In a sort of response to a suggestion Steve A (of DFW Point to Point fame), today I am turning this blog over to a "guest," Milena Svoboda. She has just recently arrived in New York from Prague, and offers some of her observations about cycling and other things in New York.
I simply cannot comprehend such bright sunshine. We sometimes have days when there is barely a single cloud in the sky and you can see blue spread out above you, even brighter than the inside of the Hall of Mirrors. But even with my darkest sunglasses, which I bought just before I left Praha, I still had to ride with my eyes almost closed.
Naturally, the sun can never be as bright in Praha. We are exactly on the 50th parallel of latitude, as every Czech knows. On Google, it says that the 50th passes just below Winnipeg, Canada. For the contrast, New York just north of the 40th, which passes through Minorca, Sardinia and near Ankara. Justine didn't know that; it is probable that most other people in America don't know that, either.
Now I understand why Justine got so lost in Praha. When all of your streets are straight lines, like they are in this city, it's so much easier to find out where you have to go. Back home, the streets wind round castles and churches; Justine says that when they build a new road here, they knock down people's houses.
How many Americans pedal on streets like this? That is the reason why they and Justine are always getting lost. No wonder they had the need to invent the GPS! Justine says that is the logical result of being in a country that was "discovered" by someone who got lost.
Anyway (Since I meet Justine, I begin many of my sentences with that word .) I felt like I was riding on a magic carpet. Where did they find all of this asphalt? Justine let me borrow the bike she just bought. It rides so fast and so smooth. It would much like to ride it in Praha:
It's a pretty bike. All of Justine's bikes are pretty. Everyone on this blog says so, too. I felt like I was floating above the castle when we rode along the river.
After seeing the river and the Hudson, I understand why American streets are so wide and straight. When I saw Justine, I knew she is from Angliecky or Americky because she carried a book called "Lonely Planet." In that book, it says that the Vlatva River winds through the heart of Praha like a question mark. I like that; it makes me realize that the Hudson and East Rivers rush, straight as these streets, through New York like two exclamation marks!
Soon I must return to Praha. I hope to return to New York some time soon; I was just starting to learn how to ride here. Justine said she was just starting to understand how to ride in Praha before she had to go home, too. She wants to come back; I hope she does.
So...Back in the good ol' USA, my Internet connection has been out for three out of five days. It's nice to be back in the technological leader of the world, isn't it?
OK, I'll end the gratuitous sarcasm. I guess I'm suffering from a kind of post-partum depression about my trip. I really want to be back in Prague--with at least one of my bikes, of course.
The weather has been a bit warmer than what I experienced in Prague, and it's been raining on and off, it seems, all of this week. Astoria's not a bad place to be, but when the skies are gray, I want a Gothic skyline. At least, that's how I feel now that I've seen Prague.
I must confess: I haven't been on my bike since I got back. I'm doing now what I did after each bike tour I took abroad, I guess. After cycling among scenery you wouldn't see in Brooklyn or Queens, and ending each ride with food they don't have here, it's kind of difficult to get used to the mundane--or, at least, what's mundane in your own life--again. I guess, though, once I start riding again, I'll appreciate seeing street signs I can read, not to mention asphalt instead of cobblestones and tram tracks.
Now, here's something you won't find in Queens:
This has nothing to do with cycling. Well, I guess it does, because it's about Prague and I did ride in Prague.
All right, you're not convinced that there's a connection. Do you care? You really are looking at this post to see this:
I mean, how can you beat a trip to Prague that includes two rainbows and a full moon on the final night? No wonder I enjoyed cycling there so much, even if I was riding a bike nothing like any I own over cobblestones and tram tracks, up and down hills.
After all of that, how could I not want to go back?
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:
Seeing the photos in my previous two posts, I think you can understand why I haven't been posting much. I'm taking in as much of this city as I can. And, now that I've been navigating it on bike, I'm coming home really tired. It seems that in order to get anywhere in this city, you have to climb a hill. Of course, that's one of the things that makes it so beautiful.
I've entertained thoughts of moving here. Talking to Spencer at City Cycles has made me think even more about it. I've also talked to three other Americans who live here, and all are happy, In fact, there's something about people generally that seems happier, or at least less stressed-out, than people in any American city I've seen. The Czechs themselves are reserved, but invariably helpful and polite. Plus, they almost seem to expect that you don't speak Czech, and if they know any English, they want to use it. Of course, if I were to move here, I would learn Czech, and possibly German. (I knew some of the latter at one time, but have lost it through non-use.)
What I'd have to do, of course, is get my bikes and cats over here. From what I've heard, the former would be easier than the latter. Then again, I guess that would be true if I moved to almost any other country. (When I lived in Paris, I didn't have cats, or any other pets.) But if people here could live under Hapsburgs (I've heard that people have been denied PhDs in European history because they and their professors couldn't agree on whether it should be spelled "Hapsburg," "Habsburg" or "Habsbourg.") and Nazis and Communists, I could do those things.
As far as work goes: I hope to do more writing for pay. And, of course, I could teach English: It seems that there's an almost insatiable demand for it here. Also, I'm told that people--particularly business people and students--want to learn other languages as well.
And, to top everything off, although the cycling community is still small compared to, say, German cities or New York, it's growing.
And how can you not love a city where you see bikes like these?
This one belongs to a young male concession-stand worker near the Lapidarium. He told me that the bike belonged to his grandmother, and he painted the fenders, brake rods and bottom bracket cups.
This Dutch Batavus tandem was parked near the Astronomical Clock. I don't know whether it belonged to a local resident, to some Dutch couple on vacation, or someone else. It looked interesting: It was lugged, and the rich brown paint looked new, as did the Sturmey Archer internally-geared hub in the rear and dynamo hub on the front.
I saw this one in a shop in Vinohrady, one of the city's loveliest residential neighborhoods. In the same shop, I saw a bike that confirms something I've long suspected:
Tell me it isn't a Dahon for the Czech market, whatever the label says. Down to the smallest details I could see, it sure looks like the Dahon I had. This confirms my suspicion that there are about a half-dozen, maybe ten, factories in Taiwan and China that are making about 99 percent of the bikes in this world. They just get sold under different names in different countries. As an example, I could see little difference between bikes from "Author", a common brand here, and ones sold in the US and other countries under Giant's name.
And then there was this gem in a fashion display in Stare Mesto:
It's a Czech-made Favorit. I think it's been repainted, as I don't recall any Favorits from back in the day in that color or paint scheme. Also,the brown Brooks saddle and bar tape are give-aways: Favorit bicycles came with their own brand of tensioned leather saddle (which was actually quite good) and all saddles--save for "banana" seats on "Sting-Ray"-type bikes--in those days were black.
Also from Favorit is this bike:
Yes, it's the one that's taken me over cobbletones, pebbles, dirt and pavement, and beside tram tracks as well as the Vlata River!
