September 2007 • All I remember now are fragments: spending a few hours at the Van Gogh Museum, getting a skeptical welcome at a bar in a squat, tallying the cyclists whose bikes did/didn't have crossbars (with breakdown by gender), being accosted by a pack of schoolgirls as they promoted good hygiene to passersby, and having a remarkable tendency to brain myself in low doorways. It was a splendid fog.