Author: Andrew

Amsterdam is actively trying to reclaim neighborhoods for locals through a combination of tourist restrictions, housing protections, and targeted policy enforcement. The city has invested heavily in measures that limit short-term rentals, redirect visitor flows away from residential streets, and prioritize the needs of permanent residents over the demands of mass tourism. The results are mixed but real, and the debate is far from settled.

Which Amsterdam neighborhoods are most affected by tourism pressure?

The neighborhoods carrying the heaviest tourism burden are the historic canal ring (Grachtengordel), De Wallen (the red-light district), Jordaan, and the area around Leidseplein and Rembrandtplein. These central districts absorb the vast majority of Amsterdam’s annual visitors, creating a situation where residents are effectively outnumbered on their own streets during peak season.

In De Wallen especially, the density of tourists, short-term rental properties, and commercial activity oriented entirely around visitors has hollowed out the sense of a living neighborhood. Long-term residents have steadily moved out as rents climbed and the character of the area shifted. The Jordaan tells a slightly different story: it remains relatively livable, but rising property values driven partly by its popularity with visitors and expats have made it increasingly inaccessible to the kind of working-class community that historically defined it.

Beyond the center, neighborhoods like De Pijp and Oud-West have felt secondary waves of pressure as tourists spill out from the historic core in search of “authentic” local experiences. The irony, of course, is that the search for authenticity tends to erode it.

What policies is Amsterdam using to push back against overtourism?

Amsterdam has deployed a broad toolkit of policies aimed at making the city more livable for residents. The most significant include a near-total ban on new short-term rentals in the city center, strict enforcement of existing Airbnb regulations, the closure of cannabis shops to tourists, and a ban on cruise ships docking in the historic harbor. The city has also invested in redirecting tourist flows toward less-visited neighborhoods and off-peak seasons.

The short-term rental restrictions deserve particular attention. Amsterdam has progressively tightened the rules around platforms like Airbnb, reducing the number of nights per year a property can be rented and eventually banning short-term rentals entirely in several central districts. The logic is straightforward: every apartment turned into a holiday let is one fewer home for a resident.

On the street level, the city has experimented with closing certain alleyways in De Wallen to through-traffic, limiting the hours of some venues, and restricting the opening of new hotels in the center. The tourist tax has also been raised repeatedly, making Amsterdam one of the more expensive cities to visit in Europe, a deliberate signal as much as a revenue measure.

Are Amsterdam’s neighborhood reclamation policies actually working?

Partially, and unevenly. Some policies have produced measurable results: the reduction in short-term rental listings in the city center is real, and the cruise ship ban has meaningfully reduced certain categories of day-trippers. But the overall volume of tourism to Amsterdam remains enormous, and the structural pressures on housing and public space have not reversed in any dramatic way.

The challenge is that Amsterdam is caught between competing forces. The city’s economy is deeply intertwined with tourism: hospitality, retail, and cultural institutions all depend on visitor spending. Policies that genuinely reclaim neighborhoods for residents also risk damaging livelihoods and reducing the cultural vitality that made the city attractive in the first place.

What the policies have done is slow certain trends and signal a political shift in priorities. Whether that shift translates into neighborhoods that feel genuinely reclaimed for residents rather than merely less overwhelmed by tourists is a harder question to answer. As of 2026, the honest verdict is: progress, but not transformation.

What do Amsterdam locals actually think about these measures?

Opinion among Amsterdam residents is genuinely divided, and that division tends to follow economic and geographic lines. Residents who live in the most affected central neighborhoods are broadly supportive of tougher restrictions and often feel the measures do not go far enough. Those whose livelihoods depend on tourism, or who work in industries that benefit from a vibrant visitor economy, tend to view the policies with more ambivalence.

There is also a generational dimension. Older Amsterdammers who remember the city before mass tourism became the defining feature of daily life often feel a deep sense of loss and welcome any measure that pushes back. Younger residents, many of whom moved to Amsterdam precisely because of its cosmopolitan energy, are sometimes more conflicted: they want a livable city, but they also value the openness and international character that tourism partly sustains.

What almost everyone agrees on is that the housing crisis is the most urgent problem, and that short-term rentals have made it worse. On that specific point, support for strong regulation tends to cut across the usual divides. The disagreement is less about whether to act and more about how far to go, and who should bear the cost.

How Klagen Niet Klagen cuts through the noise on Amsterdam city life

The debate around Amsterdam being reclaimed for residents is exactly the kind of topic that mainstream media handles badly, either too sympathetic to tourism interests, too alarmist, or too shallow to capture the genuine complexity of what it feels like to actually live here. Klagen Niet Klagen exists to fill that gap.

• Long-form essays on Amsterdam city life written from over three decades of lived experience in the city
• Honest, opinionated commentary that names tensions rather than smoothing them over
• An English-language perspective that takes both expats and internationally minded Dutch readers seriously
• A Klagen / Niet Klagen framework that holds the city’s contradictions together without pretending they are easily resolved
• No tourism board influence, no advertorial pressure, just a genuine point of view

If you want commentary on Amsterdam that respects your intelligence and your familiarity with the city, the blog archive is the place to start. And if you want to know more about the person behind it, the about page tells the full story.

Speaking of things worth experiencing in Amsterdam: if you have not been to Boom Chicago yet, fix that. The comedy institution that Andrew Moskos co-founded in 1993 is still going strong, still sharp, and still the best live show in the city. Check the Boom Chicago website for what is on, an evening there is the kind of Amsterdam experience that no tourist guide will ever adequately describe, which is precisely why it keeps selling out.

Yes, there are official canal swimming events in Amsterdam. The most well-known is the Amsterdam City Swim, an annual charity event that takes place each September and draws thousands of participants into the city’s historic waterways. Beyond that, a small number of other organised open-water events occasionally use the canals. Below, the most common questions about swimming in the canals Amsterdam visitors and residents ask are answered directly.

Which official canal swimming events take place in Amsterdam?

The Amsterdam City Swim is the main official canal swimming event in Amsterdam. Held every September, it is a charity swim covering roughly two kilometres through the city’s canals, with proceeds going to ALS research. It regularly attracts several thousand swimmers and has become one of the most recognisable open-water events in the Netherlands.

Outside of the Amsterdam City Swim, a handful of smaller open-water and triathlon events occasionally route participants through or alongside the canals, though these vary from year to year. There is no permanent calendar of regular canal swimming events beyond the September charity swim. If you are planning around a specific event, it is worth checking the Amsterdam City Swim website directly each year, as dates and registration windows shift.

