
So there we were, sipping shiraz at sunset and minding our own business, when there was a rude rap at the window. And then a hiss.
"Hullo? Goeiemiddag!" I said, affecting my best Dutch greeting as I spun around.
"Honk!" responded the intruder: a handsome white swan pecking at a porthole of our rented houseboat on the Amstel River and hoping for a handout.
That kind of thing happens when you bunk on a barge, as we did on a recent getaway to Amsterdam. Sure, we considered more conventional lodging, but hotel, schmotel. In this dreamy European capital laced with canals, there's water, water everywhere, and you might as well stay on some.
We weren't sure what to expect when we booked ourselves onto one of the city's hundreds of houseboats.
Would it rock back and forth, or bob up and down? Would we get a hot shower and a decent night's sleep? Would it smell like fish? Would we bump our heads? Would we get cabin fever, or worse, become seasick?
All our fears were unfounded — and every expectation was exceeded.
Aboard the Verwisseling ("Exchange"), a 130-year-old steel-hulled barge that once hauled wood in and out of Amsterdam, we enjoyed the kind of funky holiday that's guaranteed to float your boat.
Amsterdam's waterways, including the Amstel River that sluices through the city, are lined with an estimated 2,500 houseboats. So large and unruly is the flotilla, overwhelmed officials have slapped a freeze on the construction of any new moorings.
Barges became a popular alternative in cramped Amsterdam during a housing crunch in the 1960s. Then, it was a bohemian lifestyle and a bargain. Today, it's mostly a yuppie subculture, if only because boat maintenance requires deep pockets.
Some of these vessels are crafted from oak or teak; others from steel, concrete or prefabricated materials. Some are irreplaceable bits of floating history; others are abandoned or in need of major repairs. A few are just weird, like the "Cat Boat" on the elegant Singel canal, a floating refuge for hundreds of meowing strays.