Monday 5 September 2016

Biking in the Netherlands

Hired from Starbikes, 2013


I wasn’t sure until the day I left whether I was going to hire a bike again or use public transport. In the event I went for the bike and didn’t regret it for a moment. Oh, such freedom. A bike in Dutch is a fiet. Amsterdam and as far as I can tell most of of the Netherlands has bike lanes usually separated from road traffic. Unfortunately, mopeds are allowed to use them too. 

In December 2013 I went to the Amsterdam tango festival TangoMagia, as it happened the last such festival. I enjoyed the experience of the Netherlands - the gay couple I stayed with, the surprise of the straightforward Dutch, the cycling culture, seeing an old friend and his family, the people I met; all this as much or more than most of the dancing itself, with a few exceptions.  I learnt from local Dutch travelling in for one or two events and over time from other locals, visitors and expats that the Amsterdam milonga scene is considered very “closed". Looking back, I probably had as many good dances then as I would expect to now.  I hired a bike to get around. I guessed then from road signs that a bromfiet must be a scooter - which to my mind interprets as a bike that goes brrm brrrm. I wondered if that was a girl or a boy thought process. 

When smaller, my younger son lay in the kitchen and pushed cars along the floor or alphabet letters across the fridge making boy-like engine or exploding noises. He also loved - and destroyed - my lipsticks so much that eventually Santa brought him one of his own.  I rather like the third gender idea or if not so explicitly that, at least the fluidity and greater freedom from social norms, the individuality it permits, accepts and celebrates. 

Why, anyway, are mopeds allowed on bike lanes? It seems to defeat the purpose of a civilized idea.  At that time an expat in Amsterdam had told me: 

The tolerance of bromfiets in the "bike" lanes shook me to my core when I moved to Amsterdam. How could an otherwise rational and efficient society think it a good idea to allow vehicles four times the weight and three times the speed travel in the same space as defenseless cyclists, who are at the core of the current Dutch national identity? How could they put mothers and babies on bicycles at risk like this?  My negativity increased when I was almost killed in a high speed collision with a bromfiets in Beatrixpark. I ended up flipping 270 degrees over my handlebars and landing on my back, sans helmet, with my front tire destroyed.

That’s the other thing, the Dutch don’t wear helmets. Only tourists wear helmets. I don’t know exactly why this is. I have heard a slew of tales recently about people, some of whom I know and the latest only on Friday, who were saved from brain damage or death in cycling accidents because they were wearing a helmet. I wear one now - usually - because I cycle on roads and my kids need me, but no-one I remember who grew up in the seventies did and  I have never become used to it.

Cycling with the Dutch is a liberating experience. Even so, on this most recent trip before pulling onto the cycle lane I remember thinking: You just have to go for it. If you have sufficient personal conviction to be able to walk into an unknown milonga alone you can probably join a Dutch cycle lane.  In both it's probably a good idea to keep your wits about you and your emotions in check. I watched a cyclist turn right  with conviction on a red light and wondered if it was another Dutch person with their own interpretation of the rules.  Then I remembered cars can do this in California too. Yes, you can, a blonde woman I asked replied. Thank you! I said, pushing off. Just watch for the pedestrians! she called, laughing, as I headed for the pedestrian crossing just around the corner. 

I have biked off and on all my life but Dutch everyday cyclists grow up with A to B type cycling as opposed to British style recreational weekend biking which, outside a few well-known biking towns can seem dominated by men and boys and MTBs or the much-caricatured middle-aged men in lycra, goggles and funny shoes. Many Dutch cycle routinely and so are fit and cycle fast.  I grew up with this kind of cycling in Germany, though the population in rural Lower Saxony around 1980 was admittedly less skewed toward the young and hip. Women rode bikes with dress guards.  In Amsterdam ordinary people bike as fast as serious central London commuter cyclists.  Fifteen or so years ago, for about five years, I used to be one of those clocking up many miles a day in and around London. Being female, riding a heavy sit-up-and-beg Dutch or German style bike, avoiding most main roads and wearing my ordinary clothes, not high-vis jacket and gelled shorts I was not a typical London cyclist. I have cycled off and on since then, but nothing like as much and in Amsterdam felt out of practice. 

