Friday, October 30, 2026

City Tours

The Sex Museum Was Open But You Could Not Use The Toilet

Raymon Van Jaarsveld 5 min read
The Sex Museum Was Open But You Could Not Use The Toilet

The Day The City Ran Dry

Picture a packed attraction. Doors open, lights on, staff smiling. And every restroom locked. That's exactly what greeted visitors to one museum near Central Station last week.

Sounds like a joke, right? It wasn't. A water leak at Damrak set off a city-wide infrastructure scramble. Bigger than most people realized, too. Forty different locations lost their water supply at the same time.

Most of us assume a leak hits one building. This one didn't. The pipe ran deep — it fed a whole network of businesses, homes, even boats. When it failed, the ripple was instant. The city didn't shut down. But it definitely hiccupped.

A close-up view of a modern urban street corner where water is bubbling up from a cracked pavement surface. The water is clear and reflects the surrounding glass buildings. The lighting is bright daylight, highlighting the wet texture of the concrete and the urgency of the scene. The composition focuses on the source of the leak without showing any people or signs.

Who Lost What

Read the list of affected businesses and you're basically reading a map of the city core. Restaurants, offices, residences — all hit. The Sex Museum Amsterdam kept its doors open, with one major caveat. Staff told customers they could look at the exhibits but couldn't use the facilities.

Bizarre detail, isn't it? A museum devoted to human intimacy had to turn people away from the most basic bodily function there is. A nearby fry shop, Manneken Pis, was stuck too. No washing dishes. They served food, but the cleanup was impossible. The locals caught the irony.

Then there were the boats. Tour boats on the canals have fixed water connections. They aren't self-sufficient. When the main line went dry, their tanks didn't fill. Passengers sat on the water with no fresh drinking water. Small detail — but it matters for comfort and safety.

A view from inside a modern tour boat looking out at a canal. The water outside is calm and blue. Inside, the interior is clean and modern with white seating. The perspective is from a passenger seat, looking towards the bow. The lighting is natural and soft, creating a calm atmosphere despite the underlying issue of the water supply. No text or people are visible in the frame.

The Hidden Infrastructure

We rarely think about water until it's gone. In a city built on water, the pipes are the invisible backbone. Waternet, the local utility, got the call around noon. They found water bubbling up from the ground. The situation was controlled, but the shutdown was necessary.

Why cut water to forty places? Because the leak threatened the integrity of the main line. It was a precautionary measure. Better to lose water for a few hours than to have a major flood later. The city chose safety over convenience. Right call — even if it was annoying for the fry shop staff.

The fix wasn't instant. Monteurs worked through the afternoon. By evening, the water was back. Taps reopened. Boats refilled their tanks. The museum unlocked the toilet doors. Life returned to normal. But the memory of the dry taps lingered.

Why This Matters More Than You Think

Not a disaster, this. No one was hurt. No buildings collapsed. A manageable incident. But it highlights a vulnerability. Our infrastructure is old. It's complex. And it's shared. One leak can ripple out to dozens of users.

Think about your last trip to a major city. You probably didn't think about the water pressure. You just used the sink. You drank the tap water. It was there, invisible and reliable. This event made it visible. It forced a conversation about the systems that keep us running.

The Sex Museum story is funny. It's also a warning. We take our basic services for granted. When they fail, the impact is immediate. The fry shop couldn't clean. The museum couldn't serve its visitors fully. The boats were stranded without a basic resource. A small lesson in humility.

A wide shot of a busy city street with modern buildings and a canal in the background. The street is clean and well-maintained. The lighting is evening, with warm lights from the windows of the buildings. The scene is calm and orderly, contrasting with the earlier chaos of the water leak. The composition emphasizes the scale of the urban environment and the hidden infrastructure beneath it.

The Human Side Of The Leak

Behind the news reports are real people. A fry shop worker trying to wash dishes in a sink with no water. A museum staff member explaining why the toilet is closed. A boat captain worrying about his passengers. These are the human faces of a technical problem.

I've read plenty of articles about city infrastructure. Most are dry and technical. This one had a story. Characters. A conflict and a resolution. The fact that it involved a sex museum and a fry shop makes it memorable. It sticks in your brain because it's human.

We often judge cities by their landmarks. Their museums. Their canals. But a city is really its infrastructure. Its pipes. Its wires. Its roads. When those fail, the city reveals its true nature. This leak was a small test. The city passed. But it was a close one.

Lessons For Travelers

If you're planning a trip to a major city, remember this. Things can go wrong. The water might go off. The power might flicker. The internet might drop. It's not a sign of a bad city. It's a sign of a complex one.

Be prepared. Carry a bottle of water. Know where the nearest public restroom is. Understand that your comfort depends on a network of pipes and wires that can fail. Not a reason to be afraid. A reason to be aware.

The next time you drink a glass of tap water, think about the journey it took. The well. The pipe. The pump. The valve. And the risk of a leak. It's a small thing. But it's the foundation of modern life. Don't take it for granted. Ever.

The Bigger Picture

Cities are getting denser. More people. More businesses. More demand. Infrastructure built for a smaller population is now under more strain. We need to think about how we maintain it. How we upgrade it. How we prepare for failures.

This leak was a single event. But it's part of a larger trend. We're using more water. We're building more. We're demanding more. The pipes are getting old. The pressure is rising. We need to be proactive, not reactive. Fix things before they break.

It's not a perfect system. It never will be. But it works. Mostly. And when it fails, it's usually fixed quickly. The key is to remember that it isn't magic. It's engineering. And engineering can fail. That's not a bad thing. It's a fact. And it's a reason to be grateful when it works.

A view of a modern city skyline at dusk. The buildings are lit up with warm yellow lights. The sky is a deep blue with a few stars visible. The scene is calm and peaceful, representing the stability of the city despite the earlier incident. The composition is wide, showing the scale of the urban landscape and the harmony between the natural and built environments.

Final Thoughts

The water leak at Damrak was a minor event. But it had a major impact. It reminded us of the fragility of our systems. It showed us the human side of infrastructure. And it gave us a story to remember. The Sex Museum without a toilet. The fry shop without a sink. The boats without water.

It was a day when the city ran dry. But it was also a day when it showed its resilience. The water came back. The businesses reopened. The boats sailed on. Life went on. And we all learned a little more about the world we live in. A world of pipes and pumps and people.

So the next time you turn on the tap, pause for a second. Think about the leak that almost happened. Think about the museum that had to close its toilet. Think about the fry shop that couldn't wash its dishes. And then drink your water. It's worth it. It's always worth it.

Raymon Van Jaarsveld

Written by

Raymon Van Jaarsveld

I design public spaces that accommodate both residents and tourists, often working on temporary installations for tech festivals. I hold a MSc in Urban Design. My interest lies in the tension between commercial viability and civic space, particularly how short-term events reshape long-term neighborhood identity.

All articles by Raymon Van Jaarsveld