Is it legal to swim in Amsterdam’s canals outside of events?

Swimming in Amsterdam’s canals outside of officially sanctioned events is technically not permitted. The municipality does not designate the inner-city canals as public swimming areas, and doing so carries practical and safety risks that make the prohibition sensible rather than arbitrary.

That said, enforcement is inconsistent, and on hot summer days you will see people jumping in near the Amstel or along quieter stretches of water. The city has historically tolerated this to a degree, but it has also stepped up water safety messaging in recent years as canal swimming has grown in popularity. The bottom line: outside of an organised event, you are swimming at your own risk in more ways than one.

Are Amsterdam’s canals actually safe to swim in?

Amsterdam’s canals are significantly cleaner than they were several decades ago, but they are not consistently safe for recreational swimming. Water quality varies by location and season, and the canals carry real hazards, including boat traffic, poor visibility, cold temperatures, and unpredictable currents near locks and sluices.

The city has invested in improving water quality since the 1990s, and monitoring data shows measurable progress. However, after heavy rainfall the canal water can become contaminated by overflow from the sewer system, making conditions genuinely unhealthy. Organised events like the Amsterdam City Swim time their routes and dates carefully, with water quality tested in advance. That is one of the reasons these events exist in a structured form rather than as a free-for-all. If you are considering swimming outside of an event, the Amstel and some outer waterways tend to have better water quality than the densely connected inner-city canal ring.

How do you sign up for the Amsterdam City Swim?

Registration for the Amsterdam City Swim opens online through the event’s official website, typically several months before the September swim date. Spots fill quickly, so signing up early in the year is strongly advised. Participants choose a distance, pay a registration fee, and commit to raising a minimum amount for ALS research.

The process is straightforward:

1. Visit the official Amsterdam City Swim website and find the registration page for the current year.
2. Select your preferred distance and starting wave.
3. Complete your personal details and pay the entry fee.
4. Set up your fundraising page and begin collecting donations toward your minimum target.
5. Receive your swimmer pack and event-day instructions closer to September.

No elite swimming ability is required. The event is open to recreational swimmers, and many participants complete it in wetsuits. The atmosphere is festive rather than competitive, which is part of what makes it one of Amsterdam’s more charming annual traditions.

How Klagen Niet Klagen covers Amsterdam’s water and outdoor life

Questions like these sit exactly in the space Klagen Niet Klagen was built for: the gap between what the tourism brochures tell you and what actually happens in this city. Whether the canals are worth jumping into, which events are genuinely worth your time, and which Amsterdam traditions are as good as advertised versus quietly overrated, this blog covers it honestly. Here is what you get:

• Insider perspective on Amsterdam city life from someone who has lived and worked here for over thirty years
• Honest takes on what is worth doing in Amsterdam and what is mostly hype
• Long-form essays and commentary that go beyond the surface level
• A consistent editorial voice free from tourism board influence or advertorial pressure

If this kind of honest Amsterdam commentary is what you are looking for, find out more about the blog or browse more articles to see what else gets covered.

And if you want to experience Amsterdam’s creative energy in person rather than just read about it, Boom Chicago has been doing exactly that since 1993. The comedy shows are sharp, the crowd is international, and an evening there tells you more about Amsterdam’s spirit than a canal swim ever could. It is the kind of night out that makes the city make sense.

Amsterdam’s Leidseplein square is set for a significant redesign, with plans focused on reducing car and scooter traffic, expanding pedestrian space, improving cycling infrastructure, and creating a more liveable public square. The redevelopment is part of the city’s broader push to reclaim urban space from motor vehicles and invest in sustainable, people-first public areas. Below, we unpack the key questions surrounding the Leidseplein Amsterdam changes.

What changes are actually proposed for Leidseplein?

The proposed changes for Leidseplein centre on transforming it from a chaotic traffic junction into a calmer, greener, more pedestrian-friendly square. The plans include removing through-traffic, expanding pavement and terrace space, improving tram connections, and adding greenery to soften the hard urban environment that currently dominates the area.

The current Leidseplein is a genuinely strange place when you think about it. One of Amsterdam’s most famous entertainment squares, packed with theatres, bars, and restaurants, yet a significant portion of it is dedicated to moving and parking vehicles. The redevelopment aims to fix that imbalance by prioritising the people who actually want to be there rather than those passing through.

Key elements of the proposed redesign include:

• Restricting or eliminating motor vehicle access through the square
• Widening pedestrian zones and outdoor terrace areas for cafes and restaurants
• Improving tram stop layout and passenger flow
• Introducing more greenery, seating, and public space features
• Better cycling routes through and around the square

The result, if the plans are executed well, should be a square that finally matches the energy and importance it already has in Amsterdam’s cultural life.

Why is Amsterdam redeveloping Leidseplein now?

Amsterdam is redeveloping Leidseplein now because the square’s current layout is outdated, unsafe, and increasingly at odds with the city’s long-term ambitions around mobility, liveability, and public space. Leidseplein has long been a pinch point where pedestrians, cyclists, trams, and cars compete for the same limited space, a situation that has become harder to justify as the city grows busier.

The broader context is Amsterdam’s sustained effort to reduce private car use across the city centre. Leidseplein sits at the edge of the canal ring and handles enormous foot traffic from residents, visitors, and nightlife crowds. Redesigning it fits neatly into the city’s wider strategy of converting traffic-heavy squares into genuinely usable public spaces, a pattern already seen with the partial pedestrianisation of other central areas.

There is also a practical maintenance argument. Infrastructure around the square, including tram tracks and underground utilities, is ageing and requires significant work regardless. Combining that necessary maintenance with a broader redesign makes both financial and logistical sense.

How will the Leidseplein redevelopment affect local businesses and nightlife?

The Leidseplein redevelopment is likely to have a mixed short-term impact on local businesses, with construction disruption affecting footfall during the works, but a potentially positive long-term effect as expanded terrace space and a more pleasant environment attract more visitors. The nightlife scene, which is central to Leidseplein’s identity, should ultimately benefit from a calmer, more pedestrian-friendly square.

During construction, businesses around the square will face the familiar Amsterdam challenge of operating through roadworks, noise, and reduced accessibility. This is never easy, particularly for venues that depend on spontaneous evening crowds. Theatres, including Boom Chicago, bars, and restaurants in the area will need to navigate that period carefully.

