Someone stole my BBC broadcasting bike - it's like losing a friend

Anna Holligan's bike meant a lot to her and other people

I was planning an ordinary afternoon out - bags packed, ready to roll - when I bounded downstairs and was hit by a jolt of disbelief.

The space where my cargo bike should have been was empty, and the double lock that had bolted it to my Amsterdam apartment wall was hacked.

My daughter darted between the other bikes, convinced someone must have moved it, but no, it was gone.

With cycling deeply embedded in daily life here in the Netherlands - part of the "Dutch DNA", as we say - I have no car, so used my bike for everything, from the school run to a shopping trip.

This was no ordinary bicycle. My colleague Kate Vandy and I retrofitted it to become a mobile broadcasting studio, which we named the Bike Bureau. I started "Dutch News from the Cycle Path", a reporting series born on the school run after my daughter asked me: "Why don't you just tell people the news now?"

The bike allowed me to reach breaking news scenes and broadcast live from anywhere, my daughter by my side, showing that working motherhood could be visible, joyful and real.

The bike served as a mobile broadcasting facility to go live on the BBC

It opened doors to collaborations, awards and a community of people who saw themselves in our story.

I have zero expectation of getting the bike back, and searching for it has proven fruitless. I called the police immediately and they opened a case, but closed it shortly afterwards because of a lack of evidence that would help find the thief.

People online and in my local community have rallied round to try to find it since I put out an appeal. Neighbours asked if I was okay, telling me they loved to see me enjoy their bike lanes and see their city from my foreigner's perspective.

But why, my daughter asked, do so many people care that our bike was stolen?

A life-hack and so much more

Colleagues and friends responded to my Instagram Reel about the theft. Legendary BBC camerawoman Julie Ritson called my bike a blueprint for the future of journalism. Others said it was a relatable life-hack that showed how one person can manage motherhood and career, and inspired them to rethink what's possible with a cargo bike.

It was solar-powered, cutting the need for satellite trucks with heavy equipment and the pollution that mode of transport brings.

Research last year from the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism shows audiences are not only interested in climate change news - they are particularly engaged by stories that highlight individuals taking empowering action in response to the crisis.

Some people have expressed surprise that "this kind of thing" would happen in the Netherlands. What they may not realise is that bike theft is endemic here. Last year, more than 86,000 bikes were reported stolen in the Netherlands, up 1,000 compared to the year before, and 10,000 more than in 2022, according to police figures. Authorities say a rise in reports may have contributed to this.

Most bikes stolen are stripped for parts or sold on. My e-cargo bike cost nearly €5,000 (£4,200) - more than our old car which I sold.

I paid for the bike, so the BBC has undergone no financial loss.

What it really bought me was independence - and in a way, losing it is like losing a friend. Aside from the impact on my own lifestyle, that bike gave my daughter a magical, nature-filled childhood: picnics in the dunes, detours to see highland cows, fairy lights in winter, breezy rides to the beach in summer.

The theft has sparked conversations about urban safety, cycling infrastructure, and the burdens mothers still carry. But it's also a testament to the community we've built and the power of sharing authentic stories from the saddle.

I might not get my bike back, but no one can steal what it gave us all.