AUGUST 21, 2026 HOMELESSNESS In the shadow of the ring JEFFREY GROUWSTRA and ANKE VAN DER MEER Z! Z! is a street paper located in Amsterdam, Netherlands. Along the Amsterdam motorway, named Ring A10, lies a small tent camp, hidden from view. It is a Polish enclave, with "Polska" painted in pink on a tree. It's five o'clock on a sunny Monday afternoon, close to the river IJ. Behind the noise barrier, traffic pours out of the tunnel. The roar of the motorway contrasts with the greenery on the other side of the glass barrier, where rabbits dart off into tall grass and birds sing in trees. Between the leaves, the faint outlines of tents are visible. Less than a year ago, tenting in a place like this would almost certainly have meant a fine for the inhabitants. Between 2020 and 2025, the city of Amsterdam issued 381 fines to people sleeping rough. That ended in the summer of 2025. The city argues that fines do not solve homelessness but instead push people further into hardship. Other large Dutch cities like The Hague and Rotterdam still fine outdoor sleeping, though the policy is under debate there as well. A mobile outreach team from a local homelessness support organisation regularly visits camps like this. Along the ring road, behind the noise barriers, they regularly spot tents. According to one outreach worker, it is usually Eastern European labor migrants staying there. However, the fact that the police no longer issue fines does not mean the uncertainty has gone away. Eviction remains a constant risk, and in those cases, people often lose personal belongings, which can be devastating if documents like passports go missing. Outreach workers actively seek out rough sleepers to see whether they need help, sometimes bringing in a street doctor or a social worker. It is a kind of "guided street life," they call it. Then Marius, originally from Poland, pulls up on a mountain bike. "Follow me," he says, gesturing towards a narrow path into the woods. A laminated sign reading "entrance" hangs from a tree near one of the tents. Benedict has just crawled out of a small dome tent. Between the two larger tents, a tarp forms a makeshift living room, furnished with a few chairs and the familiar square IKEA side tables, crowded with ashtrays and coffee cups. "Four of us live here," Marius says. He is from Warsaw and spent the last 12 years in Paris. His English is filled with French words. "Life there was hard. I lived on the street a lot and did some time in prison too." He has been in Amsterdam for three months now, earning money by collecting cans and bottles for the deposit refund. The setup of the camp says a lot about how life here works. Laundry hangs between the trees, next to a towel slung over the handle of a hatchet. Firewood and tools are tucked among the trunks and bushes. An old metal safe doubles as a stool beside a camping table set with pots and cutlery. A shower tent stands a little further along. Almost everything at this improvised camp beside the motorway Ring A10 has been pulled from the trash and given a second life. Inside his tent, Marius sits on a mattress with crisp white sheets. He checks his phone, rummages through some belongings and reappears moments later with a stack of power banks. He is nearly out of phone credit, but keeping the phone charged matters more. "We are allowed to charge our phones at nearby businesses," he says. "People here in Amsterdam are a lot friendlier than in Paris." Marius has traded his shoes for house slippers. Benedict, also in slippers, offers him a pack of Texas Red House cigarillos. "Cheaper than regular cigarettes," GROUNDCOVER NEWS 9 he explains. The men say that the police mostly leave them alone, even though they keep an eye on the camp. "We had a kitchen fire not long ago, when we were barbecuing," Benedict says, pointing to a scorched patch of ground between the trees. “The police came by and warned us it could not happen again." The outreach worker adds: "It also happens that people try to keep warm with a small fire, and sometimes that goes wrong." In other words, sleeping outside is not without risks. As darkness falls, the camp's other residents drift back, one by one disappearing into their tents. The forest goes quiet, while behind the noise barrier, the traffic keeps moving. Courtesy of Z! / INSP.ngo Photos by Jeffrey Grouwstra and Anke van der Meer.
10 Publizr Home