BbcI was planning a simple afternoon out – bags ready to roll – when I restricted down and hit the crash of unbelief.
The space where my cargo bike was supposed to be was empty and the double lock that had attached it to my wall of my apartment in Amsterdam was hacked.
My daughter threw herself between the other motorcycles, convinced that someone should have moved it, but no, he was gone.
With cycling deeply embedded in everyday life here in the Netherlands – part of the Dutch DNA, as we say – I have no car, so I used my bike for everything, from the shopping school.
It was no ordinary bicycle. My colleague Kate Vandy and I redesigned it to become a mobile broadcast studio, which we called the bicycle desk. I started “Dutch News from the Bicycle Road”, a reporting series born of the school run after my daughter asked me, “Why don't you just tell people the news now?”
The bicycle allowed me to reach the scenes and to broadcast live everywhere, my daughter next to me, showing that working maternity could be visible, joyful and real.
He opened the doors for cooperation, awards and a community of people who saw each other in our history.
I have a zero expectation to return the bike and its demand turned out to be fruitless. I called the police immediately and they opened a case, but they closed it shortly afterwards due to lack of evidence to help find the thief.
People online and in my local community gathered to try to find it as I postponed appeal. The neighbors asked me if I was fine, telling me that they like to see me enjoy their bicycle lanes and see their city from the point of view of my foreigner.
But why, my daughter asked, did so many people take care that our motor was stolen?
Life-Hak and much more
Colleagues and friends responded to my reel on Instagram for the theft. The legendary BBC Camerawoman Julie Ritson called my bike plan for the future of journalism. Others said it was a relaxing life hack that showed how a person could manage motherhood and career and inspired them to rethink what was possible with a truck.
It was powered by solar energy, reducing the need for satellite trucks with heavy equipment and the pollution that brings the mode of transport.
Studies last year by the Reuters Institute to study journalism show that the audience is not only interested in news about climate change – they are particularly engaged in stories that emphasize people who take action in response to the crisis.
Some people were surprised that “this kind of thing” would happen in the Netherlands. What they may not realize is that theft of bicycles is endemic here. Last year, over 86,000 engines in the Netherlands were reported, which was 1,000 compared to the previous year and 10,000 more than in 2022, according to police. Authorities say the growth of reports may have contributed to it.
Most stolen bicycles are deprived of parts or sold on. My electronic cargo motorcycle cost nearly 5,000 euros (4,200 pounds) – more than our old car I sold.
I paid for the bike so the BBC did not suffer a financial loss.
What he really bought me was independence – and in a sense the loss is like the loss of a friend. In addition to the impact on my own lifestyle, this bike gave my daughter a magical, nature -filled childhood: picnics in dunes, tours to see high mountain cows, fabulous lights in the winter, windy rides on the beach in the summer.
Theft has sparked conversations about urban safety, cycling infrastructure and mothers of gravity still carry. But it is also a testimony to the community that we have built and the power of sharing authentic stories from the saddle.
I may not get my bike back, but no one can steal what everyone gave us.