Travel: Amsterdam

It's not all about the coffee shops: This city is the outdoor fan's dream

With 3.7 million visitors annually, Amsterdam is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Europe. Famed for its relaxed drug laws and thriving sex trade, tourists are commonly drawn to its smoke-filled coffee shops and profligate red light district to indulge inconsequentially in all things taboo.

As I am both a non-smoker and, perhaps rather old-fashionably, regard exchanging money for sex as a bit of a romance killer, I wasn’t all that keen on going when asked to accompany an old university friend there for a long weekend. However, some further research laid my apprehensions to rest. I discovered that the Netherlands’ largest city has much more to offer than sex, drugs and Edam cheese. Smelly hostel-dwelling backpackers, who think that smoking hash is the high point of the city’s cultural life, are giving way to a new breed of tourist – adventure seekers from across the globe descending upon Amsterdam are cycling, climbing and boating their way around the city for a new kind of high.

We booked a return flight for £49 for the weekend on an economy airline flying straight into Schiphol airport, keen to escape the grim realities of the nine-to-five slog - if only for a weekend.

Stepping off the tram with our backpacks in tow, we made our way on foot uptown to the Flying Pig youth hostel near Leidseplein, a 17th century square made up of hotels, cafes, cinemas and street entertainers. After having dodged the early morning stream of uncompromising cyclists, we checked into the hostel and deposited our bags. We were welcomed at reception by a wholesome Dutch lady, who informed us that ‘Mikesbiketours’ (or ‘Mikesh-bike-torsh’ as she put it) was the best way to acquaint ourselves with the city on the first day. Kerkstraat, the tour's meeting point, was a mere two-minute walk from the hostel.

City Bike Tour  

Having paid the guide and equipped ourselves with bright red bicycles, we joined a 10-strong tour group on a gentle ride, zigzagging through Amsterdam’s charming streets and rich history, which starts with the city’s founding in 1275 and ends in the present day. In just under four hours we had covered around 25 miles, most of which was spent riding along the Amstel River beyond the edge of the town, passing by quirky houseboats, rowing clubs, windmills and jovial fishermen. We even stopped at a cheese farm/clog factory hosted by an eccentric farmer. Here, aside from sampling cheese and trying on wooden shoes, we were invited to indulge in a spot of cow tipping – anything really does go in this country, and our dignity and clean clothes were no exceptions. Both my friend and I fell rear-first into a mixture of rainwater and manure after an unsuccessful tip. Karma had clearly sided with the livestock.

Coming back into town we rode dirty-bummed through the golden brown-coloured city parks of Beatrix and Vondel, largely inhabited by bohemian types and students, and bade farewell to the bikes and the tour group.

Wetlands Safari 

Saturday morning we awoke bleary-eyed and hungry for more adventure. We headed to Amsterdam’s central bus terminal to meet our new guide, Majel. “Follow me,” she urged, leading us onto a bus and off at a stop called the Watergang minutes later. From a culvert under the highway, next to a roadside café, ran a rivulet. This was a narrow entrance to the wide world of Amsterdam’s ancient wetlands. From a shed behind the café, with Amazon-like strength, Majel heaved a canoe into the water, hopped in gracefully and, using an oar, steadied the vessel expertly.

We clambered in clumsily behind her feeling slightly unsure what to expect beyond the chicane that lay ahead. With Majel paddling in front we set off between narrow banks and had to stoop to pass through the low tunnel of a bridge. Emerging at the other end it looked as though we’d paddled back in time. The passage widened as we floated in the thoroughfare of a 17th century village. Cows grazed on either side of the canal; flowerbeds decorated the waters' edge; a redbrick schoolhouse spewed the chorus of singing children, and a bird called from a small island cemetery. This truly was a Rembrandt painting come to life.

Breaking the silence, Majel explained that in the past 100 years, the Netherlands has managed to increase its landmass by 15%; meaning that the wetlands and the marshes, where we were headed, were in danger of disappearing at the hands of developers. A worrying prospect, I thought – one I might not have cared so much about had I never experienced it for myself. Windmills turned lethargically in the distance as we moored the canoe on an isolated riverbank overlooking the marshland. Old Birch trees sheltered us from the light rain as we ate our sandwiches and listened to Majel describe how things used to be when the canals and waterways were congested with trading ships and barges transporting cattle. I considered the noise of such a scene and felt fortunate in our isolation, and was sorry when the time came to leave.

We spent the afternoon visiting the Anne Frank Museum, the Van Gogh Museum and the red light district. It was, I thought, strange to be staring at centuries-old life paintings one hour, only to be looking at real-life half-naked young ladies the next. Only in Amsterdam.

Rock Climbing

Our last day was spent rock climbing. One does not generally associate the flat, sprawling landscape of Holland with this sport. Nevertheless, in recent years the Dutch have overcome this geographic handicap by taking the sport indoors. Although not unique to Holland, indoor climbing centres such as the Klimhal are sprouting up all over the city. The centre is 21 meters high, has a climbing surface of more than 2,300 square meters complete with friendly professional climbers on hand to help novices. School children, students and even old men dotted the callused walls. Whole families gathered at the bottom of the fibreglass boulders, strapped to harnesses, discussing the best possible routes. For nine Euros we were able to climb all day and, although being an experienced climber, after a few hours my usual vice-like grip began to wane and I knew it was time to leave.

The flight home was a chance to reflect upon my brief stay in this culturally diverse city. It was reassuring to see the emergence of an adventure culture that looks to be finally freeing liberal Amsterdam of its reputation as a hippies-only haven. The rose-tinted time warp of free love and free drugs is slowly yielding to a new age of bungee jumping, pot-holing and sky-diving; all of which are on my lengthy to-do list for my return trip that can’t come soon enough.

For more information on bicycle tours in Amsterdam:
www.mikesbiketoursamsterdam.com
For more information on Waterland Safaris in Amsterdam:
www.wetlandssafari.nl/index2.htm
For more information on climbing in Amsterdam:
www.klimhalamsterdam.nl