After arriving in Rotterdam, exhausted from an early morning flight (5am start) and an unexpectedly broken-down train that forced me to switch to an Uber—there was only one place I could think of: JAFFA in Rotterdam.

It had been at least 35 years since I’d last been there, back when I was vacationing and working in Holland as a young lad and teenager! Walking through the doors again after all that time felt surreal. What made it even more special? Knowing it was halal. Some things are just meant to be. I had the JAFFA Beef Shawarma - It was delicious and just as it was with the exact same flavour 35 years ago, just WOW!

No trip to Rotterdam is complete without a plate of traditional Dutch Poffertjes, those warm, fluffy little pancakes dusted with powdered sugar. The next stop had to be SETH.

Day two of my trip started with something special—I turned 48! After a relaxed and tasty breakfast at the Bilderberg Park Hotel (which is super close to the city center), I headed out to explore. The streets were just starting to wake up, shops slowly opening around 10 a.m., and there was that familiar energy in the air that I love. It was the perfect mix of calm and anticipation—the kind of vibe that solo travel gives you, especially in a place that means a lot to you.

My first stop was the Feyenoord Store. I was hoping to score a good deal or maybe find something new. I’d had my eye on a water bottle, but it turned out to be for kids. The green jerseys were on clearance, but unfortunately only in 2XL and up—not even close to my size. I wasn’t in the mood to buy just to buy. I already had enough Feyenoord gear at home, so I moved on and headed toward the Blaak area.

That’s when I started thinking maybe I’d go for a Dutch national team jersey instead. I found a sports store and climbed a steep staircase to the men’s section. A friendly staff member helped me out, and they actually had the jersey I wanted. But then I saw the price tag—€100. That was way more than I’d budgeted for. I already had some custom Nike Oranje gear at home anyway, so I passed and carefully made my way back down the stairs and back out into the fresh air.

Not long after, I got hit with the smell of fresh stroopwafels—warm, gooey, made right there with real Gouda caramel. It was amazing. But I’d eaten less than an hour ago, and I wanted to pace myself a bit on my birthday, so I resisted.

Then I reached Poffertjes Salon Seth, and that’s where I caved. Just a regular portion of poffertjes—those soft, buttery little pancakes—and they were incredible. I scraped off most of the powdered sugar, but let’s be real: they were still sweet and perfect.

From there, I strolled over to the Rotterdam Markthal. If you’ve been, you know it’s a food paradise—and kind of impossible to walk through without getting something. So I treated myself to my first Patat Bram Ladage of the year. Those fries… golden, crispy on the outside, fluffy inside, with that rich creamy mayo on top. I sat on a bench just outside in the sun, holding my little paper zakje of fries, feeling really content.

Honestly, it was one of those moments that just felt full-circle—sitting there in the city that shaped me so much growing up, on my birthday, eating the food I love.

I had also planned to check if the old Dutch army surplus store was still around—but sadly, it was gone. A bit of a letdown, but I kept moving. On my way back toward De Bijenkorf, I remembered I needed a pair of swim trunks for something coming up next week.

After a quick wander through a couple of escalator rides, I ended up back in the basement. I had to ask where the men’s swimwear was, and sure enough, I found it. They had a solid selection, and I picked out a sleek, black-and-gold pair of BOSS trunks—modest, reasonably priced, and exactly what I needed. I paid, stepped back outside, and was hit by the growing buzz of the city. Things were really picking up.

Checking my watch, I realized I was just shy of 12,000 steps—and figured that totally justified a second lunch. On my walk back toward the hotel, I noticed a cozy-looking spot called SIJF. That name instantly caught my attention—it had a piece of my own name in it: YU-SIJF. That was all the sign I needed.

I grabbed a seat and ordered a perfectly toasted tuna melt—the kind of sandwich that just hits right. Every bite felt like a warm hug. I followed it up with a slice of classic Dutch appeltaart with whipped cream. It was everything you’d want it to be: warm, spiced, and comforting in the best way.

As I sat there, recharging and taking it all in, I felt that quiet moment of reflection. Something was coming… I could feel it. And this lunch? It felt like the calm before the next chapter.