Last time we checked in, Lauren Comiteau tried and failed to score free tickets for Amsterdam’s 750^th birthday party on the A10 Ring road. But like many of the city’s residents, last minute tickets meant she got to sweat and shimmy alongside 253,000 of her neighbours on Saturday. 

Well, that went well. Much better than I could have imagined exactly one month ago when I, like hundreds of thousands of other Amsterdammers and Dutch residents, waited hours to get tickets that didn’t materialize and some frustrated would-be partygoers were predicting a Storming of the Ring on the day.

But the party seems to have gone on without a hitch, except at one packed highway rave that had to be temporarily closed as visitors started climbing over barriers, mostly to escape the crowds.

Other than that, it was a day of superlatives. The longest day of the year, the hottest day of the year (30°!), and, as Amsterdam mayor Femke Halsema said when she officiated over the weddings of 20 couples on the A10, a “once in a lifetime” opportunity, one that “you won’t get to do … again.”

Not surprising, given what was no doubt a logistical nightmare closing down a 15-kilometer stretch of the busy ring road so revellers could listen to music, dance, sport, eat, do crafts and even visit traveling museum exhibitions. (I got to peek inside the Verzetsmuseum’s (Resistance Museum) recreation of the rooms of both resistance fighters and collaborators alike.)

But if anyone knows how to throw a fun and safe mass party (King’s Day, anyone?), it’s the Dutch. The logistics were stellar, from the city workers guiding people to the party from various public transportation points to the heavy yet unobtrusive security presence and even the worker who advised me to put my shoes on, apparently concerned I’d burn the soles of my feet on the blazing asphalt.

Overheated but overjoyed

Everyone I encountered on the western side of the A10 was ecstatic to be there. Even my ring party-sceptic friend admitted that it “was funny to walk on the motorway. But apart from that, we only saw places to eat and pee. But I’m glad we made the effort.”

In fact, it was she who gave me my two tickets after a friend of hers from out of town couldn’t make it. That seems to be how it was for almost everyone I spoke with—last minute tickets via someone they knew.

Sida from Amsterdam’s De Baarsjes neighbourhood ended up working on the ring with a friend who was hired to run a crafts table. She found out she’d be attending the party only the day before.

“I smiled all day,” she said. “I’m going to the party without waiting for a ticket! And I love it. It’s a good vibe. Everybody is so nice and smiling. I never felt happier in Amsterdam.”

“I came because I think it’s unique to have a party on the highway and it’s 750 years of Amsterdam,” said one mother who had her daughter and nephew in tow. “You need to be here, especially when you live in Amsterdam.”

I tried to check back in with my hair salon mates who I spent a couple harried hours with as we all unsuccessfully attempted to get online tickets last month. No one answered the phone, even though I called during business hours. I’d like to think colourist Pink and the rest of her colleagues scored last minute tickets and closed up shop early to go dancing.

Those left behind

Given the staggering demand for tickets to a limited-admission event, there were no doubt thousands of disappointed Amsterdammers watching—or listening—from the sidelines.

Mart van Drunen and his husband were annoyed. “We spoke with various Amsterdammers who felt it was ridiculous that only so many, and not others, could attend,” they said.

“What is this bullshit with only a certain number of people being able to attend this celebration they’re describing everywhere as being ‘for everyone?’ It’s totally ridiculous and so typical of this present city administration.”

I must respectfully disagree. In these days of autocratic tendencies, an administration—even a local one—by the people for the people can well set an example for the wider, tortured world.

For us lucky and privileged couple of hundred thousand revellers, the day was divine. I took my niece from Pennsylvania along with me (yes, I tried to give the ticket to an Amsterdammer first, so back off). Like most people I spoke with, she was impressed with the “vibe”.

She also applauded the many child-friendly activities, the sense of community, the Resistance Museum’s presentation of not only “good history” and her Febo croquette for a mere €3.80.

“I just can’t imagine anything like this in today’s America,” she said. “It also doesn’t seem as commercialised. In the US, they would definitely try and get as much money as they can out of everybody. Never could you eat at a festival for under €4!”

Re-imagining

I attended a talk the other night about inserting imagination into politics. It made me wonder when the idea first hit those at the gemeente to close down the A10 for a citywide party. It must have sounded like the stuff of fantasy.

I had planned to do cartwheels down the median to celebrate my liberation from the usually congested Ring road. Belatedly realising that my cartwheel days are behind me, I danced down the A10 instead. And I’m grateful I live in a city that gave me that opportunity.

“It’s absolutely amazing,” said Amsterdammer Leo. “It’s a highway, and then there are all these logistics and a party and everyone is happy, and then tomorrow, it will be a highway again. That’s a remarkable thing, right?”

It certainly is.