Forget Amsterdam – spend a weekend in the Hague

I love Amsterdam. I go every year for the galleries, the opera, the beer, the genever, the rijsttaffel, the brown cafés and, well, the fun. I’ve had many a fine time there, sometimes with and sometimes without dear Mrs Ray. It’s a top place. 

I was cut to the quick, then, on hearing recently that the good burghers of Amsterdam had asked any British tourists in search of a ‘messy night’ to stay away. Admittedly, this controversial campaign is aimed chiefly at 18- to 35-year-olds on stag parties, rather than senior railcard-holders like me. But any drunk and disorderly behaviour risks a hefty fine and a criminal record – and since I’m fond of the occasional evening of great wickedness but can’t afford the fine and already have the criminal record, I decided to take my custom elsewhere. I’m not going where I’m not wanted. 

So, Mrs R and I went to the Hague (Den Haag) for the weekend instead and – who’d have thought it? – had a hoot.