Getting on my bike

They say you can’t claim to have lived in The Netherlands until you’ve used sprinkles as a sandwich filler and, of course, become inseparable from your bike.

Now the sprinkles thing is strange – when I saw my colleagues putting chocolate hundreds and thousands on bread I was a little bemused. Nonetheless trying such a delicacy was not particularly daunting, getting a bike however…

Every day on my way to work I cross the busiest street in Amsterdam and on the way typically bumping into about 5 bikes. And despite this everyone I have met in Amsterdam has told me I must, I simply must, get a bike.

Before I came in Amsterdam the idea of getting a bike was wonderful – it was going to be blue and have daises on it, I was going to have a basket and riding around empty canals, in the sun, would naturally be effortless. Then I arrived. I have never seen cycling like in this city – people ride with suitcases, double basses and about 5 children – suddenly my romantic prospect seemed somewhat impossible.

90% of the city apparently ride a bike. 

So I put off the inevitable and waited 3 weeks to finally purchase a bike. And I did this begrudgingly and only because everyone pestered about how much I needed one. And they were right; I needed a bike because the metros closed early and the city never stops, because I couldn’t live in Amsterdam and not ride a bike and because I think there is nothing healthier than doing the things that scare you. And my gosh did riding a bike scare me.

So maybe it sounds juvenile, but, it should be known that I haven’t cycled for 10 years – ever since the loss of my wonderful red bike I refused to ride another! For some crazy reason I thought the best place to start again was in a city of absolute pros.

As people here happily pay more for their bike locks than their bikes, I gladly paid the 35 euros for a rusty bike with no basket but handle brakes (it’s all about compromise) – it’s not beautiful, but it’s got character. 

My Stallion on Wheels? 

You know that famous saying – you never forget how to ride a bike – yeah, well it’s a lie.

Luckily I have a wonderful friend who has many talents – she’s my chef, manicurist, hairdresser, Spanish and Italian teacher and most importantly, my bike tutor. So when it got dark (to hide my cycling shame), we went out. Luckily I live in a student campus; in the middle of the complex is a big courtyard with few cars, perfect for practising, apparently. Suddenly I felt like I’d regressed; I had someone holding onto the back of my bike supporting me and promising me that they wouldn’t let go despite us both knowing that they invariably would – except I wasn’t 10 again and I had forgotten how to cycle… I was forced to go around and around the complex for hours but it was slowly getting easier.

The following day I was forced to cycle ON THE ROAD to go get ice cream with some friends – this was a surprised outing and I was not prepared, but I have to concede that it was actually okay – maybe even enjoyable…

Whilst in Amsterdam I am aware that I am constantly learning, but riding the bike has been a big change for me. It’s made me feel, paradoxically, more secure in the city because despite being a wobbly mess when I ride it does feel like I am making a commitment to my life in Amsterdam. I have no doubt this silly bike riding journey is going to be a long one, but, I am also certain that there is no way I can avoid it in a city like this.

Florence