After the chock of the Red Light District, I just happened to walk by a shop selling frozen yoghurt. And I felt that that was exactly what I deserved.
Last year at the farm in California, I shared a room with Sarah, and later I got to crash on her and her boyfriends futon in San Francisco. She introduced me to frozen yoghurt, and I am forever grateful to her for that. Unfortunately, it is not that easy to get hold of fro-yo in Stockholm, at least not places where it’s sold like it’s supposed to be eaten: with pieces of fruit and chocolate on top.
But here, in Amsterdam, I could buy an entire cup with fro-yo, and top it with American blueberries, strawberries and chocolate chips – the absolute best way to eat it, no objections.
I took my fro-yo and sat down by a canal in the afternoon sunshine, listening to a podcast of the Swedish radio morning program Morgonpasset and watching the boats float by. Life was pretty good. Pretty good indeed.
Katja Malmborg 