The reason biking in Amsterdam can feel a little risky is because some rules feel more like guidelines and it all happens at speed. You are not supposed to go down a one way street, but people do. You are not supposed to bike down pedestrianised streets, but some do and sometimes the police fine them. Pedestrians are not supposed to walk on, or worse, step out suddenly onto bike lanes, but some do, especially when drunk or in tourist season. It seemed to me there are lots of close shaves at intersections - people make snap judgements involving pedestrians and, especially, other fast-moving bike users.  Things generally seem to work out OK though remembering my correspondent it can be serious when they don't.


In 2013 I had hired a bike from StarBikes behind the station, near the IJ (water). The owner, who might have been a Dutch-speaking Australian, was friendly and easygoing. Best of all they had plenty of bikes for people my height. You might be able to get (but should probably ask for in advance) bikes with a large plastic crate on the back. Many Dutch bikes have these. It would be inordinately useful for a bag, dance shoes and clothes you take to change into at the venue, especially if you are out and about beforehand. 


This time I hired a bike from Discount Bike Rental which also had good reviews and was a bit nearer my accommodation.  More particularly it was in the centre which I had seen next to nothing of on my last trip. In the cold and darkness of winter 2013, dance-focused, I had been like a moth drawn to light. The decision of whether to wander round cold streets or go dancing had not been hard.

This time I emailed the shop beforehand to see if they had a bike, a good plan in holiday time said the owner. You choose between back pedal or handlebar brakes. I am used to and prefer back pedal. Besides, it leaves your hands free to hold your phone to navigate google maps (I am not recommending this!) and also to use your bell. No one is worried or embarrassed about using a bell in the Netherlands.  In egalitarian Scotland where even a whiff of perceived uppitness can give serious offence, using a bell can feel presumptuous but I doubt the Dutch care about such sensibilities.  I am not  sure  the Dutch get embarrassed about anything.  They are just very pragmatic. How liberating that must be.

I went to get the bike on Friday evening as soon as I had checked in to my accommodation. Cost was 8 euros/day plus one euro optional insurance. StarBikes I see on their website today charge one euro more for 24 hour rental. Upon enquiry they said insurance is not included but 2,50 extra per day.

Some places e.g. Macbikes by the station, rent bikes branded as tourist bikes. If you get a non-tourist branded bike make sure it has a distinctive label or tie something on to it so you can recognise it when you come to hunt for your bike among scores of others later. I was haunted by the thought I might accidentally lock my bike to someone elses. Always do lock your bike, not just with the built-in back wheel lock.  The bike might seem big and too heavy to wheel away on the front wheel when locked on the back wheel but my mother's German bike (with dress guard!) was stolen in York because I had only used the back wheel lock and in Amsterdam professional gangs operate.  So use the heavy duty chain that most bikes have wrapped around the saddle post when not in use. Although crime in general is apparently low, bike theft is rife in the Netherlands.

If you want to take your bike on the train, bike supplement is 6 Euros/day (not per journey) but if you get a folding bike (and fold it aboard) it goes free. In July and August there aren’t any restrictions about when bikes can go on trains. More info about bikes and trains here.

I am sure they do in the suburbs but I saw no children riding bikes in central Amsterdam. I saw a dog standing up in a crate on one bike, on another one toddler on the front and one on the back of their father’s bike (they had helmets). Slightly outside the centre I saw children sitting in bakfiets, box or cargo bikes but that was all. I am not surprised; between the tourists, the bromfiets, the numbers of people cycling and the speeds the centre is perhaps just a bit too crazy for children.  Besides, the street I cycled down to get to the centre, Haarlemmerdijk, becoming Haarlemmerstraat reeked, not unpleasantly, of weed.  Still, I felt like a child myself when, marvellously, the road where cyclists had halted upon warning alarms, rose vertically right in front of me to let a boat through.

On this trip I only had the bike for 36 hours but it had taken me across Amsterdam twice, to Leiden, to Amersfoort and back to Amsterdam. I had chatted to lots of people and felt relaxed and free. I felt absurdly attached, not to the bike itself but to the feeling of getting around so easily by bike. I had to give it up on Sunday lunchtime because the hire shop would be closed by the time I got back from Rotterdam but it felt like a wrench. I found out today Starbikes will allow you to drop off the bike and key after hours when you leave them your credit card details.  I have a notion I did this with them before, but unless you write it down, you forget!

