Waffles, Cycling and Canals
This Autumn I visited Amsterdam, the 'cyclist's dream'. The picturesque city is famous for its cycling culture, with hundreds of designated cycle lanes separate from the main roads of traffic. After falling out with cycling a bit over the last year I though a few days in this cycling bubble could be nurturing and perhaps even inspiring.
We board the eurostar at London St Pancras and begin our mini city break. A pit stop at Brussels, long enough for a taster of a Belgium beer, we felt in the holiday mood. Though this quickly curtailed as our connection to Amsterdam was delayed due to trespassing so we had to disembark at the airport and find our own way into the city. Another hour later, a very late night dinner of tapas and a VERY wet walk in a down pour we make it to our accomodation around 11pm (Sorry Wilma). Fingers crossed the return journey goes a bit more smoothly.
Working in cycling infrastructure for nearly a decade I was looking forward to taking a 'bus woman's holiday' to pour over the red paved cycling paths, stand and watch cyclists dance around each other at complex junctions and stare in amazement at all of the different types of cycles and their owners - which didn't disappoint. One particular cyclist zipped past us carrying what looked like a small fridge resting on her handle bars, another had a flat pack shelf (?) loosely binded to a pannier rack.
Cycling starts from the very young, it seems, as we by accidently cycled through the school drop-off on the last morning. From cargo bikes carrying a gaggle of little ones, children on the front, on the back, to the side of their parents or on their own wheels at arms length, it was interesting and eye opening to notice the collection. 'Why couldn't I have grown up in Amsterdam?' I had wondered when I first heard about the city. Instead I rocked stabilisers and bright patterned leggings for a few too many years.
I've heard my friends and family, paticularly 'non-cyclists' remind me how different cycling is in Amsterdam, the sheer number of the bikes, the speed they go at and 'watch you don't get knocked over by one'. Yeah yeah, sure. I've cycled loads in the UK, I think I can manage...
Borrowing traditional Dutch bikes (where you pedal backwards to brake) from our host we had the opportunity to try and 'fit in' and cycle round the city to see its gems. If fitting in meant staring down at my feet as they slowly went round on the pedals, not noticing that I'd entered a bike lane with a lady cycling quickly towards me, ringing her bell, shouting lots of dutch and not preparing to stop or slow down, (we nearly full on collided). I can, and do cycle quite a lot, honestly. I'll do better this time, eyes ahead Emily, and not on my feet.
Despite a few navigational errors, and almost falling off our bikes in surprise at the number of 'non-bikes' on the path - scooters, mopeds, motorbikes and even mini cars (Yes actual cars) - A good few (and slightly stressful) hours later we manage to make it to Zaanse Schans, a beautiful cluster of old traditional windmills about 20km north of Amsterdam. 'on those bikes?!' our host exclaims later on. Yes, on those bikes... The sounds of chankles and rubbing metal, not to mention the unforgiving seats. As the sun was setting we thought we better head back. So back along the red cycle paths, the clusters of little bike lights flickering up ahead and behind we followed the stream of bikes and other wheeled things back into the centre and onto the ferry.
After nearly 5 hours sitting on a rickity machine our pint from a local Amsterdam brewery felt much rewarded, and almost settled the nerves of the ride.
Bikes aside we DID have a relaxing chill time in this beautiful city. Due to being slightly obsessed with cold water swimming we decided to search a place out before getting to Amsterdam. Buitenzwembad Marineterrein is a cornered off bit of the marina round the back of the National Maritime Museum. I say it was private but as we began stepping down the steps for our first cold dip I looked up to see a gaggle of tourists pearing down from the nearby docked 'VOC ship', part of the museum. Still, the cool water quickly focused us on the task in hand as we flapped around like little ducks. Here's a goofy picture of me with the old ship behind.
This swimming spot became a morning routine for us in our short stay, made particularly easier after discovering a sauna situated next to the harbour so we could now enjoy multiple cool dips and quickly warm up afterwards. What a gem. We truly felt like a 'local'. "I wonder if we can find anywhere similar when we get home?" we pondered as we sat in the cosy hot pine room with a window overlooking the twinkly lights of the city reflecting on the harbour and the dark sky slowly getting brighter as the morning arose (though knowing the Peak District is literally the furthest you can be from any coast in the UK).
Yes, we did do a few touristy things, including a canal cruise and tasting all of the sweet treats - waffals, pancakes and stroopwaffels. What can I say, the swimming and cycling built up an appetite...
A particularly favourite tourist spot was the Van Gogh Museum. Three floors of well curated history and original artworks, not just Van Gogh but his inspirational artists too. It really inspired me to draw more but also notice and learn from other artists too and try out new things. A note to take home. A favourite piece was a white blossom tree on a turquoise background, a piece painted by van gogh especially for his first nephew, son of his brother who was a big part of his life. It brought a feeling of hope, and brightness.
After our final cool dip and hot sauna (at 6:30am as that was the only booking available!!) on our last day we enjoyed our final plate of fluffy pancakes and boarded the eurostar back to London. Thankfully my wish was granted and the journey was non eventful. We just enjoyed the ride and pictured all of the fish and water life swimming above us as we went through the English Channel.
I did appreciate the cycling culture in Amsterdam but it surprisingly made me appreciate cycling back at home. A lot of it is familiarity and I know we also have a long way to go but even though something works elsewhere it doesn't mean it will work in the UK.
Below is a little doodle I drew on the way home as a reminder of our trip:
