The Amsterdam bicycle scene

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The only time I’ve been across the pond was a trip to Amsterdam. Among other things that left one hell of am impression on me, aside from the great art, beer and drugs, was the bicycles.

Everywhere you looked, there were people on bicycles.

It was utterly fantastic.

This is one man’s impressions, and photographs, of Amsterdam’s cycling culture. I think it made quite an impression on him as well.

I stopped in Amsterdam, Netherlands on my way back from a 2006_europe_motorcycle_trip. During a 73 minute period on 9/12/06 at one corner of Nieuw Markt (a nice open square in Amsterdam), I took the following 82 pictures of bicycles. Why? Because sitting there I noticed how remarkably different the whole Amsterdam bicycle scene was from my home, and at the same time certain very clear “Amsterdam Bicycle Trends” appeared I thought might be interesting to point out. I am from the San Francisco area, California, USA.

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About big jonny

The man, the legend. The guy who started it all back in the Year of Our Lord Beer, 2000, with a couple of pages worth of idiotic ranting hardcoded on some random porn site that would host anything you uploaded, a book called HTML for Dummies (which was completely appropriate), a bad attitude (which hasn’t much changed), and a Dell desktop running Win95 with 64 mgs of ram and a six gig hard drive. Those were the days. Then he went to law school. Go figure. Flagstaff, Arizona, USA

2 Replies to “The Amsterdam bicycle scene”

  1. Up here in Portland people are going apeshit over amsterdam bikes. A store just opened up selling Bakfiets (the one with the front basket) and those beater ones that everybody has. If you ask me its about damn time.

  2. That reminds me of riding the bike w/ my Dad. When he left active duty Marines and decided to go to Law School at LSU (w/ 4 children, find a law student trying to do that today). Needles to say we weren’t rich. He would throw me on the book rack on the back of his bike and we would ride about 3 miles to LSU where he would drop me off at preschool and then go onto his own classes or one of his many odd jobs. Those were the days, hanging onto my Dad and not a worry in the world.