5~At Home in Holland

Schipol Airport. An airport I know quite well now. I visited Fee De Hoog two years ago and will never forget my time with her here. Captured not only within her photography skills but also completely by my heart. The biking is where it is at. Quite simply it is the most liberating form of transport I have ever experienced. I cannot imagine it comparing to a luxury yacht or private jet. Biking here feels like the flying; sailing through the streets, weaving in and out, passing traffic and trams, covering the city with ease, circling Vondel Park. Free as birds and I lucky to flow and fall into the slipstream of acclimatized cyclists- just had to follow Fee. These Dutchies are born on bikes it would seem.

Fee had expressed annoyance when she had met me from the airport, that first time I came to the Dam. She was irritated to have to use her ‘walking legs’ as we had to collect her second bike in a different location so we would then both be on wheels. Having two bikes is completely commonplace for someone living in Amsterdam and around. I began to understand. If you could soar on a Dutch bike or trudge on your walking legs, which would you prefer?

Looking back on the photos that Fee shot on this happy trip, something really resonates. It was a feeling, a shift that had happened within me. A freeing sensation, a yellow brick road appearing and developing in front of me. Changing can be difficult, especially when you are pretty happy and have a good deal, but I knew there was something in my life that needed to change. Letting go can be a long process. I was shedding, had begun to leave old baggage behind. At a lovely surprise leaving party I had back in January, it struck me that Amsterdam had been part of the trigger and process. Beautiful Jess had made a very lovely placemat for each guest at this surprise meal. On it were pictures of me from childhood to present; centrally placed, Jess (pulling the picture from FB archives) had put a photo that Fee had taken during that first Holland trip.

I recognized two things: I was wearing exactly the same dress and exactly the same face as that photo taken years previous. Now the same dress 2 years later, some might say that perhaps it is time to go shopping but friends would know that I am certainly not in need of any more frocks. But the expression- happy and open, a readiness and hope. Jess must have seen that too.

That special trip, finding my Dutch cycling legs, had propelled me further on my path and was captured in picture by Fee that May half term.

Months later, after that trip, I met Eve in Koh Phi Phi. “You will come and see me in Amsterdam?” Yes, I would. I know it, I feel it. A year later: two weekend visits, a five week trip in Asia and now the full month of March in  Amsterdam with Eve. And yes, in answer to the questions asked, Eve has a month leave from her work. So a home from home holiday for her, a staycation. We can explore her city together. But only with a bike each- as much as croggy-ing is the norm here, I think a month of this would kill our thighs.

Cue: mission. On my arrival, poor Eve was in the possession of just one bike. Her other bike had been seized for being incorrectly positioned at the station. Authorities are apparently strict in these areas, so even experienced cyclist Eve fell foul to these rules. We had hope we could retrieve the cycle. There is a place where all the taken bicycles are…

A tram, bus journey, walking legs in full swing, we headed out of the city and into the industrial outskirts. Presuming we must be lost, we decided to walk that bit further just to make sure and were quite amazed to see before us a sea, a whole ocean of seized bicycles before us. Rows and rows. Look! We both spotted a little girl’s bike which stood out in all its pink glory, streamers, training wheels, basket, the lot! That seems terrible; we imagined the little girl returning with her ice cream to find her bike gone and how upset she would have been. Well, for Eve this was very similar. More expletives though, less tears.

Fingers crossed, her bike would be here. Reporting to the office, I observed as Eve gave details of when her bike was taken and what her bike was like (her ability to switch between perfect English and then Dutch always amazes me), the lady stuck a post-it with a few scribbles on it near a door.

A man, in red overalls, appeared from the door, took the note and Eve and I followed him as he zoned into one area. Like a Dutch Santa Claus of seized bicycles he found it for us. The bikes here are just the ones seized from the last 3 months. If they are not in good nick, they get destroyed. If they are decent that get sold or re-homed. So one bike accumulated, I croggied Eve to the station and we took her baby home! Collected her other bike and we were set. We flew on our bikes, first sorting a month membership out at Delight Yoga for myself and secondly we went for a well-deserved lunch (at the very place Eve first took me when I visited). The sun began to shine and my cycling legs back in play, I began to feel, once again, at home in Holland.