Longer term, the logic is sound. More outdoor terrace space means more capacity for cafes and restaurants. Fewer cars and scooters means a more pleasant atmosphere for people choosing where to spend an evening. And a square that genuinely invites people to linger rather than just pass through is good news for every business that depends on that lingering.

The risk, as always with Amsterdam redevelopment projects, is that the execution does not match the ambition. Poorly designed pedestrianisation can kill the energy of a square just as effectively as too much traffic.

When will Leidseplein redevelopment be completed?

A firm completion date for the Leidseplein redevelopment has not been publicly confirmed, and Amsterdam city projects of this scale typically unfold over several years from planning to delivery. As of 2026, the project is in early planning and consultation phases, meaning construction is unlikely to begin immediately and a finished square is likely still several years away.

This is, frankly, very Amsterdam. The city has a well-documented tendency to move slowly on major public space projects, with planning rounds, public consultations, political debates, and budget negotiations all adding time before a single paving stone is lifted. Anyone who has watched the multi-year saga of other Amsterdam square redesigns will recognise the pattern.

The most realistic expectation is that significant visible work on Leidseplein will begin sometime in the late 2020s, with completion potentially stretching into the early 2030s depending on scope, funding, and the inevitable complications that surface once construction actually starts. Keeping an eye on Amsterdam municipality communications is the best way to track concrete timelines as they are confirmed.

How Klagen Niet Klagen keeps you informed about Amsterdam change

Amsterdam is constantly evolving, and keeping up with what is actually happening, beyond the press releases and tourist-friendly spin, takes a certain kind of platform. That is exactly what Klagen Niet Klagen is built for. Written by Andrew Moskos, co-founder of Boom Chicago and someone with over three decades of lived Amsterdam experience, the blog offers honest, independent commentary on the city’s changes, contradictions, and ongoing reinventions.

• Honest takes on Amsterdam urban development without tourism-board polish
• Long-form essays that go beyond the headline and into the actual implications
• An insider perspective grounded in real experience of building something lasting in this city
• Commentary written for people who actually live here or genuinely want to understand it

If you want to stay across what Amsterdam is becoming, not just what it claims to be, explore the blog archive for more essays and opinion pieces. And if you have thoughts, questions, or a topic you think deserves the Klagen Niet Klagen treatment, get in touch.

And speaking of things worth experiencing in Amsterdam before, during, or after any Leidseplein construction chaos: Boom Chicago has been making people laugh in this city since 1993. Sharp, improvised, and genuinely funny comedy is a reliable antidote to whatever the municipality is currently digging up outside. Check the shows and agenda and come see what all the fuss is about.

Swimming in the canals of Amsterdam is mostly illegal and actively discouraged by the city. The canals are classified as public waterways, which means swimming in them is officially prohibited under Amsterdam municipal rules. There are, however, a handful of designated spots where you can legally take a dip in open water in the city.

The reasons behind the ban are practical rather than bureaucratic: boat traffic, water quality, and safety all play a role. Below, this article unpacks where you can legally swim, why the canals are off-limits, what happens if you ignore the rules, and whether things might ever change.

Where in Amsterdam are you actually allowed to swim?

Amsterdam does have designated swimming spots, but none of them are in the historic canal ring. The city officially permits swimming at a number of outdoor locations, primarily around the Sloterplas, the Gaasperplas, the Nieuwe Meer, and the Amstel River at certain points. These are monitored for water quality, have clear entry and exit points, and are generally safe for recreational swimming.

The Sloterplas, located in the Nieuw-West district, is probably the most popular. It is a large recreational lake with a proper beach area and lifeguard supervision during summer months. The Gaasperplas in Amsterdam-Zuidoost is similarly set up for swimmers and is a little less crowded. Both are well worth the journey if you want to cool off during a hot Amsterdam summer.

The Amstel River is a slightly different case. Parts of it are technically swimmable, but conditions vary, and boat traffic means you need to be careful and well informed about exactly where you are entering the water. Always check the city’s official water quality monitoring before swimming anywhere in Amsterdam’s open water.

Why are the Amsterdam canals off-limits for swimming?

The Amsterdam canals are off-limits for swimming primarily because of boat traffic, water quality, and structural safety hazards. The canal ring is a working waterway system, not a recreational one. Houseboats, tourist boats, cargo vessels, and water taxis share the same narrow channels, making swimming genuinely dangerous.

Water quality is the second major factor. Despite significant improvement over the decades, the canal water still receives runoff from the city’s drainage system, particularly after heavy rainfall when the sewer system can overflow into the canals. Bacteria levels can spike unpredictably, making swimming a genuine health risk rather than just a bureaucratic concern.

There is also the issue of the canal walls themselves. The historic grachtengordel was not built with swimmers in mind. The walls are slippery, steep, and largely without handholds or ladders. Getting out of a canal if you fall in is far harder than getting in, which turns what might seem like a refreshing swim into a potential emergency.

What happens if you swim in the Amsterdam canals anyway?

If you swim in the Amsterdam canals, you can be fined by the city. Amsterdam’s municipal enforcement officers (known as handhaving) do patrol the canals, particularly in summer when the temptation rises with the temperature. The fine is not trivial, though the exact amount can vary depending on the specific location and circumstances.

Beyond the fine, the practical risks are real. People do fall into the Amsterdam canals every year, and not always by choice. The combination of slippery walls, cold water, and boat traffic means that what starts as a casual swim can quickly become dangerous. Emergency services are called to canal incidents regularly, particularly during summer evenings when alcohol is involved.

The city does not treat this as a victimless rule. The enforcement is real, the fines are real, and the physical risks are real. Jumping into the canals for a photo or a dare is the kind of thing that looks fun in the moment and considerably less fun in the aftermath.

Are the Amsterdam canals getting cleaner, and could swimming ever be allowed?

Yes, the Amsterdam canals are genuinely cleaner than they were a few decades ago. The city has invested heavily in water quality over the years, and the improvement is measurable. Fish have returned to canals where they were previously absent, and the water clarity has increased noticeably. By most accounts, the canal water today is cleaner than it has been at any point in the modern era.

Whether that translates into legal swimming is a different question. The city of Amsterdam has explored the idea of designated canal swimming spots in recent years, and there is genuine public appetite for it. The Prinsengracht and other central canals have been discussed as potential locations, but the logistical challenges are significant. Boat traffic would need to be rerouted or restricted, access infrastructure would need to be built, and water quality would need to be consistently monitored to a standard that protects public health.

