Now, everyone had either gone home or decided to stop moving around.

Sometimes you can’t help but go up to someone and ask: “What are you doing?”

She was texting friends at one in the morning. She also wished to know why I asked.

“Just curious. That’s all.”

Funny how the camera always ends up seeing what I cannot. I thought that was someone on a bicycle. The camera saw the ghost of a low flying bird.

What makes a city a city; the buildings, or the people? I suppose it depends on what kind of city you’re looking for. Some parts of Amsterdam, at this time of night, are like empty theatre sets—waiting desperately for the actors to return and fill the scene with energy and life.

Perspective, perspective. The lower you get to the ground, the more imposing the bicycles become. I imagine life on an Amsterdam street would be pretty nerve wracking for a poodle.

Lights at the end of this tunnel, with a roof made from night sky and stars. That's a welcome sign for a thirsty traveller.

Yes of course, these bars are here to keep the bikes safe—though probably not in the manner you expect. Some of Amsterdam’s bicycles have evolved to the point where they are able to ride around town without their owners. This two-wheeled misbehaviour has resulted in numerous incidents of panicked and confused tourists running into police stations in the middle of the night. It’s not very good for (the tourist) business, which explains why bars and chains are needed to keep bicycles from wandering off.

It’s a whizzbang world out there: the city at night, that. Giant fireflies zoom all over the place, and no one seems to notice.

If I were to come back as a building, I'd make sure I had an illuminated steeple.

I’d probably be a bit show-off-ish and taunt the buildings around me. “Hey houses, I bet you don't have a point like mine!”

What’s that they say? “Hey Churchie, if you’re so awesome how come nobody lives in you?”

“Aah…”

My latest flying cape allows me to move around town only centimetres from the ground.

I probably need to adjust the flight height, because these cuts and bruises on my face and hands are increasing in number and level of pain.

Nighttime. Quiet time. The city breathes gently—it has a bit of a snore. No matter.

Nobody. I ride around and chat with the façades and pavements, the lampposts and most of the trees—some trees are too ingrained in their grumpiness to talk.

Anyway the point I’m making is if you ever feel the need to talk with your city, do it sometime after midnight.

What did one bridge say to the other bridge?

“I still can’t get over it. Get it? I can’t get over it! Hahahaha!”

What did the other bridge say to the first bridge?

“So you still on that medication?”

Everything is illuminated; lights everywhere, all night long. It’s pretty, I take the photograph, and a jolly voice inside my head asks: “Are we really so afraid of the dark?”

I wouldn't mind the occasional No Light Night…

I recently discovered that every brick, window and stretch of road in the city has a story to tell.

City lights are cool but they’re not your friends. And they can never be trusted. Nothing personal, that’s just the way they glow.

The flower stalls are quiet and still. But looks can be deceptive: behind the blank and shuttered façades, heated conversations take place. Who sold the most flowers? And… Why should bunches be worth the same number of points as a bouquet?

The flower stalls are quiet and still. But looks can be deceptive: behind the blank and shuttered façades, heated conversations take place. Who sold the most flowers? And… Why should bunches be worth the same number of points as a bouquet?

This gang of bicycles has just returned from a secret midnight dash around the city. If only a photograph could capture sound… Then you too could listen to the puffing panting metal and tyres and bicycle chains.

Amara the flying lantern would have stopped to say hello and chat about how the night was going. But she’d been called out on an emergency: somebody, somewhere was in desperate need of light.

Find your light and follow it. There’s no better way to get to the place you need to go.