A Week and a Half of Autumn Magic

I landed in the Netherlands at the start of November, officially for a conference, but the trip quietly turned into so much more. The moment I stepped out of Schiphol, the cold Dutch air felt crisp and refreshing, like the country was welcoming me with its own gentle calm.

I didn’t stay in Amsterdam right away. Instead, I took a bus straight to The Hague, watching long stretches of fields, bicycles gliding past the roads, and little houses that looked like they belonged in a painting. By the time I reached NH Atlantic Den Haag, the sky had turned silver-grey, and the ocean behind the hotel felt like a soft, steady heartbeat to the city.

Those first days were a mix of conference sessions, long walks, sea breeze, and discovering The Hague in little pockets of time. I might not have seen the tulip beds in bloom, but I watched autumn leaves fall in golden layers, soft and warm against the cold wind. And one morning, almost out of nowhere, a rainbow stretched across the clear sky, a quiet reminder that beauty shows up in every season.

I visited the International Criminal Court (ICC)  too, one of the most important legal institutions in the world, where global crimes like genocide and war crimes are investigated. Even just standing outside felt meaningful and grounding, like stepping into a place where real global stories take shape.

After four days, I returned to Amsterdam, and that’s when everything felt magical in its own unexpected way. Amsterdam welcomed me not with sunshine… but with rain. Soft, cold, delicate rain that made the canals shimmer and the streets glow. People cycled with umbrellas in one hand, completely unfazed, and I loved that energy immediately.

And then, the most surreal moment, slight snowfall. Tiny white flakes drifted through the air, melting the moment they landed. It wasn’t dramatic or heavy, just enough to make the whole city feel like a dream.

I didn’t chase tourist spots. I didn’t rush anywhere. I just wandered, warm drinks in hand, walking across bridges that felt like they belonged on postcards, taking in the gentle cold of November. The city didn’t need grand sights to impress me; the weather, the calm canals, and the glowing streets were already enough.

My week and a half in the Netherlands wasn’t about doing everything; it was about feeling everything. The rain, the snow, the quiet mornings by the sea, the autumn leaves, the rainbow, the cold air, the soft light, it all came together like a calm little story I didn’t expect, but absolutely needed.

It wasn’t touristy.

It wasn’t rushed.

It wasn’t perfectly planned.

But it was magical.

In a quiet, grounding, unforgettable way.