I went to Amsterdam last month. Outside of the typical Amsterdam touristy things one of my highlights was people watching.
I love people watching. It makes the time fly by and it is particularly fun in a foreign city.
After a cup of cappuccino and a fairly questionable cake, we sat on a little bench outside of a café watching people walk and ride past on their bicycles. It was a narrow cobbly street and there were many times where I thought a cyclist was going to crash into me.
Cycling on roads in the UK is something I wouldn’t say is the norm because majority of car drivers frown upon it. The roads aren’t built for safe cycling and I am always terrified to overtake a cyclist who isn’t wearing a helmet.
Amsterdam, on the other hand, is a city made for bikes. I was pretty impressed by designated road lanes and pavements and it was fascinating seeing a flock of cyclists — of different shapes, sizes, genders, ages, colours — weaving through tourists in the city centre. They all looked very cool even without a helmet.
Outside of the café I made a — what I thought was ground-breaking — observation: each and every cyclist that sped past us was completely and utterly different. We could not predict who was going to come next, the colour of their hair, gender, whether they wore glasses or not. I felt like I was in a Wes Anderson film.
Shoutouts to particular cyclists include:
The man wearing a beige coat and red scarf who nearly knocked over a Spanish boy. The cyclist looked like he was late to teach a class at Hogwarts.
A very well-dressed lady wearing huge gold earrings whilst riding a bike!! I can barely move my head when wearing earrings half the size of them.
Grey-haired lady who took a risk by wearing an all-white outfit during a very rainy day in Amsterdam.
After the café we moved to another location and got some chips which we decided to stand outside to eat.
It is impossible not to admire the city’s narrow and wonky architecture. We stood in front of a gothic gate which I was obsessed with. It was decorated with skulls and I could just picture a haunting boarding school behind those gates in the 1930s. I was very intrigued indeed.
I took my opportunity to find out more when a Spanish tour group came and stood around us. Rather than talking about the gate the tour guide pointed out the smallest building in Amsterdam which was directly opposite us.
I was too busy making theories about what was behind the gate to notice the tiny building next to it. I thought it was hilarious that we were stood snacking in the prime picture location of a notable building.
Googling the house allowed me to discover more about the gate which leads to a Protestant church building where Mr Vincent Van Gogh himself frequently visited.
Interestingly, in October 1755, a French baker's assistant shot the vicar during service for ending his love affair with a wealthy merchant's daughter. The vicar survived with a severe head injury, and the incident left bullet holes in the pulpit and adjacent pillar, which were concealed in a 1990 restoration.
Discovering that story make the skull decorations feel even more eerie.
That was just 2 hours out of 5 days in Amsterdam. I’ll leave you with some pretty pictures from the rest of my trip below 🤘🏽
How wonderful! This was great to read and had me smiling throughout. Can’t wait to read more of your travel accounts 🤩