We've only been here a few days. So we're still in the phase where you say things like:
‘Interesting.’
And what you really mean is: ‘Wait, what exactly am I not understanding here?’

Breathing space after the move

The bikes survived the move, but only just. So first things first: check the screws, oil the chain, inspect the tyres. Diagnosis: ready to ride, in the ‘theoretical’ sense.

With child 2 on board, we ride on three-quarters flat tyres to the nearest bicycle dealer. A quick stop, a professional glance, a shot of air from the air pump provided. That's all it took. Neither for the tyres nor for our happiness.

The big strip next to it

Then the first real lap.

Child 2 rides consistently on the pavement. Next to it: a cycle path. And one that doesn't look like an afterthought compromise. Wide. Clearly marked. A matter of course.

I point discreetly to the left.
Child 2 looks back in disbelief.
‘That's for bicycles? All of it?’

Yes. Apparently.

The car lanes next to it seem surprisingly modest in comparison. Not tiny. But... let's say: not dominant. You begin to suspect that priorities have been sorted differently here. Without fanfare. Simply structurally.

The shock afterwards

What we underestimated: wide cycle lanes attract cyclists.

And real ones at that.

People don't just roll along here, they ride. Fast. Purposefully. With clear hand signals. Those who stop indicate it. Those who turn announce it. Those who overtake do so decisively.

We, on the other hand: family mode. Slightly wobbly. Educational interjections. Existential discussions about brakes and gear changes.

Behind us, there is a regular whirring sound. No drama. No honking. Just this quiet, efficient matter-of-factness that traffic routes are being used.

Cycling here feels less like leisure and more like transportation. Almost as if it were – traffic.

Thursday, 11 p.m.

A few days earlier: Night-time action. One of the big bicycle bridges. Photo idea. Rain. 11 p.m., Thursday.

We thought: It'll be nice and empty. A bit of urban pathos in the drizzle. Maybe a photo in sepia?

Wrong.

There's traffic. Lots of traffic. People on bikes who obviously still have appointments, shifts, meetings or simply places to go.

Stop on the bridge? Difficult.
A few hours earlier, child 2 asked at the same spot: ‘Is there a bicycle demonstration here?’

No. This is everyday life. Apparently even in the rain. Apparently even late at night.

Normal shifts

We've only been here a few days, but you can see how quickly ‘normal’ shifts.

At home, the bicycle is often option B for most people. Or C. First think car, then consider alternatives.

Here, it seems to be the other way around. First bike or local transport. The rest follows.

The interesting thing is that people don't seem more ideological. Not more athletic. Not more missionary. They just seem to be on the move.

Perhaps it's less a question of morality than of availability. If paths are wide, they are used. If they are clear, people ride clearly.

We are still observing. Still marvelling. Still learning.

And rolling along – now with enough air in our tyres.