Canal plus ... escape to Amsterdam

As it is, you need to have your wits about you. Cycling is a way of life in Amsterdam and woe betide you if you fail to grasp that cyclists always have the right of way, no matter what. They fly along the cobbles at a serious lick, more often than not with a mobile phone in one hand and a cigarette or an umbrella in the other. Obviously, your safest bet would be to stay on the pavement, but there are usually so many bicycles chained up along the side of the road that it's not an option. All you can do is hope that, at the crucial moment, you'll be able to find enough of a ledge to hold your balance for a second or two. Or dive into one of the many tantalising shops. Whether you're in search of antique door handles, vintage clothes, second-hand books and prints, or vast wheels of Gouda, you won't be dis-appointed; Amsterdam is a shopper's paradise, and there are any number of cosy cafés and bars along the way to provide sustenance for the next leg of your outing.

It was in one of the city's 'brown cafés' - the local equivalent of pubs - that we began our weekend. My friend Millie and I arrived on a Friday night, too late for dinner, but easily in time to join the throng at Café Brandon. It was hopping when we arrived. The crowd was an even split between preppy, pretty young college students crammed in the smoke-thick interior, and an older crowd outside. We sat on deep, cushioned benches along the pavement and admired the reflections of the softly lit bridge arches in the black water of the canal, and the homes lining its banks, their huge windows all uncurtained, inviting you to look inside at the warmly lit, stylish interiors.

We were staying just opposite the bar, at the newly revamped Canal House, three former merchants' houses knocked into one. The décor you might call 'rock star' - black walls, black floors, bath- tubs in the bedrooms, purple lighting in the bar - but many original features remain, creating a reassuringly warren-like space, with a high, narrow entrance hall decorated with a medley of artworks old and new, and an entertaining detour through the kitchens to get up the winding stairs to the bedrooms. Other than its excellent food, canal view and charming nothing-is-too-much-bother staff, the hotel's great draw is its central position on Keizersgracht, one of the city's most handsome canals.

The next morning we wandered along the canals to the bustling flower market, where a long line of floating stalls heave with the weight of thousands of bright tulips, gnomes and packets of bulbs and seeds (including several varieties of marijuana), and stopped for a snack at one of the many pavement herring kiosks - open only in the morning, they sell a variety of fish which you can eat straight up with a little red onion or pickle, or have made up into the sandwich of your choice. I recommend the smoked eel, but herring is the great local favourite. We were en route to the Van Gogh Museum, which houses the largest collection of the Dutch artist's works - more than 200 paintings, letters and drawings - in the world and, needless to say, it was packed. But if you have the fighting spirit for it, it's a visual feast and a fascinating insight into the life of a troubled genius.

That evening we tried one of the city's newest and trendiest restaurants, Lion Noir, on Reguliersdwarsstraat, Amsterdam's answer to Old Compton Street. We started with a drink at the zinc-topped bar, and admired the stylish media-type clientele, and the décor - a stuffed peacock here, a buffalo head there, a vast anaconda skeleton winding its way up one wall, and various curiosities in specimen jars lining the shelves. Upstairs in the vivid green dining room, we settled down among the contemporary art to a vast dinner of octopus carpaccio, fillet of beef, and duck. All excellent.

Keen to see the city from the water, we took a boat trip the next morning, which had the advantage of taking us out of the comfort zone of the older part of the city, although the multi-storey bike park behind the central station, and Sea Palace, the first floating Chinese restaurant in Europe, somehow lacked the visual and historical appeal of the streets we had grown accustomed to. But on we floated, along the main canals, Prinsengracht, Keizersgracht and Herengracht, passing boatloads of locals, out for a gentle pootle along the waterways in the sunshine, with coolboxes filled with beer and wine to keep them going. A single gondola even floated quietly by.

Our final meal was at a brand-new Italian restaurant Mazzo, in the arty Jordaan district. The cavernous, warehouse-style space, fitted out with designer lighting and vast black and white photographs, was filled with trendy young students enjoying a late brunch, curled up on leather banquettes with piles of Sunday newspapers. We tucked into bowls of pasta and tumblers of red wine before wending our way back across the canals, on a final pilgrimage to the Nine Streets shopping area for a last burst of retail therapy - taking care to look out for bicycles, naturally. ES