De Pijp is where the inner city eats. Within one block you can find a Surinamese roti counter, a Turkish bakery, a Syrian grill and a natural wine bar, and terraces come out the moment the sun does and stay out until it is genuinely cold. The Albert Cuyp market runs east to west across the middle of it, the Sarphatipark provides the green, and the old Heineken brewery anchors the northern edge.
The streets around them are narrow and the brick tenements tall, thrown up in the 1870s and 80s for workers pouring into a growing city, and built for speed and profit rather than for living in. That cheapness is why the district turned out as it did: low rents kept it available to students, artists and successive waves of immigrants, and it is now the most mixed quarter of the inner city. Late afternoon is the hinge. The market packs up, the bars fill, and the neighbourhood switches from shopping to sitting without any obvious signal.