anne, frankly

We were worried we might be stuck in a long queue before gaining access to Anne Frank's house, as the hour's time lag made us wake up at a quarter-past nine. In the event however, the wait was barely half an hour and we were in. Once inside, the queue extended right around the tortuous route through the many rooms of the house, and as nearly all the furniture had been removed to allow for the immense tides of visitors that throng on a daily basis, the tour turned out to be an atmosphere-stunted procession through a series of empty rooms. Most moving for me were the famous door that passed as a bookcase, and the little marks on one wall where little Anne's height was recorded over that critical 2 year period.

I had resolved to buy a copy of "The Diary of a Young Girl" at the (inevitable) gift shop, though baulked at the idea of paying 12.50 euros for a book that was clearly marked as being for sale in the UK at 8.99 sterling. I'm sorry, Otto, but that's a step too far even for me. I'll score it off Amazon when I get back at half that, probably...