Most Liveable Place: Part 4 - Delft

The Netherlands, let alone Delft, is hardly the hotbed of anarchic action that kick-started urban resistance to the car’s dominance. But in a quiet, dense, neighbourhood a group of residents took direct action. Potted plants and benches were dragged across roads to pedestrianise these woonerf playgrounds. This tactical urbanism forced cars to slow down to walking pace to manoeuvre around street furniture. They made space for children to play and for residents to grow plants and to have a communal brew. Life returned to the streets. 

Tuinstraat, Delft, Netherlands (c)  Mobycon

Whilst the original movement was guerrilla, the municipal and national governments quickly accepted the concept of shared space at low speeds in residential neighbourhoods. Deciding to work with the grain of human behaviour and habitat. 

The government also realised that to enable cycling, it needed to provide a choice of routes and allow people to determine which was best for them. Urban planners, the heroes of most bedtime tales, identified three types of network: urban, district and neighbourhoods. Individually they would provide access to inter-regional cycling routes; commuting city travel between work, shops and home; and local routes for children to get to school. In combination, they would provide a comprehensive network facilitating seamless cycling from the front door to a neighbouring city and back. And they did all of this at a relatively modest cost.

By the 1990’s the Netherlands was ready for a second wave of cycling support, predicated on the value that all traffic fatalities are unethical. They introduced the idea of Sustainable Safety in the hope of making cycling not only accessible, but genuinely safe. 

The five principles of Sustainable Safety are basic. All roads should be functional, and everyone should know what they are for, so there is no confusion between a local route in a town centre and a rat run. Planners recognised that people travelling the same direction at similar speeds have fewer fatal accidents. So, they separated out cyclists from major through roads with high speed traffic and lowered speed limits on roads where space was shared. They made it clear to everyone what type of road you were on, not just by road signs, but by clear and consistent designs of those roads. For example, if a road is made of brick then the maximum speed is 30km/h. To help everyone understand how they should behave on roads, the state rolled out a national education programme. They also recognised that humans require forgiveness to be designed in, from lowering curbs to pre-emptively forgiving a vulnerable road user by slowing down and giving them space. 

Delft continues to experiment and adapt to become a better place to live. On a recent tour with mobility consultants, Mobycon, our Yorkshire-born guide* showed how the city has had to respond to the significant increase in demand for cycle storage with underground bike-parks at the train station. We rode across the new bi-directional roundabouts which prioritise a central ring of cycling and witnessed how cars waited on the roundabout. We also saw how new technology revitalised old discussions: how e-scooters and e-bikes required the government to re-think average travel speeds. Delft isn’t perfect. But, the principles that the streets should prioritise people and that cycling is networked at all scales, makes it highly liveable.

Setting my annual cycling goals is a balance between the weight of glory and the countermeasure of everyday life. Setting a national cycling goal is somewhat different. The Netherlands set out with the goal of making cycling an everyday mundane experience, of making it safe and routine, and, in doing so they’ve ended up with something glorious. If Vermeer were painting today, he’d probably choose the everyday beauty of someone cycling home with their shopping. On a dark and rainy Thursday afternoon in Delft it was enough to make a small group of tourists smile at the significance of everyday life done well.