Disclaimer: the above picture was not the bike I used in Oxford (unfortunately). Somehow over the course of a full year in which I spent more time on a bike than I ever thought I would, in which my beautiful, old and used, high handle-barred blue beauty of a bike became practically one with me, somehow I managed to not take one single picture of it nor with it. A tragedy. So the above picture will have to do. This is a collapsable bike that looks cool but I heard makes finding your center of gravity very difficult and in turn is not a smooth ride. My bike was a regular-sized “town bike” with old fashiony tall handle bars. It was my car, and I loved it.
Transportation in England taught me oh so many things. So many things, in fact, that there may be transportation lessons I, II, and III. We’ll see; this blog has a mind of its own. (In other words, I’m not the plan-aheady kinda type.)
Many people ride bikes in Oxford, and if you don’t ride a bike, you walk and take the bus occasionally. I knew about four people in England that owned cars, and when I managed to hitch a ride, I was always amazed at how a 25 minute cycle commute took only five in a vehicle. Cars made Oxford shrink. But my bike made Oxford an endless adventure. It brought the city to life. On my bike, I felt rain and wind, I learned that certain streets had certain smells (and potholes), the city was long and stretched out. The air at night was cold but dryer and the air in the morning always had a slight dampness that although refreshing did not get along with my hair. Often making my “beauty” attempts a little disastrous upon arrival–something I’ll expand on next post
Next time I will get into the actual lessons I learned from using this means of transportation. It will involve my hair and its tendency to get frizzy and how The Frizz reaches a whole new level when my hair is at the constant mercy of the elements and why I initially fought The Frizz and why I ultimately surrendered to The Frizz. You won’t wanna miss this.