Outcall, and the room the two of you hold on shore

Every booking on this site runs in one direction. The two of you stay in the room you have a key to, and a therapist makes her own way there. Nothing is asked of you beyond an address, a floor and a room number, which matters more on a cruise trip than on most trips, because the evenings that bracket a sailing are the evenings when neither of you wants to be crossing a strange city with a case half repacked.

There is no address on this side

The house keeps no rooms of its own anywhere in Amsterdam. No studio, no apartment held for the purpose, nothing a visitor could be sent to. That is a decision rather than an omission. A couple with a boarding time in the morning has one place they genuinely want to be at eleven at night, and it is the room their luggage is already standing in.

The ship is outside the arrangement

A vessel decides for itself who may come up the gangway and keeps its own list of everyone who does. The house has no standing in that and asks for none, so a booking is taken for a room on land and for nowhere else. The guide on why the session happens at your hotel works through what that means for a couple whose cabin is two hundred metres from the door they would rather be knocking on.

Two clocks, one city

Inside central Amsterdam the figure is forty to sixty minutes from the moment an hour is confirmed until she is at your door, and that figure does not move for a room near the water or a room near a park. A room at a Schiphol airport hotel on a fly-in day is arranged separately, with the length of her journey settled with you in writing before the hour is fixed. No address beyond Amsterdam and those airport hotels is served.

What outcall asks of the two of you

An exact address, written out rather than approximated. A phone left face up. A word about the entrance if the lift wants a keycard after ten. That is the whole of it, and the booking page sets out the order the messages run in.