the retreat.

I totally wore my Van Gogh Starry Night socks to the museum…