After enjoying an obligatory canal tour this morning, I rented a bike. I cruised around with no problem until I turned a quick corner and ran head on into a woman with two plastic tubs of clothing on the front of her bike. Neither one of us was hurt, but her plastic tubs fell open on the ground and the clips on the strap of my bag broke. She was incredibly friendly about it and after I apologized and helped her gather her things, she headed on her way. There was a group of four older men near me, all unshaven and a bit dirty looking, sitting on a bench smoking. As I tried to fix the clips on my bag, one of them offered to help, telling me that he was very strong and could easily put them back together. I was a little bit hesitant to hand my bag over to four homeless looking men, but they assured me they wouldn't take anything. I watched as they all pressed the metal clips into the wooden park bench, demonstrating their alleged strength. Indeed, they repaired my bag for me and sent me on my way, wishing me well in Amsterdam and advising me to be careful when turning corners on my bike.
I abandoned the streets for the less dangerous park from yesterday which I circled six times. It was therapeutic.
my junky tourist bike
beware
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