Around The World--Until COVID-19 Struck

I'd been thinking about two holidays this summer.  One would have been a trip to a faraway place, like the ones I've taken to Greece, Southeast Asia, Italy and France during the past few summers.  The other would have been a bike tour that would have taken me out of this city but would have kept me, probably in the United States, definitely in North America.

In fact, I was ready to book the "exotic" trip a few weeks ago.  But, for whatever reasons, I decided to "sleep on it."

The next day, I read that one of the places I'd thought about visiting was under lockdown, and a cruise boat was quarantined in the area.  And then the travel restrictions spread across regions, countries and even oceans.

Even if everything goes back to "normal," I don't think I'll be taking the "exotic" trip this year.  For one thing, I can't count on travel restrictions being lifted or flights being restored. Also, I have to admit, I might be a bit leery of having to spend hours in enclosed spaces.

Marcia van der Meer in the Los Angeles International Airport

The bike trip may still be possible.  At least, that's what I think--or hope.  But I'm not counting on taking that trek, either, especially after reading about Marcia van der Meer and Bas Baan.

More than a year ago, Ms. van der Meer embarked on a round-the-world bicycle tour from her native Netherlands.  She crossed the Atlantic in a cargo ship, rode the length of South America and hitchiked from island to island in the Caribbean with American sailors before she arrived in Miami.  There, she met Mr. Baan and set out across the United States. 

Somewhere in the middle of their cross-country ride, they first heard about COVID-19.  "We thought, 'Ah, it's some kind of disease over there in China, you know," van der Meer recalls.  

But, as they rode across the western US, one part of the world--and the US--locked down.  Still, they thought that once they got to Los Angeles, they'd continue their journey to Japan.  Then the Land of the Rising Sun closed its borders to nonessential travel from the US and other places, and van der Meer's travel visa was about to expire.

Baan and van der Meer flew back to the Netherlands. For both of them, cutting their trip short was more than a disappointment.  "This is the culmination of years-long dreams, savings, banking time off and putting aside money," Baan explained. "I think it's a dream deferred."

Marcia van der Meer and Bas Baan, on their way back to the Netherlands.

For van der Meer, it's not only a "dream deferred" or lost savings:  Aborting her trip could also mean cutting her income considerably.  "I write books, I do presentations in theatres and everything afterward when I come home," she says. "If I cannot finish my trip, I don't know what will happen to my income." 

Still, she says, "I will do it."  She plans to "chill for a couple of years and "I will do another attempt to go around the world by bicycle."  

Will It Take A Virus To Bring Us Our Due?

During any crisis, actual and self-styled pundits weigh in about how said crisis will change some aspect of our culture, society or economy.

In that sense, the COVID-19 pandemic has been no different.  Wherever I tune, click or listen, someone is talking about how shutdowns and lockdowns will forever change the ways we live, work, eat, shop--and, yes, even make love.

Of course, it will be a while before we know which prognosticators are correct.  I hope that at least one of their forecasts comes true.  Specifically, it's one that appears in Tree Hugger.

That title--and the fact that I'm talking about it--is a giveaway that it has something to do with bicycles.  The opening line of Lloyd Alter's article sums it up:  They are not toys, they are transportation, and they can be a big help in this crisis.

Alter, however, is not merely making a prediction or expressing a hope.  Rather, he describes the way the definition of an "essential business" has evolved during the crisis.  He mentions that when Governor Andrew Cuomo declared a shutdown of "non-essential" businesses in New York State, he included bicycle shops--but not auto-related enterprises--in that category.  London Breed made a similar pronouncement when she ordred a lockdown in San Francisco, where she is the Mayor.  After pressure from folks like me, she and Cuomo revised their definition of "essential" businesses to include bike shops.  Not only is cycling one of the few outdoor activities in which one can engage in a dense urban area while keeping a safe "social distance", some essential workers, like food deliverers, use them to perform their jobs while others, like hospital employees, are using them to get to their jobs as trains and buses become more crowded due to service cutbacks.

As Alter points out, this crisis might finally show that bicycles aren't just a viable alternative to other forms of transportation; they should be considered integral parts of transportation planning.  Even after the virus is "defeated," many people will be reluctant to return to commuting in trains, buses or other shared vehicles.

That said, as I mentioned the other day, some shops (including one of my favorites) have chosen to remain closed, or to see customers only by appointment.  I understand their decision, just as I am happy that some shops have remained open.

Where Has The Rider Gone?

Had you fallen asleep, say, a month ago and awakened today, you might check your calendar to be sure that it is indeed Wednesday, not Sunday or a holiday.   Your favorite stores, restaurants and public venues are closed, or open for only a few hours.  And there's practically no motorized traffic on the streets, save for men--almost all of them are men, and immigrants at that--delivering food on motorized or electric bikes.  

I also notice, surprisingly, fewer people on bicycles.  Since cycling is still allowed, as long as cyclists keep their "social distance" (2 meters or 6 feet), this is somewhat surprising.  Also, I would think that some people who still have to go to work might ride bikes, whether because the buses or trains they normally take are running less often or not at all, or because they wouldn't want to get on a bus or train--or share a car with anybody.

But the Citibike racks are close to full, and bikes that are normally parked overnight have remained on the streets for weeks.  I wonder whether their owners ride only to work or school, or are too scared to go out. (I've heard more than a few people say they planned to shut themselves in this week.)  Or--might they be sick, or worse?

Across the street from that Schwinn chained to the lightpole, I saw a sign that it is indeed early spring:

As the cliche goes, life springs eternal, even in the face of disease and death.