So the bakfiets moving went excellently — three trips piled high with boxes, computer, sewing machine, and 15 kilogram watermelon. It’s a good thing I don’t have a bed, there’s barely space for one in my room any more.

Some observations about the bakfiets: (What is that in English, anyway? Cargo tricycle? Big-bike-with-a-box?)

  • People ask you for directions a lot. Especially, for some reason, in German.
  • A sprung and padded saddle is a luxury beyond belief. And my ordinary bikeseat is really really hard. Funny how I never noticed…
  • Because they’re three-wheeled, you can’t lean into turns. Which is (a) horribly disconcerting, and (b) actually dangerous — when you get back onto your bicycle and realise you’ve forgotten how to stay upright.
  • When planning your moving, keep in mind the following guidelines: (a) Getting up before noon may allow you to keep the hire to a single day (here I can’t speak from experience); (b) However having to cross the Gay Pride parade route will definitely make this unlikely.
  • Drunken people will want you to take them home. (No, not that way, not even during the parade.) Bring along some witty rebuffs, and perhaps a cudgel.

I didn’t get photos. But I ended up with the less-photogenic Gustav model anyway, since they messed up my reservation and gave someone else the big one. So three trips to Bos en Lommer, plus packing time, plus carrying boxes down three flights, all told roughly eight hours. Not the easiest way to move house, but definitely an experience.