As of 2026, no central canal swimming has been formally approved, but the direction of travel is encouraging. The conversation is happening at city level, and Amsterdam has a history of eventually delivering on ambitious urban water projects. It may not be this summer, but the idea of a legal swim in the Prinsengracht is no longer pure fantasy.

How Klagen Niet Klagen helps you understand Amsterdam

Questions like this one sit right at the intersection of what Klagen Niet Klagen is built for: practical Amsterdam knowledge delivered with honesty and a little humour, without the tourist-board gloss. Whether you are an expat trying to make sense of the city’s rules, a visitor who wants to go beyond the surface, or a curious Amsterdammer who never quite got around to asking, this blog exists to give you straight answers.

• Honest, insider commentary on Amsterdam city life written from over three decades of experience
• No tourist-board spin, no advertorial pressure, just genuine perspective
• Long-form essays and practical guides that treat you as an intelligent adult
• Written in English for a globally minded audience that mainstream Dutch media ignores

If you enjoyed this, there is plenty more where it came from. Head to the blog archive for more Amsterdam insight, and feel free to read about the person behind it if you want to know who you are actually listening to.

And speaking of Amsterdam experiences worth having: if you have never been to Boom Chicago, the comedy theatre that has been making Amsterdam laugh since 1993, now is a good time to fix that. It is the kind of evening that gives you a real feel for the city’s irreverent, creative soul, and frankly, it is a lot drier than swimming in the canals.

Reclaiming Amsterdam for residents is a realistic goal, but not if it means dismantling tourism entirely. The city’s visitor economy is too deeply woven into its financial fabric to simply switch off. The more honest question is whether Amsterdam can rebalance tourism rather than eliminate it, and the answer, based on what’s already been tried, is a cautious yes.

Tourism generates billions in economic activity each year, funds cultural institutions, and supports tens of thousands of jobs across hospitality, retail, and the arts. But it also drives up housing costs, degrades public space, and makes daily life measurably harder for people who actually live here. Both things are true simultaneously, which is what makes this debate so frustrating and so fascinating. Below, the key questions that shape this debate get the direct answers they deserve.

Who actually benefits from Amsterdam’s tourism revenue?

The benefits of Amsterdam’s tourism revenue are spread unevenly. A significant share flows to large hospitality businesses, international hotel chains, and platform-based short-stay operators rather than to the city’s permanent residents. Local government does collect substantial tax income through tourist levies, which funds public services, but the distribution rarely feels proportional to the disruption locals absorb.

Small independent businesses in the city centre do benefit from foot traffic, and the cultural sector relies on visitor spending to keep museums, theatres, and festivals financially viable. Without international audiences, several of Amsterdam’s most beloved institutions would struggle to survive on local attendance alone. That’s not a hypothetical, it’s a structural reality.

The honest picture is this: tourism revenue benefits Amsterdam, but it benefits some parts of Amsterdam far more than others. Residents in heavily touristed neighbourhoods like De Wallen, the Jordaan, and Leidseplein absorb the noise, crowding, and rising costs while seeing relatively little of the financial upside. That imbalance is at the heart of why the “Amsterdam reclaimed for residents” conversation keeps resurfacing.

What does ‘reclaiming’ Amsterdam actually mean?

“Reclaiming” Amsterdam means restoring the conditions that make the city liveable for permanent residents: affordable housing, accessible public space, functioning local retail, and neighbourhoods that serve people who actually live in them rather than people passing through. It does not mean closing the city to visitors. It means shifting the balance of power in urban planning back toward residents.

The term carries emotional weight because it implies something was taken. And in a meaningful sense, it was. Neighbourhoods that once had butchers, bookshops, and brown cafés now have souvenir shops, Airbnb apartments, and cocktail bars aimed at weekend visitors. The physical texture of the city has changed in ways that make it feel less like a place to live and more like a product to consume.

Reclaiming, practically speaking, involves a set of policy levers: restricting short-stay rentals, limiting new hotel development, redirecting tourist flows away from saturated areas, and investing tourism tax revenue directly into resident-facing infrastructure. None of these require shutting tourism down. They require governing it with residents as the primary stakeholder rather than an afterthought.

Which Amsterdam anti-tourism policies have worked so far?

Several Amsterdam anti-tourism policies have produced measurable results. The most effective have been the short-stay rental restrictions, which capped Airbnb-style lettings and eventually moved toward outright bans in the most pressured districts. These directly reduced the conversion of residential housing into de facto hotels and slowed displacement in several neighbourhoods.

The city has also raised its tourist tax significantly, making Amsterdam one of the more expensive destinations for overnight stays in Western Europe. Whether higher taxes deter visitors is debatable, but they do generate revenue that can theoretically be directed toward resident services. The key word is “theoretically”, how that money is actually spent matters enormously.

The “Stay Away” campaign targeting certain categories of visitors, particularly young men travelling for nightlife, was notable for its directness. It was unusual for a European city to openly discourage specific visitor demographics rather than simply marketing itself more broadly. Early signals suggested it shifted some behaviour, though measuring the impact precisely is difficult.

What has not worked well is dispersal, the idea that encouraging tourists to visit other Dutch cities or less-visited Amsterdam neighbourhoods will relieve pressure on the centre. Visitors largely go where they want to go, and the most iconic parts of Amsterdam will always draw the most foot traffic regardless of what the tourist board recommends.

Can Amsterdam reduce tourism without damaging its economy?

Amsterdam can reduce certain types of tourism without significantly damaging its economy. The city does not need to attract every category of visitor equally. High-volume, low-spend tourism, large bachelor parties, budget overnight stays, and mass-market group tours, generates relatively little economic value per visitor while creating disproportionate pressure on public space and resident quality of life.

Redirecting the tourism mix toward longer-stay visitors, cultural travellers, and business conference attendees would likely maintain or even increase overall economic value while reducing the sheer volume of people on the streets. This is not a radical idea, it is basic destination management, and several cities have moved in this direction with reasonable success.

The harder truth is that any meaningful reduction in visitor numbers will create short-term economic pain for businesses that have structured themselves around high tourist volumes. Some of those businesses are local and genuinely beloved. Others are international chains with no particular loyalty to the city. Policy that distinguishes between them is smarter than blanket restriction, but it is also more politically complex to execute.

The Amsterdam reclaimed for residents vision is achievable, but only if the city is willing to accept that “less tourism” in some forms is a feature rather than a bug. That requires political courage and a clear-eyed acknowledgment that the current model has real costs, not just for residents, but for the long-term character of the city itself.

