Parcly Taxel: I never expected returning to continental Europe so soon after exploring two countries with open borders through which many other countries' ponies, products, services and cultures flowed and intermingled without the least resistance.

Yet Luna, walking into my dream about two months before this trip, noted that I had bottled myself up last time in the German-language area of Europe. She whispered into my dream self's ear that I should "resume" my prior Germany/Switzerland excursion in a "neighbouring land" without further explicating... and my subconscious decided on the country most linguistically similar to Germany.

Spindle: The Netherlands flanks Germany's northwestern border, which meant that reaching our first stop of Amsterdam required an even longer flight from our point of departure (Canterlot Castle) than what we undertook to Frankfurt. A relatively short hour longer.

By this time Parcly knew full well the rigours and expectations of very long haul (> 6 hours) pegasus wing-powered flights like this. At cruising altitude she could just sleep and let acquired wing reflexes maintain her course, but some mechanism was needed to respond to obstacles like hard clouds and no-fly zones; she thus relied on my lidless, always watching eyes.

Parcly: I found my flight time of 13.5 hours apt, given the closeness of my trip to Halloween, and also embraced lucid dreaming while sleep-flying. Sensing a change of heart, my long-lost pet – the tantaphoenix Niobe, whom I had originally called Kino when it splintered from Luna's Tantabus in the Tokyo Skytree incident and opened a rift to reality – reasserted its powers by showing current scenes from the waking world in a magic mirror that I could watch (treat) or swap (trick) at pleasure.

Yes, in-flight entertainment. For the longest time I shunned it, preferring the onboard flight tracker if ever I had any urge to use that small screen facing me, but once I discovered Sport 24 it immediately became my soma whenever I was in an airliner.

Monday Night Football result: Cowboys 20 Chargers 17

Spindle: The orange-yellow glow heralding a new day had already broken over the horizon when we touched down, yet the air was far more comfortable for me than my corporeal companion. In her post-flight recovery daze, Parcly bought a train ticket valid to any of several stations throughout the city but beelined for the first train direct to Amsterdam Centraal when she intended Amsterdam Bijlmer ArenA. Fortunately there is a direct link between those stations.

We left our luggage at the Jaz in the City hotel just before 10am, bought a 3-day metro pass and began our journey through living beauty.

Rarity: Why is Amsterdam living beauty, you ask? For one, its historic core is a spider's web of canals (plus the Amstel) surrounding islands of picturesque buildings, the whole layout forming a World Heritage Site; much of the populace also uses trains, trams and bicycles instead of cars, making for a very clean environment.

Every big city seems to have a district or street catering to the foreign tourist's needs, filled with global brand names and independent shops selling their interpretation of local culture. Amsterdam's instance is the Kalverstraat, where Parcly built her own stroopwaffel as her first food consumed in the Netherlands.

Parcly: Ancillary requirements of World Heritage status mean that the canal area is relatively separate from public transport. Now nearing noon I wished to get to Café Winkel 43 in said area, but from Van Wonderen Stroopwaffel that entailed a lengthy walk crossing all concentric canals and passing the Anne Frank House/Museum... all for signature apple pie with whipped cream and a cup of latte. Well worth the trek though.

Spindle: On our way back to the Jaz we revisited the bustling Dam, home to the National Monument comprising only a thin cone with rounded tip and a few statues, and the real Magere Brug (Skinny Bridge); Parcly had developed a mild affection for it after reproducing its central portion in the trip's travel cover.

Princess Luna: It was an hour or so of absorbing the day's sights into her subconscious before my dear genie waded into the "night side" of this city. First up was the world's largest bicycle parking in the basement of Amsterdam Centraal, with 7000 spaces; she had been hunting it mid-afternoon from surface level before discovering its tunnel entrance nestled among the Metro fare gates.

She then hopped onto GVB's free ferry shuttle across the IJ, Amsterdam's main body of water. On the other side lay a few high-rises and shards of expression shielding much older projects, for the mediaeval city defined itself as a fortress around the canals and only expanded beyond them in the Age of Aquarius.

Parcly: Tired but emotionally overwhelmed after the day, I boarded the tram to Marnixstraat and had dinner of gravied mashed potato and various meats at Moeders. Ostensibly as celebration of getting here in one piece I had a Jopen draft beer alongside it...

Spindle: You know what happened next.