After returning from Amsterdam, most of my friends were asking, “What’s the coolest thing you saw over there?” That’s a hard question to answer; so much was new, exciting, and interesting that it’s difficult to pick one solitary thing that stood out as the “coolest” or best memory.
As I look back, it’s some of the smaller details that stand out as the most memorable. The castles, museums, breweries, and other attractions were interesting but I had seen previews of those online and in books. Small artifacts of everyday life are distinctly different from life at home, and therefore stand out and make a more lasting impression than popular tourist attractions. Many of these details relate to bicycles but some are interesting just in how they contrast my city’s version of “normal.” These details might not make for exciting bar conversation, but they’re interesting nonetheless.
Starting literally from the ground up, there are far fewer markings on the street in Amsterdam than I’m used to at home. Around Portland we have sharrows, bike lanes, flashing lights, reflectors and other varieties of painted, bolted, and cemented instructions. Contrasting with that, Amsterdam’s streets were relatively devoid of arrows, lane lines, or other markings. They can get away with this in many areas because the road is only one lane wide, with cars limited to one-way travel and bicycles and pedestrians allowed to travel in both directions. The most prolific ground markings in Amsterdam are “zebra-striped” pedestrian crosswalks and sets of white triangles which show who has the right of way when entering an intersection.

You do find occasional bicycle symbols on the ground. Some are smaller than the bike lane markings we’re used to in the United States, but bicycles of any size look pretty cool when they’re placed among Amsterdam’s characteristic cobblestones.

Unlike ground markings, there are many more stair ramps in Amsterdam than in Portland. The ramps are in place to allow bicycles to roll easily up and down stairs. These ramps are present just about anywhere there is a flight of stairs. Amsterdam is so flat that you rarely find a set of stairs in public, though. Most streets and paths rise and fall gradually, gently sloping towards the next intersection. In the uncommon situation when you do find yourself outside and stepping up or down, there’s either going to be a stair ramp or the steps will be so long and shallow that you can easily bump your bicycle from step to step.

Even rarer than stairs or ground markings is the sight of a bicycle helmet. Most people on bicycles do not wear a helmet, with the only exception being very young children. Riding a bicycle (and walking and driving) on the streets of Amsterdam is so safe that it doesn’t seem to cross anyone’s mind that they need a helmet. It’s perceived as being about as necessary as putting on a helmet before you play tennis or climb a flight of stairs.
Helmets are of course available if you want to wear one. And most the helmets we did see, on heads on the street or for either sale or rent in shops, were Nutcase Helmets. That’s including at Black Bikes, the bike rental shop just a few doors down from our hotel.

Along with Portland-based headgear, Amsterdam has drinking fountains that are very reminiscent of the Benson Bubblers that inhabit downtown Portland.

While we take a brief detour from bicycle-related topics, it’s worth mentioning that there were some decent breweries in the Netherlands. And while their beer isn’t as amazing as beer from my favorite Oregon breweries, they do have the upper hand when it comes to cool buildings. In Amsterdam I visited a brewery inside a windmill, and on a ride out to Haarlem we stopped at a brewery in an old church.


Like people in Portland, the inhabitants of Amsterdam clearly love their pets. Portland is home to many dog owners and it’s not uncommon to see dogs jogging along side their owners all over the city. In Amsterdam however, the favored pet seemed to be felines. There are some dogs, but plenty more cats, most of which are orange.


Before I get back into the social artifacts directly related to bicycles, I want to also comment on how few signs of poverty there were in Amsterdam. No one was begging for change, we saw no obviously homeless people, and we didn’t see any lines of people waiting for hand-outs. I’m sure there are social issues unique to the area that we didn’t see, but I thought it was interesting that the only “Soupkitchen” I found was actually a moderately swanky restaurant.

But enough rambling; back to bicycles. Just like in Portland, plenty of parents use bicycles to transport their children. It was fun to see all the creative ways people found to fit extra passengers, safely, on their bicycles.

Bicycle parking is something Portland does pretty well. Most of the time you can find a parking space when you need it, and locking up your bike does a pretty decent job of protecting it from theft. It’s about as easy to find parking in Amsterdam, but while parking is hard to find in Portland due to a lack of bike racks, parking in Amsterdam is difficult to find due to the sheer number of bicycles.

Finding space at a bike rack is a game of Tetris with bicycle-shaped pieces. That’s true whether the parking is on the street or in one of the larger parking structures.

In Portland we have hit-and-miss bike parking in residential areas, with smatterings of DIY bike racks and racks at local parks. Many of the neighborhoods in Amsterdam have found ingenious ways of incorporating bicycle parking into the structure of their buildings.

Cargo bikes were something I thought I’d see more of, but some of the only ones I saw parked outside WorkCycles. Thinking about it a little more, that makes some sense. The doors, windows, and stairs of most buildings in Amsterdam are so small that most things that fit inside can easily be carried on a standard bicycle. It’s not like many people are carrying around king-size beds or 82″ televisions.

Another subtle difference I didn’t notice at first was the wear patterns in the road. It’s clear you’re in a city that favors bicycles when, instead of two parallel tracks worn into the pavement by cars, there’s a single line worn down the center of the road from dozens and dozens of passing bicycles.

Most impressive to me was how simply and subtly bicycling fits into everyday life in Amsterdam. It’s not something people do to be hip, it’s not something people do to be fancy, it’s not something people do to be sexy. Bicycling is transportation, plain and simple. Seeing an old, rusty – but functioning – bicycle is far more common than seeing a shiny new one.

At first it looks like, by leaving their bicycles outside to rust, the Dutch don’t value bicycling. Nothing is further from the truth. They’re enthusiastic about bicycling, but the enthusiasm isn’t for the physical bicycle itself; the enthusiasm is for all the benefits that bicycling brings and a rusty bicycle brings the same benefits as a shiny new one. In the end, even with all these small differences, Amsterdam’s people and culture remind me in many ways of Portland. Experiencing Amsterdam first hand really helped show how simple it would be to better integrate bicycles in the daily life of people in Portland, and even in the suburbs, if we just made a few subtle changes.