How Klagen Niet Klagen frames the Amsterdam tourism debate

Klagen Niet Klagen exists precisely for conversations like this one. The blog was built to give the Amsterdam tourism debate the honest, insider treatment it rarely gets in mainstream media, which tends to either celebrate visitor numbers or catastrophise them without much nuance in between.

• Long-form essays that go beyond headlines and actually sit with the complexity of Amsterdam’s tourism challenge
• A perspective grounded in over three decades of living and building something real in this city
• Commentary that takes residents seriously as stakeholders rather than background characters in someone else’s travel story
• A clear editorial voice free from tourism board influence or advertorial pressure
• Writing that is honest about what Amsterdam gets wrong, not just what it gets right

If this kind of thinking is what you’re after, there is plenty more where it came from. Explore the full archive and keep the conversation going.

And if you want to experience Amsterdam’s creative energy in person rather than just read about it, Boom Chicago has been doing exactly that since 1993. The comedy and improvisation shows are the best possible antidote to a city that sometimes takes itself a little too seriously. Check out what’s on and grab a seat before someone else does.

Amsterdam has made real progress balancing tourism with quality of life, but the balance remains imperfect and contested. The city has introduced meaningful restrictions – on short-term rentals, cruise ships, and hotel expansion – but the core tension between a globally desirable destination and a livable city for residents has not been resolved. The questions below dig into what has actually changed, who benefits, and what Amsterdam risks losing.

What has Amsterdam actually done to limit tourism?

Amsterdam has introduced some of the most aggressive anti-tourism measures of any major European city. The most significant steps include banning new hotels in the city centre, phasing out cruise ship terminals near the historic core, restricting short-term rentals to 30 nights per year, and outright banning cannabis sales to non-residents in certain areas. These are not symbolic gestures – they represent a genuine shift in municipal policy.

The city has also invested in redirecting visitors away from the most overcrowded neighbourhoods. Marketing campaigns have actively promoted lesser-known areas of the broader Amsterdam metropolitan region, and the municipality has published blunt messaging – including ads telling certain types of tourists they are not welcome – that would have been unthinkable from a tourism board even a decade ago.

What is striking is how far the conversation has moved. For years, Amsterdam’s economy leaned heavily into its popularity. The pivot toward managing and reducing visitor numbers reflects a recognition that growth in tourism had started to actively damage the city’s social fabric, housing market, and public spaces.

Does reducing tourism actually improve life for Amsterdam residents?

Reducing tourism improves some aspects of resident life, but the relationship between visitor numbers and quality of life is more complicated than it first appears. Fewer tourists in the Jordaan or De Wallen do make those streets more livable for the people who actually live there. Noise, litter, and anti-social behaviour drop when short-term rental properties convert back to long-term housing. These are real, measurable improvements.

But the gains are uneven. Many of the city’s cultural institutions – museums, theatres, music venues – depend on tourist spending to stay financially viable. When visitor numbers drop sharply, these institutions feel it first. The same applies to the hospitality sector, which employs a significant share of Amsterdam’s working population.

There is also a housing dimension that tourism policy alone cannot fix. The Amsterdam housing crisis has structural causes – land scarcity, planning constraints, population growth – that reducing Airbnb listings helps at the margins but does not solve at the root. Residents who struggle to find affordable housing are not primarily suffering because of tourism; they are suffering because of a housing market that has been broken for a long time.

Who benefits most from Amsterdam’s tourism economy?

The benefits of Amsterdam’s tourism economy are distributed unevenly, and that unevenness is at the heart of the debate about the balance between tourism and living. Large hospitality businesses, hotel chains, and commercial landlords capture a disproportionate share of tourism revenue. Meanwhile, the costs – noise, crowding, rising rents, degraded public space – fall most heavily on ordinary residents, particularly those in the city centre.

Small, independent businesses occupy a complicated middle ground. A local café or bookshop on a tourist-heavy street benefits from foot traffic but also faces rents inflated by the same tourism economy that drives customers through the door. Many have been priced out entirely, replaced by souvenir shops and chain restaurants that serve visitors rather than residents.

Workers in the tourism and hospitality sector benefit in terms of employment, but often in low-wage, precarious roles that do not offset the higher cost of living that tourism contributes to. The net effect for this group is frequently negative when housing and living costs are factored in.

Can Amsterdam stay a world-class city without mass tourism?

Yes – and the more interesting question is whether Amsterdam can stay a world-class city with mass tourism at its current scale. The cities that consistently rank as the most livable, creative, and culturally vital in the world are not necessarily the ones with the highest visitor numbers. They are the ones that have maintained the conditions that attract talented, curious, engaged people to actually live there long-term.

Amsterdam’s global reputation was built on genuine qualities: its architecture, its liberal culture, its history of trade and openness, its creative industries, and its human scale. None of those qualities require ten million tourists a year to sustain them. In fact, several of them are actively undermined by that volume of visitors.

What Amsterdam risks losing is not its international appeal – that is deeply embedded and will not disappear. What it risks losing is the social texture and economic diversity that made it interesting in the first place. A city centre full of short-term rental apartments and tourist restaurants is not a world-class city; it is a theme park with a very good canal system. The balance between tourism and living is ultimately a question about what kind of city Amsterdam wants to be – and who it wants to be that city for.

How Klagen Niet Klagen looks at Amsterdam’s tourism debate

This is exactly the kind of question that mainstream Amsterdam media tends to flatten into either cheerful tourism promotion or breathless crisis coverage. Klagen Niet Klagen exists to do something different: to sit with the genuine complexity, name the contradictions honestly, and write about them with the perspective that only comes from three decades of actually living and building something here.

• Long-form essays on Amsterdam city life written from genuine insider experience, not a press release
• Honest takes on the tensions between what makes Amsterdam great and what is slowly eroding it
• Commentary that serves residents, expats, and internationally minded visitors who want more than a top-ten list
• A consistent editorial voice free from tourism board influence or advertorial pressure

If you want more of this kind of writing, the blog archive is the place to start. Pull up a chair, pour something Dutch, and dig in.

And if you want to experience Amsterdam’s creative energy in person rather than just read about it, Boom Chicago has been doing exactly that since 1993. Sharp, funny, Amsterdam-rooted comedy that has nothing to do with tourist traps and everything to do with the city at its best. Check the shows and agenda – there is almost certainly something on that is worth your evening.

