I'm baaack!
Oh, wait: That was an Austrian accent. Well, it's the country next door, anyway. Just like an American talking with a Canadian accent, eh? ;-)
All right...Now that I've offended Americans, Canadians, Czechs and Austrians, what's next? I guess I'll indulge in a cliche and say that I can't believe I'm back already. I felt like I was just starting to get the hang of cycling on cobblestoned streets on which half of the width was taken by tram tracks. And I was just starting to feel right on the bike I rode. It's really not a bad bike, for its intended ridership, anyway.
I haven't gotten on a bike since getting home last night in a veritable deluge. Today it's been raining on and off, and there's no place in particular to which I must, or want to, go. Riding in my usual settings will be a bit of a comedown--sort of like the sensation I felt after eating a really bad takeout meal the day after arriving home from a bike tour from France into Spain and back.
Yes, I miss cycling in Prague, even though it seems like less of a cyclist's city than New York now feels. But there is definitely a cycling scene developing; it's more or less where New York's cycling community was about twenty years ago. That is to say, for one thing, that most of the cyclists--at least the ones I saw--are young, though not children. And, like most Big Apple cyclists of yore (i.e., my youth), those Prague cyclists are riding either mountain bikes or road bikes that have been adapted in one way or another to city commuting. Back in the day, messengers and a few other "fringe" riders pedaled the sorts of bikes we now call "hipster fixies" (although we didn't have V-shaped rims available in colors to match our team kit!); I saw the same sorts of bikes in Prague.
Actually, those bikes are strangely appropriate for a city and country that are still in the process of creating and re-creating themselves from the detritus of its past and things that could scarcely have been imagined during that past. In other words, they're exactly the sort of bike one would, and should, ride to a music club adorned with psychedelic posters inside a Soviet-era nuclear bunker. (Yes, I saw such a place!). And, of course, said bike would be parked in a place like this:
Oh, wait: That was an Austrian accent. Well, it's the country next door, anyway. Just like an American talking with a Canadian accent, eh? ;-)
All right...Now that I've offended Americans, Canadians, Czechs and Austrians, what's next? I guess I'll indulge in a cliche and say that I can't believe I'm back already. I felt like I was just starting to get the hang of cycling on cobblestoned streets on which half of the width was taken by tram tracks. And I was just starting to feel right on the bike I rode. It's really not a bad bike, for its intended ridership, anyway.
I haven't gotten on a bike since getting home last night in a veritable deluge. Today it's been raining on and off, and there's no place in particular to which I must, or want to, go. Riding in my usual settings will be a bit of a comedown--sort of like the sensation I felt after eating a really bad takeout meal the day after arriving home from a bike tour from France into Spain and back.
Yes, I miss cycling in Prague, even though it seems like less of a cyclist's city than New York now feels. But there is definitely a cycling scene developing; it's more or less where New York's cycling community was about twenty years ago. That is to say, for one thing, that most of the cyclists--at least the ones I saw--are young, though not children. And, like most Big Apple cyclists of yore (i.e., my youth), those Prague cyclists are riding either mountain bikes or road bikes that have been adapted in one way or another to city commuting. Back in the day, messengers and a few other "fringe" riders pedaled the sorts of bikes we now call "hipster fixies" (although we didn't have V-shaped rims available in colors to match our team kit!); I saw the same sorts of bikes in Prague.
Actually, those bikes are strangely appropriate for a city and country that are still in the process of creating and re-creating themselves from the detritus of its past and things that could scarcely have been imagined during that past. In other words, they're exactly the sort of bike one would, and should, ride to a music club adorned with psychedelic posters inside a Soviet-era nuclear bunker. (Yes, I saw such a place!). And, of course, said bike would be parked in a place like this:
Welcome back, Justine! I enjoyed reading your posts from overseas.
ReplyDeleteNow, you can get ready for the hurried American life :)
Peace :)