While Amsterdam is pretty much a giant party now, it does have its share of terrible history, particularly in World War II. The city was comparatively liberal when it came to religion, and acted as something of a safe haven for religious minorities (the pilgrims who sailed to Plymouth on the Mayflower originally fled from England to Holland first). For this reason, Amsterdam probably had the largest Jewish population in Europe before the war, and also the most famous war victim, Anne Frank. The house where she and her family hid in the secret annex must be the city's most visited sight, and it's quite moving. There's an immediacy to her diary and the house that makes you feel like she's right there, and it's really moving to see all the newspaper cutouts of movie stars and childish paintings she plastered on her walls. Of course the crowds take some of the solemnity out of the experience, but I had been a few times and was really moved by it. This time I wasn't however, because somewhere in the warren of rooms I lost Somchai. He has a terrible sense of direction, and I doubted he even knew the name of the hotel we were staying at, so after looking for him by going through the museum four times, I thought I would never see him again, which would not be a good way for us to start our married life. Fortunately on the fifth trip through, I found him, and tied a leash on his neck for the rest of the trip (not really).