Tourism keeps growing in Amsterdam despite resident complaints because the economic forces driving it are far stronger than the social forces pushing back. The hospitality industry, transport sector, and city tax revenues all depend on visitor spending, which means the institutions with the most power to slow tourism down are also the ones with the most to lose if they do. The questions below unpack exactly how that tension plays out and what, if anything, will ever change it.

Who actually benefits from Amsterdam’s tourism boom?

The biggest beneficiaries of Amsterdam’s tourism boom are businesses in hospitality, retail, and transport, along with the municipal government, which collects substantial tourist tax revenue. These are not small or marginal players. They are well-organised, politically connected, and economically significant. Residents who find the city noisier, more crowded, and more expensive are far more diffuse as a group and far harder to mobilise.

Hotels, Airbnb hosts, restaurants, museums, tour operators, and the Schiphol ecosystem all have a direct financial stake in high visitor numbers. The city of Amsterdam itself collects a tourist tax on every overnight stay, which funds public services that residents also use. That creates a structural conflict of interest: the city government is simultaneously the body most responsible for managing tourism and one of the entities that profits most when more tourists arrive.

Meanwhile, the costs of mass tourism fall on residents in ways that are real but diffuse. Higher rents, crowded streets, noise, and the slow erosion of neighbourhood character are genuine quality-of-life issues. But they don’t show up on a balance sheet. The benefits of tourism are concentrated and measurable. The costs are spread across hundreds of thousands of people and are much harder to quantify. That asymmetry shapes every policy conversation about the balance between tourism and living.

Why don’t resident complaints slow tourism down?

Resident complaints don’t slow tourism down because complaints are not the same as political power, and the economic interests on the other side of the table are far better organised. Dissatisfied residents write letters, sign petitions, and complain on social media. Hotel chains hire lobbyists. That is not a fair fight.

There is also a deeper problem: many residents are themselves economically tied to tourism in ways they don’t always acknowledge. The Amsterdammer who rents out a spare room, works in a creative industry sustained partly by international visitors, or runs a business that serves both locals and tourists is not going to vote for policies that tank the city’s visitor economy. The line between beneficiary and victim is blurrier than it looks.

And then there is the political reality that tourism is genuinely popular at the national level. Schiphol is a point of national pride. The Rijksmuseum is a symbol of Dutch cultural identity. Restricting access to Amsterdam for international visitors is a hard sell in The Hague. Local frustration rarely translates into national political will, and without national support, the city’s hands are tied on some of the biggest levers.

What has Amsterdam actually done to limit tourist numbers?

Amsterdam has taken more concrete steps to manage tourism than almost any other European city, including banning new hotels in the city centre, restricting short-stay rentals, closing the cruise terminal to large ships, and running campaigns that explicitly tell certain tourists they are not welcome. Whether these measures have actually reduced visitor numbers is a different question.

The short-stay rental restrictions have had a genuine effect on Airbnb supply, reducing the number of entire apartments available for tourist use and returning some housing stock to the residential market. The hotel ban has slowed the growth of new accommodation capacity in the most sensitive areas. These are real policy wins, not just symbolic gestures.

But the city has also been careful not to go so far that it triggers a serious economic backlash. Measures that reduce the worst excesses of mass tourism are politically viable. Measures that would genuinely cut visitor numbers by a significant margin are not. The result is a policy approach that manages the symptoms of overtourism more effectively than it addresses the underlying demand. The balance between tourism and living shifts slightly, but the fundamental dynamic stays the same.

Will Amsterdam’s tourism ever stop growing?

Amsterdam’s tourism will almost certainly not stop growing indefinitely, but it may plateau as physical and regulatory constraints tighten. The city has a finite number of hotel beds, a finite airport capacity, and a growing political willingness to use both as tools of demand management. At some point, supply constraints will do what policy has struggled to do directly.

The more interesting question is whether the character of tourism will change even if the numbers don’t fall dramatically. Amsterdam has made a deliberate effort to attract visitors who stay longer, spend more, and concentrate less in the historic centre. Whether that repositioning succeeds depends on factors that are partly within the city’s control and partly not, including global travel trends, the strength of the Dutch brand abroad, and how aggressively competitors like Rotterdam and Utrecht develop their own visitor economies.

What is almost certainly not coming is a dramatic, sustained decline driven by resident pressure alone. Cities that depend on tourism rarely vote themselves out of it. The more realistic scenario is a slow, contested negotiation between growth and livability that produces incremental improvements without ever fully resolving the tension. That tension, by the way, is not unique to Amsterdam. It is one of the defining urban questions of the twenty-first century.

How Klagen Niet Klagen helps you make sense of Amsterdam’s tourism debate

If you live in Amsterdam, visit regularly, or simply care about what happens to one of Europe’s most interesting cities, the tourism debate is not abstract. It shapes where you can afford to live, what your neighbourhood feels like, and whether the city you love will still be recognisable in ten years. Klagen Niet Klagen exists to cut through the polished talking points and give you an honest, insider perspective on exactly these questions.

• Long-form essays on Amsterdam city life written from over three decades of experience living and building here
• Commentary that names the real tensions honestly, without tourism-board spin or diplomatic softening
• A clear Klagen / Niet Klagen framework that holds both the frustrations and the genuine pleasures of Amsterdam in view at the same time
• An independent editorial voice with no advertorial pressure and no agenda beyond telling the truth about this city

If you want commentary that treats you as an intelligent adult who can handle a complicated picture, this is the place. Browse the full archive and find the Amsterdam essays that actually reflect the city you know.

And if you want to experience Amsterdam’s sharpest comedic take on city life in person, Boom Chicago has been doing exactly that since 1993. The same honest, funny, Amsterdam-rooted perspective that runs through this blog has been playing out on stage for over thirty years. If you haven’t been, or haven’t been recently, check what’s coming up in the programme and come see what you’ve been missing.

Amsterdam nightlife culture has not died, but it has changed dramatically. The city’s club scene has contracted, several legendary venues have closed, and the post-pandemic landscape looks nothing like it did in 2015. But calling it dead misses the more complicated truth: Amsterdam nightlife is going through a painful, unfinished transformation.

The combination of rising costs, tighter regulation, housing pressure, and a city government with mixed feelings about its own party reputation has squeezed the life out of certain corners of the scene. Whether what remains is enough depends entirely on what you’re looking for. Here’s an honest look at what’s actually happening.

What has actually changed about Amsterdam nightlife in recent years?

