Spring on the Canals
It was a warm spring afternoon in Amsterdam, the kind where thick clouds blanketed the sky but the air was soft and pleasant. There was no sun, but no chill either—just that quiet, gentle warmth that made it easy to be outside for hours. Pax, who ran a small fleet of boats, had just eased his catamaran into the water near a quieter canal in the west of the city.
This catamaran was steady and spacious enough for a relaxed outing. A young couple arrived first—she in all white outfit, he in a shirt with rolled-up sleeves. They climbed aboard with practiced ease, settling onto the benches with a relaxed laugh.
“Perfect day for a float,” the man said, glancing at the sky. The clouds moved slowly overhead, casting a silvery tone across the water, while the city’s colors—brick reds, leafy greens, soft greys—stood out like a painting.
They drifted through the canals, past rows of old houseboats and gently leaning buildings, tulips blooming in pots along the edges. The air smelled like damp stone and spring flowers. After a while, they stopped at a small dock, where their friends waited with tote bags full of food and a small Bluetooth speaker already playing soft music.
One by one they climbed aboard, greeting each other with hugs and opening bottles of sparkling water and cider. The boat wasn’t big, but it had just enough room for the group to spread out, relax, and snack as Pax navigated through the wider canals.
They laughed, talked about upcoming travel plans, and pointed out the quirks of passing boats—one had a hammock, another a garden of potted plants spilling over the roof. Even with the cloud cover, everything felt light and easy.
There was no rush. No tourist traffic. Just the soft rumble of the engine, the occasional ripple of passing water, and friends floating through one of Europe’s most beautiful cities in the calm embrace of a spring afternoon.