I received a panicked SMS from a friend the other day. She was in Amsterdam desperate for a place to stay. I connected her with a strange man with a deep Jamaican accent, in his 60’s and by his own declaration an incredible masseuse. He showed Chiara and I a photo album thick with photos of college kids and the like who had an “Uncle Jimmy” time in Amsterdam. We parted ways when it was clear Chiara and I didn’t need a place to stay. But his number came in handy for this girl Virginia. It’s a strange arrangement, but the guy seemed earnest and had a bookful of happy friends so I hope it works out. I’ll get the scoop when Virginia gets back…