Amsterdam: The Land of the Killer Bicycles - LL
We made it out alive! Truth be told, there were some close calls as we joined other tourists in a never ending game of human 'Frogger.'
It's enough to avoid the automobiles, cablecar trains, buses and taxis to cross streets throughout Europe, but Amsterdam raises the bar as all of those other types of wheels added together are far outnumbered by the number of whizzing bicycles, mopeds, motorcycles and scooters also vying for space.
To add to the confusion, there is a bike lane that is actually a sidewalk. It runs alongside the regular sidewalk, but sometimes they join together, and sometimes one is on the right and one is on the left and sometimes that switches, sometimes the bike path is paved and the pedestrian sidewalk isn't, other times it's the opposite. So, add in tourists strolling along looking at maps and storefronts, taking pictures, and you know...just being touristy 🙄 and you can imagine the chaos.
There are often islands in the middle of the road. A place to pause for a quick celebration for making it safely halfway across and a brief opportunity to make strategic plans for navigating the remainder of your crossing.
The constant bell ringing of irate bicyclists informing pedestrians they are in their lane can be heard. Sometimes the bell ringing gets louder...and louder...and louder, at which point you realize that bell is for you. You are the one standing obliviously in death's path.
One memory we will surely cherish is the time I selflessly attempted to save Kristi's life from kamikaze bikers by pulling her to safety when she was standing helplessly in the bike path. It was a close call. The bicyclists were coming in hot. Except for the fact that I was the one in the bike path, not her. We came close to meeting our maker together that day. (The morale of this story is: it is the thought that counts.)
The bicycles in Amsterdam are every shape and size, as are the riders. And they move FAST. Without helmets. It's crazy town, but I never saw a wreck. The closest to a wipeout I witnessed were those that I was involved with personally. Clearly these riders are used to dodging clueless tourists. They don't even tap their brakes, they just ring their bells and watch us scramble.
The stores all sell bicycle bells, in fact. At the Vincent Van Gogh Museum, for example, they sell sunflower bells in the gift shop. These are not the little tiny bicycle bells you remember fondly from your childhood. These are gigantic bells that mean business.
The flow of bicycles is constant - from early in the morning to well after dark. Some bicycles have lights, some don't. We saw people riding bikes while talking on their phones, eating, chatting with their riding neighbor, loaded down with full grocery bags, hauling children, carrying freshly baked bread, drinking coffee. You name it. This training clearly begins young.
We loved Amsterdam, though. The enchanting canals and house boats. All the quaint shops...the chocolate...the baked goods! The Anne Frank House and the fabulous museums. The tall, skinny buildings with external pulley systems rigged to the rooftops to lift deliveries up to the higher floors. It was all very fascinating.
Like elsewhere in Europe there were lots of smokers everywhere. We noticed many of the cigarettes smelled funny - hmmmm. We were never fully convinced that 'whacky tobaccy' and high speed bicycling around traffic cone tourists is the best idea, but as I said before, I never saw a wreck so they've got it figured out.
Vaarwel, Amsterdam!!