My first solo trip , right at the tail end of the pandemic, was an accident. I was a homes writer back then, enthusiastically cornering patient travel editors with my out-of-the-blue pitches as soon as humanly possible after restrictions began to ease. Finally, it happened: my first commission—and to stay at The Dylan , Amsterdam ’s most glamorous canal-side boutique, no less. I grabbed a friend, booked the flights, and started dreaming of days piling pastries onto plates in cafés, ticking off museums, and spending nights skipping in and out of dimly lit canal-side bars. But then: a logistical disaster. With less than a week to go, my friend realized her passport was too close to expiry for travel to the Netherlands . Renewing it at short notice during the Covid backlog was out of the question, as was finding someone else to come with me with just days before the stay.…