Amsterdam nightlife after COVID is fundamentally different from what it was before. Several major clubs closed permanently during or shortly after the pandemic, venues that survived are operating under stricter conditions, and the city’s tolerance for late-night noise and crowds has visibly shrunk. The energy that defined the scene in the early 2010s has not fully returned.

Before the pandemic, Amsterdam had a genuinely thriving underground club culture. Venues like Shelter, Radion, and De School were drawing serious international crowds. The city felt like it was building toward something. Then COVID hit, venues closed for nearly two years, and when they reopened, the landscape had shifted.

Several things happened at once. Rents went up. Staff who left during lockdown did not come back. The city government, always quietly ambivalent about Amsterdam’s nightlife reputation, used the moment to tighten licensing rules and push venues toward earlier closing times. And the crowd itself changed: habits formed during two years of staying home do not dissolve overnight.

The result is a scene that feels thinner. Fewer venues, fewer nights, and a sense among longtime residents that something irreplaceable was lost during those two years and never recovered.

Why are Amsterdam clubs closing at such a high rate?

Amsterdam clubs are closing at a high rate because of a perfect storm of economic pressure, regulatory tightening, and a city government that has never been fully committed to protecting nightlife as a cultural asset. The costs of running a venue in Amsterdam have risen sharply, while the conditions under which clubs can operate have become increasingly restrictive.

The economics are brutal. Amsterdam real estate is among the most expensive in Europe, and landlords have little incentive to offer favorable terms to nightlife venues when they can rent the same space to a hotel, office, or residential developer. When a lease comes up for renewal, clubs often simply cannot compete.

Regulation adds another layer of difficulty. Amsterdam introduced a Night Mayor position years ago, which was a positive step, but the city’s actual policy decisions have often worked against the scene. Noise complaints from new residents moving into formerly industrial areas have led to earlier closing times and stricter sound limits. Building apartments next to established clubs and then restricting those clubs to protect the new residents is a pattern that has played out repeatedly.

There is also a talent and staffing problem. Running a good club requires experienced bookers, sound engineers, bar staff, and security staff. Many of those people left Amsterdam during the pandemic and did not return. The institutional knowledge that made certain venues great is genuinely hard to rebuild.

How does Amsterdam’s nightlife compare to Berlin and other European cities?

Amsterdam’s nightlife compares unfavorably to Berlin when measured by scale, club culture depth, and political protection of the scene. Berlin treats its club culture as a form of cultural heritage and regulates it accordingly. Amsterdam has never made that commitment, and the gap between the two cities has widened significantly since the pandemic.

Berlin is the obvious benchmark, and the comparison is not flattering for Amsterdam. German courts have classified Berlin clubs as cultural institutions, giving them legal protections that Dutch venues simply do not have. Berlin’s city government actively defends the scene against development pressure. Amsterdam’s approach has been far more passive, occasionally supportive in rhetoric but inconsistent in practice.

London, despite its own struggles with venue closures, has seen a stronger bounce-back in certain neighborhoods, partly because of the Agent of Change principle, which places the legal burden of noise mitigation on new residential developments rather than on existing venues. Amsterdam has not adopted anything equivalent.

Barcelona and Paris have their own nightlife challenges, but both cities benefit from a culture that integrates late-night socializing more naturally into everyday life. Amsterdam’s relationship with nightlife has always been slightly awkward: the city built a reputation on it but never quite decided whether to be proud of that reputation or embarrassed by it.

What Amsterdam does retain is a genuinely international crowd and a music culture with real depth, particularly in electronic music. The city still produces and attracts serious talent. The infrastructure to support that talent, however, is thinner than it used to be.

Is Amsterdam nightlife dead, or just different now?

Amsterdam nightlife is not dead, but it is different, smaller, and more fragile than it was a decade ago. The scene has contracted, the most vulnerable venues are gone, and what remains is operating under more pressure than before. Whether you experience Amsterdam nightlife as diminished or simply changed depends on what you valued most about it in the first place.

If you loved the abundance of options, the sense that there was always something happening somewhere, and the feeling that Amsterdam was competing at the top level of European club culture, then yes, that version of the city has taken a serious hit. The ecosystem is thinner.

But there are still good nights happening. There are still promoters doing interesting things, still venues with integrity, still moments when Amsterdam feels like the city it used to be after midnight. The scene is not gone. It is just harder to find and less forgiving of a bad night out.

There is also something worth saying about the broader cultural context. Amsterdam nightlife after COVID is part of a wider story about what cities are for. As Amsterdam has become more expensive, more regulated, and more oriented toward attracting high-income residents and premium tourism, the space for the kind of culture that makes a city genuinely interesting has shrunk. Nightlife is just the most visible symptom of that shift.

The honest answer is that Amsterdam nightlife is in a difficult moment, not a terminal one. Whether it recovers depends on political will, economic conditions, and whether enough people care enough to fight for it.

How Klagen Niet Klagen covers Amsterdam nightlife honestly

This is exactly the kind of topic that Klagen Niet Klagen exists to cover. Not the tourist-board version of Amsterdam nightlife, and not the nostalgic lament that pretends everything was perfect before. The real, complicated, sometimes frustrating story of a city trying to figure out what it wants to be.

• Honest, insider commentary on Amsterdam culture and city life, written by someone who has been here since 1993 and has no incentive to sugarcoat anything
• Long-form essays that go beyond the surface and engage with the real tensions shaping the city
• A perspective shaped by over three decades of building something in Amsterdam, not just observing it
• Content written for people who actually live here or know the city well, not for first-time visitors looking for a top-ten list

If you want more of this kind of writing, the blog archive is the place to start. And if you want to get in touch or share your own take on where Amsterdam nightlife is headed, the contact page is always open.

Speaking of things that are still very much alive in Amsterdam: Boom Chicago has been running shows in this city since 1993, through every shift in the cultural landscape, including the pandemic. If you want a night out that combines sharp comedy, genuine Amsterdam energy, and the kind of crowd that actually gets the joke, check out the shows and agenda. Some things in this city have not just survived. They have gotten better.

Some cities genuinely do manage the balance between tourism and living better than Amsterdam. Places like Vienna, Kyoto, and Ghent have developed deliberate strategies that protect neighbourhood life while still welcoming visitors. The difference is rarely luck; it comes down to policy choices, urban design, and a willingness to say no to short-term revenue in favour of long-term liveability. The questions below unpack what those cities are doing right, where Amsterdam falls short, and what it would actually take to change that.

