Before it became one of Amsterdam’s biggest camera magnets, The Bulldog No.90 mural was just a plain white wall on a canal. Nobody’s credited with saying it, but a wall is only as good as what you dare to put on it.
Number 90 Oudezijds Voorburgwal wasn’t born famous. It was just bricks and mortar, and front row to the hustle, bustle and freaky nature of Amsterdam over the centuries. It was a long time until tourists came in their droves. With their camera phones, they take all those selfies that look more stoned each time they see them. It was just another Red Light shop next to a peep show: three windows wide, easy to miss unless you were looking for Porno.
When The Bulldog Amsterdam first opened its doors in the mid-70s, the outside of the shop was nothing to write home about. It was a blank canvas. The real action was inside: joints, laughter, and a new type of Amsterdam bubbling under the radar and away from prying eyes. But in the spirit of keeping things in the family, Henk reached out to his friend and The Bulldog regular to spice things up a bit. Henk didn’t want the front to be an advertisement for his shop; he wanted it to be an artwork that would stand the test of time. There was only one man to the task; his name was Harold “The Kangaroo” Thornton.
Who Was Harold "The Kangaroo" Thornton?
You couldn’t miss Harold. Even in Amsterdam, a city full of freaks and long-haired geniuses, he stood out. Long white hair like a wizard who’d been kicked out of art school. Spectacles that looked like they belonged to a cartoon. Cardigans covered in paint, not because it was a look, but because he was always painting.
Born in Sydney, Australia, in 1915, Harold Leslie Thornton had already made a name for himself back home before he flicked a fleck of paint on the 90. Harold had a talent for winding up the establishment in Australia and declared himself the greatest genius who ever lived. By the time he landed in Amsterdam in the 70s, he was already a cult figure with a suitcase full of brushes, a love of LSD, and absolutely no intention of living an everyday life.
He found a second home in The Bulldog 90, now known as The Bulldog The First. Not just because Henk sold good hash, but because the vibe was a good fit. Only the rules that mattered. No hard drugs, no booze and zero aggression. Just people doing their thing and not apologising for it.
Harold didn’t ask for commissions. He offered himself like a force of nature. Loud, wild, prolific. He’d paint your jacket if you stood still long enough. So when Henk said, “I want the outside to reflect what’s inside,” it wasn’t a design brief. It was a challenge. And Harold took it personally. That was the start of The Bulldog No.90 mural.
The Bulldog No. 90 Mural
No one really told Harold where to stop, or he didn’t know how to do so. Mistake or the first stroke of genius? That depends on how you feel about acid-bright murals featuring flying dogs and third eyes. It started with the request for a cool sign. That’s all Henk wanted at first. Harold stepped outside with a brush and never really came back in. He painted the wall. Then he painted around the wall. Then the building.
What was once a blank white canvas in De Wallen was now a full-blown psychedelic mind-melter slapped across a 17th-century canal house. Wild lettering, cosmic faces, blues that burned under UV light, and all sorts of wonders were tucked into the chaos for stoned time travellers to find. If you looked long enough, you’d spot Henk, the dog, Amsterdam, and maybe yourself, depending on what you’d just smoked.
And it didn’t happen overnight. It grew in layers, like good hash. Tourists think it was always there, locals watched it blossom like colourful moss, messy, impossible to remove, and oddly beautiful. Harold treated the bricks like canvas building blocks and the coffeeshop like his gallery. Rain or shine, tourists or cops, he’d be out in the flow, there adding something.
By the time he was done, if he was ever really done (art is not finished, it’s abandoned), The Bulldog wasn’t just the first coffeeshop. It was the coffeeshop. People came for the cannabis, sure. But they took pictures of the wall, barely able to believe what they saw.
Art, Attitude & Legacy Collide
Harold didn’t just leave his mark on the wall; he immortalised himself with a self-portrait somewhere in the mural, painted in the same acid-fried palette as the rest of it. Grinning. Watching. As if he knew the whole thing would become iconic one day, and wanted to see it for himself.
But the mural wasn’t just Harold showing off. It was him capturing the ethos of The Bulldog: rebellious, fun, and loyal. The Bulldog wasn’t trying to be a brand back then; it was simply being itself. Then, with every stroke of Harold’s brush, it became one of the most recognisable locations in Amsterdam. The No.90 is one of the most photographed sites in Amsterdam. Think about that for a second. In a city with some of the most stunning sites in Europe, The Bulldog First and Harold’s mural take centre stage.
The artwork on the wall turned The Bulldog into a landmark without saying a word. The façade became a symbol for Amsterdam’s tolerance, creativity, and chaos, all wrapped in the face of a grumpy dog and a painter who dressed like a wizard and swore like a sailor. And it stuck. Long after the paint dried. Long after Harold stopped adding new layers, the wall stayed a beacon, as the cannabis culture caught up.
It's gonna Live Forever. The Bulldog No. 90 Mural
Harold’s no longer with us, but he lives on through his work. The colours still punch, the energy still pulls people in. And that’s the thing: Harold didn’t just paint a mural. He gave The Bulldog a face that matched what Henk and his friends were trying to do.
Today, you’ll find that same spirit in everything The Bulldog does, from coffeeshops to TB seeds. We’re not here to follow trends. We’re here to grow a legend. Grow cannabis the same way Harold painted: like it means something, as if you have something to say. So whether you’re hunting for the perfect phenotype or standing outside No. 90 taking it all in, remember where it started. A wall. A brush. And the greatest genius that ever lived.
Did You Know? Amsterdam’s Red Light District Is More Than Red Lights
Did you know The Bulldog First sits in the shadow of the Oude Kerk — a medieval church consecrated in 1306 and widely cited as Amsterdam’s oldest surviving building. So that Harold Thornton colour-bomb is basically happening next door to eight centuries of stone, stained glass, and tourists pretending they’re here “for the architecture”.
