What did I know about Amsterdam before I visited it? It has canals, bicycles, cannabis… and a famous red light district.

Well, I had seen all of these and there was no way I was going to leave without De Wallan.

‘You took your parents to the red light district?’ my friends asked when I came back. They were astounded. ‘Isn’t that a kind of weird thing to do with your parents?’

In Amsterdam’s red light district, there are large glass windows. The idea is that prostitutes rent a window and use it to, ah, display their wares.

I was disappointed, actually. We visited in the twilight and there were already women working the windows. They wore bras and briefs, were in superb physical shape, young and taut. But they just stood there, looking a bit bored.

‘Come on, girls,’ I said. ‘Dance! Gyrate! Do something! Sheesh, I could do better.’

Someone suggested that maybe they would move more once they got a paid gig.

Interesting facts from our Amsterdam Lonely Planet Guide: Forty percent of visits to Amsterdam’s prostitutes are UK men from across the Channel. On average, each encounter costs 50€ and lasts 15 minutes.

We had checked in to our Amsterdam hotel and had the afternoon and evening to get to know the city. It was sunny and we had been walking for about two hours.

‘Look, it’s Ben and Jerry’s,’ I said. We don’t have B&J’s in Australia. There are B&J stores in England but I hadn’t tried it yet. I love ice cream so it was only a matter of time.

‘Why don’t we get some?’ mum said. I didn’t need much convincing.

There were a few people in line ahead of me. I watched a girl and a boy point out their flavour choices. The counter woman scooped the ice cream into waffle cones and the happy couple stepped into the sunshine with ice creams in their hands.

Strange. I didn’t see them give her any money.

The next man wanted New York Fudge Chunk. ‘Can I have it in a cup?’ he asked.

‘Sure,’ she said and scooped the glorious ice cream into a cardboard cup. He tried to give her a Euro note but she waved it off.

‘No, it’s free!’ she said, smiling.

‘Free?’ He looked confused.

‘Free?’ I thought, blinking with growing excitement.

‘Yes! Today is Free Cone Day!’

‘Wow. Thank you!’ he said.

I rushed up to the counter. ‘Free Cone Day? Is it Free Cone Day?!’ I had never heard of such a thing.

‘Yes!’ The look of realisation in people’s faces was clearly making the ice cream lady’s day. ‘Just for today.’

‘Well, I’ll have three!’ I shouted. I had died and gone to heaven.

Ben & Jerry’s hold Free Cone Day on the same day all around the world every year. Mark it in your calendars, friends. Watch out for it in April or May.

My parents and I had a 7 AM flight from Stansted airport to Amsterdam. We’re a very punctual family, which meant we were awake by 2:30 AM and at the Cambridge bus station forty-five minutes later. Better to be at the airport half an hour early than 15 minutes late, that’s our way.

Four or five other sleepy people were waiting at the station with their bags. When the 787 came, I handed over £30 and the driver stored our luggage in the belly of the bus. We took three seats in the middle of the bus and settled down to catch up on sleep.

The driver started the bus and in the silence of the very early morning, the bus U-turned to begin its journey.

Suddenly, the bus stopped. The door swooshed open and a young dark haired man in a white sweater threw himself on board.

‘Sorry, I’m was runnning up behind you and shouting, thank you, thank you very much, I’d like a ticket,” he gabbled.

As the long-suffering bus driver took his money, I murmured to my parents, ‘He is very lucky. He got an extra half hour of sleep.’