Episode summary:

This is the first of a new, occasional City Nature Walks series, highlighting the wonder of nature in urban environments. 

I walked through beautiful Westerpark in north Amsterdam on an unseasonably cold early summer day. The land is made up of lush, half-flooded meadow, narrow canals and the odd brick home. The woods are full of poplar, ash, lime and beech trees plus some hawthorn and elder bushes, while down on the meadow are graceful weeping willows. 

If you’re wondering ‘where can I find natural beauty in the city of Amsterdam’, ‘what are some hidden gems in Amsterdam’, or ‘what are some of the best places to see nature in Amsterdam’, this episode might be able to help.

Listen to a podcast about taking a city nature walk through Amsterdam.

Transcript – S5 E1: City Nature Walk – Amsterdam

This week we’re braving an unseasonal cold snap in the rather wonderful Netherlands. This is the first of an occasional series on City Nature Walks.

It’s freezing here in Amsterdam. It shouldn’t be. It’s early May and apparently two weeks ago the temperature was in the mid-20s Celsius and the Dutch were cycling with abandon in shorts and t-shirts, euphoric that summer had come at last.

This afternoon they have retrieved their fleeces and scarves from the wardrobe to brave a high temperature of barely 12C, less with windchill. I’ve experienced milder days here in winter.

Loving the Netherlands

But… I am not complaining because I am in one of my favourite countries on the planet. I love The Netherlands. I love its bucolic landscapes, polders, tulip fields and canals. I love Dutch art, food… the slightly listing, multi-storey canal-side terrace houses… and I’m pretty fond of the people too. In fact, I’m not sure I have met a Dutch man or woman that I didn’t like.

Its history is fascinating as well, especially its quite remarkable engineering projects that have protected this flat land from the North Sea and turned potential geographical disaster into profit. 

There’s so much to celebrate here that I have decided to make an annual pilgrimage to experience and learn more, in all corners of the nation.

One thing I am woefully weak on is knowledge of its nature and wildlife but I am getting an unexpected taste of it right now on this brisk afternoon. I’m on my way to meet a friend for dinner and have decided to walk. I am wearing pretty much all the summer clothes I packed in my suitcase and I must resemble the Michelin Man.

Testing my nature knowledge

The route takes me from my rather insalubrious hotel, in its ‘light industrial’ neighbourhood, through Westerpark, an expanse of nature north of the CBD. 

In the northern part of the park I walk along a shared pedestrian and cycle way called Spaarndammerdijk. It’s elevated about 7 metres, or 23 feet, from the surrounding land which is made up of lush, half-flooded meadow, narrow canals and the occasional brick home. 

The path is lined with poplar, ash, lime and beech trees plus some hawthorn and elder bushes… and down on the meadow are some graceful weeping willows. 

What captivates me more than the view is the evening chorus of birdsong. I’ve made it a side-project to memorise as many birds’ songs as I can but as I am a bear of little brain I reckon I have managed to retain only about half a dozen.

I put my knowledge to the test: there’s a robin… two, actually. That’s a tune I definitely know. And somewhere in a beech tree is a blackbird. It’s a set of metallic but still melodious notes that for some reason always reminds me of the winter dusks of my childhood in England, where the bird’s slightly urgent trills sounded like it was rounding up family members to get home and get safe.

I hear a chiffchaff too. It’s unmistakeable mainly because it’s onomatopoeic: chiff chaff, chiff chaff. I can just make out a wren too, higher pitched like a young soprano singing a soaring descant on top of a hymn in church.

Strolling south through Westerpark

Ok, that’s four, so maybe half a dozen was ambitious. I suppose you could add in the omnipresent crow but I’d still only be at 5. Oh, hang on, I hear a tune I know but always struggle to remember. To me it sounds like a robin and a blackbird singing together. It’s a Blackcap. So, ok, that’s my half dozen but after years of birdwatching I really should be better at this.

There are way more tunes out here today so, I turn to technology and fire up my Merlin bird app. It tells me there’s a high probability I am listening to a linnet and a song thrush. I walk on, heading south now with the Saint Barbara cemetery to my west. I take an underpass under the train tracks and follow the path past the Street Workout Park where a man in his 60s is shadow-boxing. To my left are more water meadows and I see a stock-still grey heron on a canal bank.

My app tells me there is a blue tit nearby. I can barely making out its song but then I hear it; full of the cheerful promise of a spring day. 

The park is now full of the joy of the Amsterdam Birdsong Choral Society. I find that the evening bird chorus in April and May in northern Europe is not usually as euphoric as its dawn equivalent but this evening that theory is certainly being put to the test. 

Amsterdam’s Westerpark is another comforting reminder of the resilience of nature and what can be achieved when people prioritise and nurture it. Just 100 years ago this area would have looked very different, as it was the site of heavy industry. This was the location of the Westergasfabriek gas works. As well as the main gas ring there were coal storage areas, treatment plants, a coke gas plant and an ammonia factory. 

Not surprisingly the area was left seriously contaminated for decades but a determined clean-up effort transformed this industrial wasteland into a tranquil haven for birds, plants, animals… even 60-year-old shadow boxers.