Stockpiling Weed, Kids Taking Over And A Stolen Van Gogh: Life Under Lockdown In Amsterdam

At 6pm on Sunday, March 15, Dutch health minister Bruno Bruins
BCO
announced a partial lockdown of Dutch society, shuttering restaurants, bars, schools and other public spaces—including, of course, the famed coffeeshops. Within an hour, queues of stoners had begun to snake around Amsterdam’s corners, putting paid to the notion that stoners were disengaged from the news. At times like this, we’re all paying attention. Fortunately—for the stoners at least—takeaway sales have begun from the coffeeshops, fuelled by the fear that illegal dealers would step in to fill a gap opened by the closure of legal vendors.

Before Corona, as the virus is universally known in the Netherlands, the majority of Amsterdam’s huge number of expat creatives would have struggled to pick Prime Minister Mark Rutte out from a lineup, let alone identify who held the health brief in the Cabinet. Now we all know. 

Just a few days after the lockdown, Bruins passed out in parliament during a speech from far-right politician Geert Wilders. Many used to Wilders’ lengthy diatribes could empathize. The health minister resigned the next day, citing the exhaustion of dealing with the coronavirus crisis. Again, we all knew how he felt. 

The Netherlands is tackling coronavirus in a manner that seems halfway between the UK and the rest of Europe. When making a televised national address—the first by a Dutch Prime Minister since the oil crisis of the 1970s—Mark Rutte managed to blur that line, using advice consistent with that issued in Germany and Belgium, before dropping the phrase “herd immunity”, leading many to think that the nation was actually adopting that as a strategy. He later clarified his position, but the damage had been done. 

When given vague advice, people didn’t initially take it that seriously. Beaches filled with people on an unusually sunny weekend, prompting mayors to protest against visitors ignoring social distancing rules. It seemed the level of fear was high enough to spark panic buying but not enough to dissuade a trip to the beach. We had the same toilet roll, pasta and eggs rush as everywhere else—though Prime Minister Rutte was quick to calm the nation’s worries when asked while doing his shopping in The Hague. “Niet Hamsteren” was the message, introducing the world to the hilarious Dutch word for “hoarding” and its even funnier Dutch Sign Language equivalent.

At times, it seemed like Amsterdam’s weather was actively taunting the population. In a city that has been 8 degrees celsius and raining almost every day since October, there has barely been a drop since isolation measures came in on March 15. 

The initial reaction to schools closing was the sudden imposition of a paedocracy. The good weather, combined with parents’ need to work from home, led to kids taking over. In my neighborhood, the affluent Rivierenbuurt in Amsterdam-Zuid, social distancing appeared not to apply if you were under the age of 16, and a new fad for scooters saw children zipping around the streets enjoying the sunshine.

As a result of people’s failure to take the isolation seriously, a mass text was sent out by the government reminding people of their obligations. Measures were tightened further, with the current situation projected to last until June 1 at the earliest. King’s Day, the national holiday, will be cancelled, which will surely lead to mass job losses in the miniature flag and orange face paint industries (not to mention losses for Heineken).

Daily life in Amsterdam now includes enforced trolley use at the supermarket—after disinfection on entry—and one shopper at a time, though both of these seem to be entirely flexible depending on which supermarket you prefer. There are lines of 1.5m-apart shoppers outside of the Albert Heijn on the Rijnstraat, but none at the Turkish supermarket over the road. Further along at the Albert Cuypstraat street market, social distancing is a distant concept. 

The Museumplein is empty, prompting thieves to get their culture fix by robbing a priceless Van Gogh from the Singer Laren collection outside of Amsterdam. In a city that complains constantly about the number of tourists, it seems surreal to have hardly any visitors at all. The constant stream of bikes has almost stopped, as people stay at home.

That said, the Vondelpark was worryingly full last Sunday afternoon, and Amsterdam’s obsession with fitness (this is one of the few places in the developed world where obesity levels are falling) has seen one-on-one personal training take over green space. A huge sign now stands outside the Sarphatipark, reminding people that 1.5m still means 1.5m, even in the park, even when you’re wearing boxing gloves to hit your PT’s mitts.

The new restrictions mean that we are now in what my colleague Joshua Cohen called “lockdown light”. Not as tight as France or Italy, but still very tight. 99% of Dutch people say that they are respecting social distancing measures, but the daily case figures continue to grow. The Netherlands is experiencing a highly uneven growth: in Noord-Brabant, close to the Belgian border, the number of cases per resident is triple that of Amsterdam.

The “intelligent lockdown”, as the government calls it, is taking effect, with Dutch figures better than the U.K., where similar rules were implemented at the same time. In terms of case numbers, the Netherlands is coping far better than their neighbors over the water: numbers were equal two weeks ago, but Britain’s are now much higher than ours here.

With temperatures of 20 degrees and higher expected this weekend, it remains to be seen how people will respond. For all our awful climate, people love to be outside. I expect the Amstel river to be filled with boats this Sunday afternoon—hopefully 1.5m apart.