The other day, I wrote about the "beer bikes" that have just been banned in Amsterdam. They were essentially pedal-powered rolling bars that could accomodate a dozen or so revelers. City residents got tired of having to contend with drunks weaving in and out of bicycle, pedestrian and motorized traffic on the narrow streets in the city's center.
Maybe there wouldn't have been a problem if the "beer bikes" were like this:
The other day, I managed to sneak out for a mid-afternoon ride between classes and conferences with students. It wasn't a long ride, and it didn't take me far from the college where I teach. But it did, as rides often do, reveal some interesting and unexpected sights.
In both the "interesting" and "unexpected" categories was this:
One almost never sees a sign like that anymore in the New York Metro area. For that matter, one rarely sees the kind of store that's attached to it, at least in this area.
It's at the intersection of East Tremont and Park Avenues in the Bronx. Yes, the Park Avenue you've all heard of--the one of Zsa Zsa Gabor--extends into the Bronx, hard by the Metro North (formerly New York Central) railroad tracks!
You wouldn't expect to find a store like this on Zsa Zsa's Park. But in this part of the Bronx reside folks not unlike some of my relatives, including two blue-collar uncles of mine who lived in Brooklyn and went up to the Catskills and sometimes even the Adirondacks to hunt around this time every year. Their ethnic origins may be different, but their lives and desires are, I believe, similar: They need to live in an urban area and to get out of it every now and again.
That is why, even though I've never had any desire to hunt, and have fished only a couple of times, I understand those who love those sports. Of course, there are very practical reasons to allow hunting: Deer and other animals that are pursued by hunters no longer have natural predators, so hunters help to keep their population in check. If they didn't, even more animals would starve and freeze to death during the winter. Also, although I'm not too keen on guns (and support restrictions on access to them) I am not afraid of hunters and other sportsmen, such as competitive shooters, who use them.
Anyway, the proprietor of the store caught a glimpse of me photographing his signs. I think he knew that I don't hunt or fish and, barring the collapse of civilization, probably never will. Still, he was polite and was pleased when I complimented his signs. "You just don't see these anymore," I said. He nodded.
The sales clerk gave me their business card. I told them I'll be back: I did see a jacket I really like. And they have hiking boots as well as equipment for all sorts of other sports--but not cycling!
Within the past week, I've read articles in The Atlantic and Vanity Fair about Tim Piazza, a Beta Theta Pi pledge at Penn State University. Those articles confirmed what I have long suspected: Even though the legal drinking age is 21 almost everywhere in the US, and even though national fraternity organizations (and, often, college and university administrations) claim that "hazing" is not allowed and that fraternity recruitment programs are "alcohol free", the booze flows freely and pledges are often treated terribly.
I can only imagine what would happen if those frats operated in Amsterdam--and, more specifically, had access to something that's been part of its landscape for some time.
I'm talking about the "beer bikes", so beloved by stag parties and other (mostly male) groups who do all manner of things in the Dutch capital (and in other places) they would never do at home.
The "bike" is really more like a cart with pedals. Whatever one calls it, it's essentially a rolling bar, or at least a rolling beer garden. Not surprisingly, users of the beer bikes, almost all of whom are tourists, often become rowdy and, to put it politely, have difficulty navigating those vehicles.
So it's also not a surprise that they have become almost as despised by residents of the city as they are beloved by revelers. Last year, then-mayor Eberhard van der Laan, who died last month, heard the collective cries of "Genoeg is genoeg!" (All right, that's a Google translation.) and instituted a ban on the beer bikes.
That ban was challenged by beer bike operators and struck down. However, the other day, the Amsterdam District Court agreed with the ruling. It took effect the other day.
It's been a long time since I've been in Amsterdam and, I admit, when I was there, I was probably was in an even more altered state of consciousness than most patrons of the beer bikes. Still, I remember the narrow streets that run alongside, and are punctuated by, the canals. As I recall, navigating some of those streets is difficult even for sober cyclists, pedestrians and drivers. And if I had to get up and go to work every day in "The Venice of the North," I probably wouldn't be too happy about losing sleep to, and weaving around, loud drunks. So, I think I can understand and sympathise with those who wanted the ban.
Now, whether it will curb some of the "undesirable" tourism some city leaders and other residents lament, I don't know.
