A Stopover in Amsterdam and Haarlem: Bicycles, Canals, and a City of Contrasts
March 2005: As part of a 10-day trip to Jordan, Israel and Syria, and even a short layover to have dinner with my family in my childhood neighborhood in Minneapolis, my friend and I visited Amsterdam and Haarlem on a multi-day stopover. It was a convenient stop-over because it is easy to get around by train, on foot, and by bicycle.
In Haarlem, we rented a bicycle and rode along bike paths near the ocean. In Amsterdam, we took a canal boat cruise and visited the Anne Frank Museum, which tells the story of a young Jewish girl whose diary became one of the most well-known accounts of life under Nazi persecution. The museum is located in the house where Anne and her family were hidden by their neighbors before being discovered, captured, and ultimately sent to an extermination camp, where she perished.
We also explored Amsterdam’s marijuana cafes out of curiosity, though it isn’t my thing, so I didn’t partake. Lastly, we visited the famous Red Light District, where sex workers sit in small booths, displaying themselves in windows to attract business—a sight that was both surreal and shocking. Amsterdam, for the most part, felt gritty yet fascinating, as it was one of the first cities to openly embrace vices that remain taboo in much of the world.
Amsterdam
Amsterdam in the Snow: A Rare and Icy Experience
During my time in Amsterdam, the city was in the grip of an unusual cold snap—freezing temperatures and a blanket of snow covered the ground, something I quickly learned is an extremely rare sight. The canals, usually bustling with boats, took on a serene, almost storybook-like quality under the frosty conditions.
Yet, despite the icy streets, Amsterdam’s cycling culture remained unwavering. Locals navigated the slick roads on their bikes with the same effortless confidence as if it were a warm summer day. It’s one of the most bicycle-friendly big cities I’ve ever visited, and no amount of snow or cold could deter the Dutch from pedaling through their daily routines. The resilience of Amsterdam’s cyclists was just as impressive as the city itself.
Canal in Amsterdam
The Gritty Charm of Amsterdam
Amsterdam isn’t a city that tries to impress you with pristine, boutique-style buildings or a carefully curated facade. Instead, it embraces its raw, unfiltered energy—a mix of historic beauty and unapologetic grittiness. Graffiti-covered walls add character to its narrow streets, while the Red Light District pulses with an air of eccentricity, home to open prostitution and sex shows that feel more like a spectacle than a secret. The unmistakable scent of marijuana drifts from bustling cafés, and after dark, throngs of rowdy British hooligans flood the streets in search of cheap thrills.
And yet, despite the chaos, Amsterdam never feels out of control. Beneath its rough edges, the city is remarkably civilized, relatively clean, and safe. The Dutch identity is woven into every canal, every cobbled street, and every cozy brown café. It’s a city that doesn’t try to be something it’s not—and that’s exactly what makes it so compelling.
Me with a random wooden statue of an alien looking man
Because so many people were urinating in public out in the open in the canals, these street urinals were set up to provide a shred of privacy and sanitation.
One of the canals with snow covering the cars and sidewalks
One of the streets calk full of marijuana cafes, legal in Amsterdam long before they were anywhere else
A Hard Lesson in Luck and Vigilance: The Day We Almost Lost Everything in Amsterdam
Of all the things that happened in Amsterdam, one experience stands out as a lesson I’ll never forget. My friend and I, not wanting to haul our heavy backpacks around all day—or risk being mugged—decided to store them in a secure luggage locker at the train station. These lockers were simple: pay, set a combination, lock the door, and go about your day. It seemed like a foolproof plan.
After a full day of exploring, we returned to the station, ready to grab our bags and move on. But as soon as we stepped into the luggage room, my stomach dropped. Our locker was wide open. Our backpacks—along with all our money, passports, and everything we needed for the rest of our trip—were gone.
It was a moment of pure shock. Syria, Jordan, everything we had planned—it was all slipping away in an instant. My mind raced through worst-case scenarios. But instead of panicking, I made a beeline for the customer service window, explaining what had happened.
To my surprise, the employee smiled—yes, smiled—and calmly told me that someone had found our locker open, saw the bags inside, and turned them in. Apparently, when we had left earlier, the door hadn’t fully latched. Our backpacks had been sitting there, vulnerable to anyone, for hours. And yet, by sheer luck, a kind stranger—a rare breed, I imagine—had taken the time to hand them over. Not a single dollar was missing.
That day, I learned two invaluable travel lessons: always quadruple-check that a locker is locked, and never leave anything valuable behind unless absolutely necessary. But more than that, it was a reminder that, even in a chaotic world, good people still exist.