I saw plenty of Dutch cyclists without lights at night. In Rotterdam I commented on this to a Dutch guy I had met at a milonga the day before.  Like me he was going back to his town by train and we went to the station together.  Oh yes, he said You can get fined. I was, last month, 50 or 60 euros. He said one day the police decide it’s bike light checking day and they clean up.  Despite this incident, his lights were tiny.  Though we were cycling late at night they still weren’t on.  How come you have such wee lights? I asked.  The police gave them to me, he said. Do they give them to everyone? I asked. Yes, that is a very Dutch thing, he said. They fine you but also set you right.  I was getting nervous. We were sharing his bike, with no lights, going down a one way system the wrong way.  I was in the saddle.  Though several years older than me, smaller and very lithe he was standing up behind like the circus artist I could believe he might be in a slightly different life. The following week I saw a photo of him doing a secure-looking handstand. I was very glad my husband couldn’t see me. Sometimes, you act just like a teenager, he had said more than once usually wryly but somewhere between annoyance, despair and frustration.  I could quite see he has a point. Besides, the police would have a field day with us. Who actually gets the fine in these circumstances? I said.  Oh, you, said the local, lightly.  I decided, all told, it was time to grow up and walk.

Friday 2 September 2016

Amsterdam: Getting there




I decided to go to Amsterdam to dance, for no other reason than it wasn’t far, the guys are tall and they have a cycling culture. Then I discovered fly.be had, earlier this year, started a direct flight from Dundee to Amsterdam. You can already travel to Stansted from Dundee. Dundee airport is only 25 minutes drive from where I live. My mum, to whom people just want to tell useful information, learnt that future plans are for the airline to extend connections to Paris and to one of the Channel islands. I booked a flight for about six weeks ahead, mid August. In my mind, mid August is when children in Scotland go back to school (why?). In school-holiday focus I somehow managed to ignore the fact that for the rest of Europe it is prime holiday season.

The children and I had packed a lot in to the holidays with two trips to Manchester and a lot of day trips and picnics. As a result I left it until two weeks before departure to book accommodation. I have never found this task so difficult. 

For convenience and safety I did not want to be far from the night time milongas to get back to my accommodation. A lot of my friends stay in hostels which makes travelling easy and very much cheaper. If I didn’t mind the sheer publicness of hostels, never mind the noise, I might too, but I do and I generally like and need sizeable chunks of time by myself. So I looked at Airbnb as I often find private homes closer to the milongas than hotels. Ordinarily I might often get a room for £40-60. Now it was more like £70-80+ and really at the top end of that - for rooms that were not en-suite. Trickier still was trying to get somewhere suitably located for public transport back from the late-ending milongas. 

The Friday milonga looked fairly central but the Sunday milonga, La Bruja, was further out near an area I had biked through en route to one of the TangoMagia venues, two or three years previously. I’d been told not all the area was that great. Although cycling is a great option in Amsterdam, I haven’t found a place that will let you drop off the bike late on a Sunday night and I would be away before opening time on the Monday. If I was going to have to wait for public transport in that area I wanted it to be easy. 

I looked at hotels too, but they were all £100+/night and not central either. Hopping then between Google maps, Airbnb and booking.com I began to get frustrated. My first choice of Airbnb host (a new host) didn’t respond, the second said the place wasn’t available. Finally I found a place but parts of the Airbnb site seemed to be down or glitchy. Eventually my son pointed at a place about as central as I was likely to get in west Amsterdam. It had its own bathroom and looked nice. Once the airbnb fees were added on it was still an eye-watering £100/night with no breakfast. Then my hairdresser told me about her package holiday to Turkey for two thirds of that and I thought what a fool I was.

By now I felt relieved to have found somewhere but fatalistic about the trip. I thought I’d booked too late, at the wrong time and the dance experience of Berlin and of Stuttgart loomed over me. With extraordinary lack of self-knowledge I decided to think of it as a tourism trip rather than a dance trip. 

Forget perfume at the airport or picking up last minute things in Boots.  Dundee airport is dinky. There are a handful of short-stay car park spaces. It felt wonderfully anachronistic that you can still park in these for free for the first half hour. There is a wee cafe with a cold drinks cabinet, some sandwiches and a bookshelf providing a free book exchange. I liked it. On the other hand, luggage was checked draconically for size. Not that it seemed the staff had any commission-fuelled zeal to charge extra but the flight was full (both ways it turned out) and any oversized luggage would have to go in the hold. Had I checked my hand-luggage for size? I mumbled something about never having had an issue and miraculously got through. I set off the security alarm repeatedly and while I was thoroughly frisked the chatty security lady kept up a cheerful patter in much the way that some professionals rattle off distracting chat when you’re about to undergo something unpleasant. It was a friendly place but with only one security scanner, you want to be either first or last in the queue. It felt very...local.