This is what all Amsterdammers do

Friends without children sometimes complain about the fact that everyone pours an evangelistic shower over them when it comes to children. There follows a plea for having children and an indictment about the fact that they do not have them or, even worse, do not want to. And then we have to, against their plan, tell what they do not like about having children and what they do like about not having children, and suddenly an awkward situation arises.

I do have children so this doesn't happen to me, but I don't live in Amsterdam. And all my Amsterdam friends find that very strange. Well, they understand it quite well (because houses in Haarlem are simply cheaper and more spacious), but they refuse to believe that I actually find Haarlem (I almost dare not say it now because it looks so black on white) more enjoyable. So when I talk about moving, they think it means moving to Amsterdam. Come here, come here. And I get it: Amsterdam is amazing. How wonderful is it when you pick up your baguette at Le Fournil and your cheese at L’Amuse and cycle past the Conservatorium Hotel on your way to your child's ballet class. You live in the heart of the country. But there is more than Amsterdam. In Haarlem, I cycle to the beach, I see the sea at least four times a week and have four forests and dunes to choose from to walk with the dog. You can make the most beautiful bike rides here (not that I do that, but it can be done, it can) and if you lose your keys in the park in Haarlem, someone brings them to the town hall and hangs them on a bulletin board. Try doing that in the capital.

So I always feel a bit uncomfortable with the come-back-to-Amsterdam comment. It is a compliment because they would like it if we moved back to the area, but at the same time, I feel like a defector who has found a greater love. And maybe a bit provincial too, but I couldn't care less.