Baby Steps
When you take old friends on their first cycling adventure, it’s easy to forget just how much there is to learn. Even the bikes feel unfamiliar—loaded down with gear, they’re definitely not as nimble as what most people are used to riding back home. After reassembling everything, there’s always a round of cockpit adjustments in those first few days as everyone gets used to the setup.
That’s one of the reasons we chose the Netherlands: it’s the most cycle-friendly country in the world, with outstanding infrastructure and flat terrain. A perfect place to begin a first bike tour. We also warned our friends: the first few days are going to be uncomfortable. And by day four, they’ll want to quit and go home. Happens every time. I feel it too—every single tour—and Grace always reminds me: just get to day five. Because by then, without fail, you won’t want to be doing anything else but riding your bike. With that in mind, we’re keeping the first few days short and easy, with plenty of breaks and time for tweaks.Planned Route
Actual Route
Remember the Big-Ass Avocado
This morning, as we packed up and got ready to roll out of the hotel in Amsterdam, we realized my helmet was missing. We looked everywhere. We know it made it back with us yesterday after the ride out to the airport and back. But now? Gone. Vanished. Even the hotel clerk joined the search. Nothing.
So, I did what any Dutch local would do—I headed out without a helmet. For about two blocks. Then I made a beeline to the nearest bike shop.
Don’t these people know the Big-Ass Avocado story? You always wear a helmet! Always!
Ada Bicycles didn’t have many options, but I found one that fit. It’s definitely heavier than my Specialized helmet, but hey—it’s protection. And maybe I’ll walk away from this ride with neck muscles like an Alaskan wrestler.
Saint Bavo's
The Grote Kerk, or Grote of Sint-Bavokerk, dominates Haarlem’s main square with its soaring Gothic spire and weathered stone. Construction began in the late 14th century and continued into the 16th, replacing an earlier Romanesque church. The current church is a masterpiece of Brabantine Gothic architecture, with a striking wooden barrel-vaulted ceiling, stone choir screen, and beautiful light filtering through high clerestory windows.
Although it was originally a Catholic cathedral, it became Protestant during the Reformation. The stripped-down interior still carries the grandeur of its Catholic roots, but with a more austere, Northern European feel.
Stützenbeißer!
In the Saint Bavo’s (Grote Kerk) in Haarlem, the wooden choir stalls are lined with intricate carvings—saints, monks, vines, symbols. But if you look closely at the far ends, you’ll spot something unexpected: pillar biters. These comic figures were a medieval way of poking fun at hypocrisy or drawing attention to sin, often tucked in the margins.
Müller Organ at St. Bavo’s
The church’s most famous feature is the Müller organ, built between 1735 and 1738 by Christian Müller. At the time, it was the largest organ in the world, with:
- 68 registers
- 5,068 pipes (some over 10 meters tall)
- A richly decorated Baroque façade with gilded carvings and sculptures
It’s legendary not just for its size, but for its remarkable sound quality. Some of the greatest composers and musicians have played it, including:
- Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, at age 10
- George Frideric Handel
- Felix Mendelssohn
The organ is still in use today, with regular concerts. Someone was rehearsing while we were there, and we sat quietly, just listening. Then, out of nowhere, a professional singer—unrelated to the rehearsal—walked in and began singing. She started with a bit of opera, shifted into Amazing Grace, and ended on Hallelujah. It’s always a treat to hear sound that can fill the expanse of a cathedral—whether it’s pipes or the human voice.
Bridge #... wait, did we already cross this one?
As we crossed a white bridge near Koningstraat, I couldn’t help thinking of the Seven Bridges of Königsberg problem—Euler’s classic puzzle about whether it was possible to cross each bridge in the old Prussian city exactly once without retracing your steps. That 18th-century curiosity laid the groundwork for graph theory, and eventually, modern network analysis. Walking through the town, I could almost see the old mathematician himself, optimizing routes through canals and bridges. It felt like navigating a real-world network—just with better scenery and pastries.
Bridge #... wait, did we already cross this one?
