Amsterdam: August 2012
A warm Wednesday afternoon outside the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam. A queue of kids from a Jewish school sat cross-legged and chorused hauntingly in Hebrew as dusk fell and Angelus bells bonged from a nearby steeple. We waited in the eerie half light for admittance to the attic where dreams lived and died. Like all the others we solemnly shook our heads and vowed, never again.