Which cities have actually figured out the tourist-local balance?

No city has solved this perfectly, but several have made meaningful progress. Vienna, Ghent, Ljubljana, and Kyoto consistently rank as cities where residents and visitors coexist without one group completely overwhelming the other. What they share is an intentional approach to tourism management rather than a passive one; they treat visitor flow as something to be shaped, not simply absorbed.

Vienna spreads tourist infrastructure across the entire city rather than concentrating it in a handful of streets. Its public transport is genuinely excellent, which means visitors naturally disperse. Ghent in Belgium is a striking example closer to home: it has a medieval centre just as photogenic as Bruges, yet it never became a day-trip monoculture because it retained a large student population and kept housing affordable enough for locals to stay. Ljubljana in Slovenia actively limits coach tourism and has invested in pedestrianised zones that serve residents first and tourists second. Kyoto is the most complex case: it still struggles with overtourism in specific districts, but it has implemented zoning rules that restrict commercial activity in residential areas and introduced visitor fees for certain sites. The common thread across all of them is that someone in charge actually made a decision.

What tactics do well-balanced cities use to protect local neighbourhoods?

Cities that maintain a healthy balance between tourism and local life typically use a combination of dispersal strategies, housing protections, and commercial zoning rules. The goal is to prevent tourist infrastructure from replacing the everyday services that make a neighbourhood liveable for residents.

• Visitor dispersal: Rather than funnelling tourists into one or two iconic areas, well-managed cities invest in making less-visited neighbourhoods accessible and appealing. Good signage, public transport links, and cultural programming outside the centre all help spread the load.
• Short-term rental caps: Cities like Barcelona and Amsterdam have both attempted this, but the most effective versions involve strict enforcement rather than just legislation. Amsterdam has rules on paper; enforcement has historically been inconsistent.
• Commercial zoning protections: Preventing souvenir shops, tourist restaurants, and ticket offices from taking over entire streets requires active zoning decisions. Ghent, for example, has protected certain streets from full commercialisation by reserving ground-floor units for resident-serving businesses.
• Resident-first infrastructure: Prioritising cycling infrastructure, local markets, and neighbourhood services signals to residents that the city is still theirs. When every public space is optimised for visitor experience, locals start to feel like extras in their own city.
• Visitor fees and quotas: Some cities have introduced entry fees for specific sites or time-slot booking systems to reduce peak crowding. Venice’s day-tripper fee is controversial but reflects a broader willingness to use price as a demand management tool.

Why does Amsterdam struggle where other cities manage better?

Amsterdam struggles with the balance between tourism and living for a specific set of structural reasons. The city is physically small, its most famous attractions are tightly clustered, and for years its economic model depended heavily on tourism revenue. Changing that model requires political will that has been slow to materialise.

The canal ring, the UNESCO-listed historic centre, is both Amsterdam’s greatest asset and its biggest problem. It is compact, beautiful, and almost impossible to replicate elsewhere in the city, which means tourist pressure concentrates relentlessly in a small area. Unlike Vienna, Amsterdam cannot easily redirect visitors to equivalent alternatives because there is no equivalent alternative within the city limits.

There is also a governance issue. Amsterdam’s city council has taken some meaningful steps: banning new hotels in the centre, restricting short-term rentals, and running campaigns explicitly telling certain types of tourists to stay away. But enforcement has lagged behind policy, and the economic interests tied to tourism, hotels, tour operators, Airbnb landlords, souvenir retailers, are organised and vocal. Resident interests, by contrast, are diffuse and harder to mobilise. That asymmetry shapes political outcomes.

Finally, Amsterdam became a victim of its own brand. The city marketed itself aggressively as a party destination for decades, attracting a visitor profile that was always going to be difficult to manage. Rebranding takes time, and the infrastructure built to serve that profile, the cluster of bars near Leidseplein, the coffee shops, the Red Light District, does not disappear overnight just because the marketing changes.

What would it actually take for Amsterdam to get this right?

Getting the balance between tourism and living right in Amsterdam would require sustained political commitment, stronger enforcement of existing rules, and a willingness to accept short-term economic pain for long-term liveability gains. None of that is impossible, but all of it requires choices that are politically uncomfortable.

The most impactful lever is housing. When locals can afford to live in the city centre, neighbourhoods retain the everyday character that makes them worth visiting in the first place. That means keeping short-term rental restrictions tight, enforcing them rigorously, and resisting the lobbying pressure to water them down. It also means building more housing across the metropolitan area so that the centre is not the only place people want to live.

Beyond housing, Amsterdam needs a genuine dispersal strategy. The NDSM Wharf, Noord, and parts of the Westelijke Eilanden are already interesting to visitors, but reaching them requires effort. Investing in clearer wayfinding, better transport links, and cultural programming outside the centre would help shift some of the load. It would not solve the problem, but it would reduce the concentration of pressure on the canal ring.

The harder question is visitor profile. Amsterdam has started to be more selective about whom it courts as a tourist, and that is the right instinct. Attracting visitors who stay longer, spend more thoughtfully, and engage with the city beyond its most famous streets is a better model than maximising raw visitor numbers. That shift takes years to take effect, and it requires consistency from everyone involved in city marketing, not just the municipality, but hotels, airlines, and the tourism industry more broadly.

How Klagen Niet Klagen covers the Amsterdam tourism debate

This is exactly the kind of conversation that Klagen Niet Klagen exists to have. Not the tourist-board version. Not the diplomatic non-answer. The honest, informed, slightly exasperated take from someone who has lived and built something in this city for over thirty years.

• Long-form essays on Amsterdam’s liveability, housing, and cultural identity, written for people who actually live here or want to understand it properly
• Opinion that does not flinch from naming what is going wrong, alongside genuine appreciation for what makes Amsterdam worth fighting for
• A perspective shaped by decades inside the city’s creative and entrepreneurial scene, not by a press trip or a tourism grant
• More pieces like this one in the blog archive, covering the contradictions and complexities of Amsterdam life

If you want commentary that treats you as an intelligent adult who can handle nuance, find out more about the blog and what it is trying to do.

And if you want to experience Amsterdam’s creative energy in a completely different way, come and see a show at Boom Chicago. For over thirty years, Boom Chicago has been doing what the best cities do at their best: bringing people together, making them laugh, and showing them something true about the place they are in. Check the shows and agenda and book a seat; it is one of the things Amsterdam genuinely still gets right.