I’ve written here in the past about being obsessive about missing flights. And in my long career of taking flights for business purposes, I missed my first flight on Friday morning.

And not to do things by halves, I missed my second flight later that same day.

Missing the first flight was entirely due to the freak weather conditions around London at the end of the week. Snow? In winter? They never saw it coming.

via Not-So-EasyJet.

A horror story about what happens when your airline lets you down!

I’ve been to the National Gallery, which is free, but might be a bit dry for the three terrors. Are the other galleries – Tate Modern, etc – free to visit as well?

It’s actually been a busy few weeks, so me and my sore plums just had to keep on moving with little time to rest. Most notably we were shipped to Amsterdam for a couple of days courtesy of the sister-in-law.

My reactions to Amsterdam are mixed. As a red-blooded guy, the legends of the Red Light District and the er…liberal attitudes appealed to me. On the flight across, we read about how the legalisation of the area had led to a safer place for punters and prostitutes alike.

I wondered how this would play out in real life, and was disappointed to discover a seedy dive with crowds of youths lingering around the area – not at all the enlightened sexual mecca I’d been imagining! Think Gresham Street in Belfast with a few sex shows thrown in for good measure.

Now, believe it or not, I didn’t understand the reason behind the name “Red Light Area” until last week. If you’re a greenhorn like me, read on:

Basically, as you walk through the area, you’ll see buildings with red neon lights in the windows. And in each window, provocatively dressed babes try and tempt you in for a bit of paid-for nookie. Now, in fairness to them, (most) were very good looking girls, not the clapped-out hags you might expect to see Wayne Rooney ‘knocking’ around with.

Mrs L was surprised too, and indulged a spot of me eyeing up hookers for about five minutes. It’s one thing looking at semi-nude babes in a magazine, but hard to ogle when they’re staring right back at you.

Anyway, stray away from the red light bits and Amsterdam’s quite a nice place. Walking down the main thoroughfares with all their gift shops reminded me of O’Connell Street, but with dope and sex motifs instead of shamrocks and leprechauns! Restaurants were of generally good quality and we ate well for reasonable prices.

So there you go, nothing sinister happened, thanks for your concern! I’ll try and dig out some of the photos we managed to take later on.