One of the first things that strikes visitors to the Netherlands, is the sheer number of bikes. Parked, they adorn the entrances of schools, supermarkets, and churches. There’s a morning rush hour on the cycle paths. Groups of school children riding and talking on their way to and from school is a familiar sight. In short, bikes are as much part of the country as cheese, coffee and water management.

This is what Corianne Ferraby was used to. Although growing up on a farm in the countryside, she did less than her city counterparts, there was still a ‘fair amount of cycling’ in her daily life. Her primary was a twenty minute ride away, and upon going to a secondary school in Gouda, a forty minute ride to the train station became a regular aspect of her life. Often ‘wet and windy’, it was gruelling, perhaps, but an idealistic dream for many.

‘Utrecht,’ Corianne tells me, ‘was bike heaven’. She lived there for four years after her English degree, whilst working as a teacher. A small, compact city in the centre of the Netherlands, Utrecht is known for its medieval centre, and its livability. The city’s streets, lined by canal houses with a carpet of cobbles, would not be complete without its bikes .

East London may have a canal or two, but it’s less famous for bikes and cobbles. When she moved to Mile End fourteen years ago, Corianne bought her first English bike. But it rarely left the Zone Two balcony.

‘It just didn’t feel right’. The few cycle paths that did exist, had a habit of coming to an abrupt end. While there was little awareness and culture of cycling, there was even less proper infrastructure. The capacious Dutch cycle paths were clearly a foreign concept, and the occasional cyclist was a surprise to unsuspecting drivers. When in Holland she’d have cycled, in Mile End Corianne felt she had to walk.

Now living in Redbridge with three young children, cycling has become more of a day-to-day habit. It’s a quick and eco-friendly way of getting to school or the park, but still doesn’t feel entirely safe. Although she feels ‘guilty’ about it, her children mainly stick to the pavement. It feels a world away from her own childhood, and the family is reminded of the differences when they return to her parents’ home.

But Corianne believes there is hope, and points to the evident improvements in the locality. At her children's’ school, the streets around are closed to traffic during the drop off and pick up times, meaning that families feel far safer walking or cycling, and they’re encouraged to live an eco-friendly lifestyle. Even in the last few years there are far more bikes in Mile End - Corianne (jokingly) points to the fairly recent proliferation of hipsters, along with the money invested in more cycle lanes - all of this creates a growing awareness of cycling and thus, a virtuous circle that gets more wheels turning.

In Holland Corianne credits the fairly significant amounts of money that have consistently been poured under the tires of their bicycles. It is, of course, one of their priorities, and something they have now become renowned for. Their priorities are demonstrated in their law - considerate cyclists are encouraged to feel safe through legal clauses that mean that an accident is never seen in the courts as ‘their fault’. In a society where cycling is made safe, and most people are both cyclists and drivers, this works well. The country has been built for its bikes for a long time, and it's a journey Britain only seems to be beginning.

Nevertheless, ‘it is a dream of mine,’ Corianne says, ‘that my children can cycle along the roads without me having to worry’. Through each increasingly well planned cycle-path, this is being realised.