Beauty

Today, since it’s spring and the Dutch national flower has sprung, we visited Keukenhof, a privately-owned botanic garden on the outskirts of Amsterdam. At this time of year, it is brilliantly and beautifully ablaze with untold varieties of tulips, hyacinths and daffodils.

 

Unfortunately great swathes of exquisitely curated flowers attract not just horticulturally-minded old ladies and occasional Lego minifigs, but also that most reviled class of tourist: Eastern European Influencers. These were women between the aged of 15 and 45, dressed rather too lightly for a chilly 8 degree Amsterdam spring day, with hard, nasty faces under half a kilo of pancake makeup, turning on bedroom eyes and pouty lips in front of a cascade of innocent but vividly coloured blossoms. They had less resting bitch face than resting psychopath face, and they flocked to the flower-filled backdrops faster than their boyfriends flock to the vodka bottle. 

 

Still, it takes a lot of influencers to ruin a stunning botanical achievement like Keukenhof, and while there was a lot of influencers, there wasn’t quite enough to do that.

I didn’t bring a head with bedroom eyes and pouty lips for Explorer Sam, but he did his best, as usual.