Stepping off the train at Amsterdam Centraal, the first thing I noticed wasn’t the postcard-perfect windmills everyone talks about—it was the throbbing ache in my feet! You’d think a trip to the Netherlands would start with canals, bikes, and stroopwafels, but for me, it started with a quiet moment of foot pain on the station platform. Maybe it’s poetic in its own way: travel shows you new places, but it also shows you exactly how unprepared your body might be.
My study abroad program started in Antwerp, Belgium, a city full of cobbled streets, medieval guild houses, and, as it turns out, endless opportunities for walking. In just under a week, our class visited an impressive eleven museums. From Renaissance masterpieces by Rubens to experimental contemporary installations by Panamaranko, it was a whirlwind tour of Belgian art and history. The museums blurred together at times, but what stayed with me—aside from all the art—was the sheer number of steps it took to see them all.
According to my smartwatch, I averaged about 28,000 steps each day during those six days. At one point, I peaked at a ridiculous 37,000 steps—roughly 5.5 miles a day, sometimes more if I got turned around (which, let’s be honest, happened often when not with our professor). I always thought of myself as pretty active back home in Seattle, but the reality of museum-hopping across two countries put that confidence to the test.
To prepare for this academic marathon, I’d packed what I thought were the perfect walking companions: my well-loved Sketchers memory foam sneakers and my Pumas Super LIGA shoes. Back home, these shoes easily got me through long days running errands, climbing Capitol Hill, and making it to class in the U-district. I figured European sidewalks wouldn’t be all that different—famous last words.
What I hadn’t counted on were Belgium’s historic cobblestones, museum floors harder than marble, and the relentless pace of a class that didn’t waste a single minute. Every evening, as I collapsed onto my bed, I would stare at my smartwatch numbers in disbelief. The art was breathtaking, but so was the cumulative toll on my feet. I learned that “art fatigue” isn’t just about mental exhaustion; it’s very much a physical phenomenon, too.
Despite the sore arches and occasional blister, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. Walking so much meant seeing hidden alleys, cafés, and world-famous art. So yes, when I finally stepped onto Dutch soil, my feet were begging for mercy—but my mind was racing with everything I’d seen and learned. And as for the windmills? Maybe I’ll finally spot them over the next few weeks of the study abroad as I travel the city by Bike.
