Holland-Our Cities-Ourselves

THE NETHERLANDS

Our Cities, Ourselves

The canal-lined city of Amsterdam typifies “gezellig,” a Dutch word that’s hard to translate but generally means “cozy,” “convivial,” or “relaxed.”

These days, however, the city, despite the pandemic, is more gezellig than usual, residents say. That’s because tourists aren’t the ones enjoying it.

That’s especially true in Wallen, the so-called red-light district, where prostitution and marijuana are sold freely and where litter and urine on the streets are the usual order of the day. Instead, locals, who usually have to navigate around intoxicated tourists, are savoring their neighborhood.

“It’s just lovely,” Charlotte Schenk, who lives in Wallen, which dates back to medieval times and is a UNESCO world heritage site, told the Washington Post. “I’ve lived here five years and I’m now getting to know neighbors I didn’t know I had. Now, when the sun is out, people take a chair and sit out front. It’s so gezellig.”

“It’s like the city is ours again,” she added, echoing a common refrain among locals who feel they come second to tourists when it comes to city planning.

Those sentiments are echoed around tourist hotspots across Europe.

Last weekend in Paris’ Montmartre district, Parisians filled the park on the hill that houses the famed Basilique du Sacré-Coeur, listening to music played by street performers, sipping wine, and enjoying the now peaceful neighborhood – usually overrun by tourists.

The locals were out in force, chatting to shop owners, neighbors, walking their pups.

“Amélie was the worst thing that ever happened to us,” said Catherine, who has lived in the neighborhood for 45 years, referring to the hit 2001 film set in the district that dramatically increased visitors.

Now, the question is, when and how will this respite for Amsterdam, Paris, Berlin and Venice residents end? Amsterdam, the Venice of the North, is a test case for reopening European tourism after the coronavirus pandemic. Many are hoping cities take the opportunity to rethink how they manage the sector.

In Amsterdam, that effort is underway. Geerte Udo, chief executive of the city’s marketing department told DutchNews.nl that the city will aim to build a new industry that is socially, economically and ecologically “sustainable,” forgoing the budget tourism that destroys neighborhoods and promotes low-income employment.

“Amsterdam has always been an open and international city, and we would love to welcome visitors as soon as possible,” she said. “But the right visitors.”

That’s the future. At present, officials aren’t welcoming newcomers. Non-essential travel is banned until June 15. “The Dutch government is discouraging travel of any kind and calling on everyone to stay at home as much as possible,” said a press release, repeating that phrase four times.

Dutch officials were serious about abiding by lockdown restrictions. Rather than flout the rules, Prime Minister Mark Rutte, for example, didn’t visit his mother as she lay dying in a nursing home, Agence France-Presse wrote.

Europe, which accounts for 50 percent of the global tourism market, is opening up, however, reported CNN. The European Union and national leaders are working on plans to reopen borders and institute guidance for hoteliers, restaurateurs, tour operators and others. Doing so is crucial to reinvigorating the continent’s flagging economy.

But Amsterdam Mayor Femke Halsema is worried. Amsterdam has lost 90 percent of its hotel bookings, according to the Guardian. Halsema recently warned that hoteliers must be “extremely cautious,” however, because the city lacks sufficient space to keep up social distancing among its 800,000 residents and the 9 million overnight visitors who typically stay in the city at the height of the tourist season. She warned of a second COVID-19 outbreak triggering a second lockdown that might be more devastating than the current one.

Folks in the tourism business are understandably anxious. The situation won’t last forever. That doesn’t make it any less bearable, though, for the industry and those who work in it.

Even so, some are happy for the brief respite.

“The cause of this crisis is very sad, but for us it’s a blessing in disguise,” Aart Jaeger, 74, who lives on the canals near the Anne Frank House, another major landmark, told the Washington Post. “Tourism here has become too much. We are sick of it.”