Narrow stairwells spiral down. Cobblestones and bricks tile similarly-narrow streets. Large hooks are installed at the very top of each house in order to heave up furniture that would otherwise not be able to reach upper levels. You become lost. Flowers carpet the top of house boats and pop out of muddy pots. Canals slither out of roads. Heaps of bicycles litter traffic and act like thick icing to the Amsterdam city cake. Here there are separate traffic lights and isolated lanes for those two-wheelers. Cheese shops dot the lanes. Trams hum along. And fresh bread wafts the air. You are lost in a beautiful world.
Locals stride out of their residences, chatting in Dutch but switching flawlessly to English, French or German when prompted. Each of their adornments is thoughtfully picked out and modeled to perfection. Converse clad the feet and modernity the mind.
I’m lost. Everywhere, 6 foot tall people walk in a dollhouse with miniature food, rooms, dogs, and tote bags. Moreover, the modern people and the archaic scenery have an ironic relationship of nourishing and juxtaposing each other. I am lost in a backdrop from the 40s with neighbors of the future.