Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

LE VELO

It’s true: once you learn to ride a bike, you can never un-learn.

I had serious reservations about not being able to cycle here in France.  My cycling days came to an end in 1990 after I outgrew my one and only childhood bicycle.  I can claim with certainty that I did not lament the demise of my blue BMX, and certainly did not envy my few friends at high school that did cycle to school.

Naturally cycling was not high on my priority list once my career was ensconced in the glamorous world of a chef in a game lodge, and once I had escaped the beauty of red-dust roads, angry elephants and roaring lions, well, cycling never did obtain top priority in my life.  Not even when Anton cycled across my path.  He tried to give me a bicycle back then, so that I could exercise, but it became a dust collector, so I made him take it away.

Cycling is a big part of my hubby’s life.  At one stage, his truly real friends were the guys he mountain-biked with, and while I might not have trekked up the Magoesbeskloof mountains with him, I certainly did enjoy getting soaked in a tent while waiting for him to finish a few races- back in the day, pre-Alex & Beth.  It’s a culture much like any other- whether you are motor-bike people, into horse activities, running- you get to a point where you notice it everywhere you look.  I have hundreds of Facebook friends who cycle, and while I secretly scoffed at my darling hubby’s passion (we never have less than 3 bikes in our garage, and he has more cycling shoes than social Saturday shoes), I really do enjoy the culture.

It was always on the peripheries of my day-to-day activities.  Until we came to France.  Until Anton bought me my first real adult, real bike.  Until my Alex made me realise how much cycling is necessary here.

The thing about Europe- or mostly anywhere that is not Africa, I guess- is that we almost have to cycle.  The city ensures there are adequate cycle paths everywhere to encourage it.  Although we have bought a car- it is mostly for shopping trips, and getting out of the city.  That said, Anton is in his element that he is able to cycle to work every day.  He cycles 12km’s to his office every morning, showers there, and cycles home every evening.  He loves it, in the height of summer, or even the depth of winter.  If he is feeling grotty, he will take the car, but it is seldom more than once a month.  He spends a fair bit of time servicing his bikes, and he currently has 3 downstairs (not including mine).

As for me, I have really tried to avoid using my bike.  Anton bought me an enviable pink 29 inch bike just after we arrived.  Soon after, I tried to mount the 5cm pavement, and came a cropper, obtaining a fabulous roastie.  Later, when I tried to go out cycling on my own, still figuring out how to grind my way through the gears, I crossed the parking lot across from our home, and the chain slipped off.  All attempts at solo cycling came to a…um… grinding halt.  From then on, I refused to cycle on my own, and was more than happy to walk to town, or take public transport.

Since Alex started cycling properly in January, she has not stopped bugging me about taking the bikes to school.  I am very quick to find an excuse- Beth not cycling is the obvious one, and I don’t have the skill to strap her on the back of my bike- she is not exactly fairy size, and I cannot keep the bike upright with her sitting behind me.  Mostly I was just really terrified of traffic and other people on the roads.

But Alex persevered, and I realised that being able to cycle around with the girls in tow would make life easier. Unfortunately thought, the rather weather beaten bike trailer somebody had loaned us has been returned to its owner at Easter, and I let it be, until about 6 weeks ago a friend offered me their barely-used bicycle trailer.

Well Anton made me promise that if we went to collect the trailer that I would have to use it, and could not leave it unattended, using public transport as an excuse.

My trip to school is just short of 3km’s.  There is a bicycle path for 80% of the journey- the first 500m is a mish-mash of cycling on the streets, up a one way street, crossing the tram lines, and finally into the park.  On the other side of the park we have cycle paths all the way down to school, and it should be easy enough.  My first week on the bike saw grey rain filled skies, and we got wet.  I was trés grumpy, and was quite ready to throw the towel in.  Since then it’s been brilliant and warm, and I am getting a cyclist tan!  The other problems are the mechanical glitches- a jammed brake disc (perhaps?), a trailer that was not fastened on well enough, and I am waiting for a flat tyre, which I can safely say, I will not be able to repair.

As a Mom though, it gets pretty scary.  Aside from worrying about your 6 year old crossing the path of pedestrians, and pissing them off, having them head across residential roads at speed makes my heart skip a beat.  I don’t know whether to have Alex cycle in front of me so I can see her, or behind me so that I can asses traffic, and determine where and when we go.  Added to this is the 17kilogram weight behind me in the trailer, and momentum becomes such a deal to me.

In the mean time, I have gained a fair bit of confidence while cycling, (got to school in less than 10 minutes this afternoon…) and I confess to becoming quite particular when other cyclists go against the norm- when cyclists don’t cycle in the correct lane I mouth off and swear at them under my breath.  I rant at the European school kids that block the cycle path outside the supermarket.  As for the city contractors, and their strips of road-works in the cycle paths, and the somewhat ignoramus chop that could not cycle a straight line in the correct direction today- well, thank goodness I am not a driver!