A few days ago my girlfriend needed to get to the other side of town. She needed to get there in about 20 minutes, and for one reason or another she couldn’t take her own bike.
“What ever shall we do?” she despaired, half-fainting as the back of her hand met her forehead.
“Fear not pumpkin,” I replied heroically, rising from my seat and gesturing towards my bike, “for I can give you a lift”.
Having lived in Amsterdam for the past year, this solution was both obvious and intuitive to me. Giving bicycle lifts was STANDARD PRACTICE in the Netherlands, and it is such a common occurrence as to be an almost mundane part of everyday life for the typical Dutchman.
Look, it’s not even a thing:
I offered to give my girlfriend a lift because I love giving lifts to people. Even though, as the ‘driver’, you are taking responsibility for your passenger’s welfare, it’s still a really fun way to get around once you’ve got the hang of it. And it’s not particularly difficult, see:
At any rate, giving her a lift would provide an opportunity to test out my hub gears and roller brakes with a ‘loaded’ bike.* So we saddled up and hit the road.
We’d done this a million times in Holland, and were familiar with the dynamics of travelling with a 2:1 ratio of humans to bikes. That said, and in spite of the fact that we were in a hurry, my girlfriend is kinda important to me, and so I was cycling with all the heightened awareness and care of a new parent. In addition to this, if ever I do anything even vaguely dangerous on the bike I am met with the alarm call of “Egg on board! Egg on board!” because a few years ago I referred to her a ‘precious egg’ and she reasoned that “we wouldn’t want to endanger an egg of such rare and exquisite value by cycling dangerously”. Oh, no no.
But alas, I digress.
The bike itself performed admirably. The sturdy steel frame held everything together and felt just as solid and responsive as usual (most bikes tend to feel increasing like a wet noodle as you add weight to them). Even Edinburgh’s hills were no match for the 8-speed Nexus hub, and although I will admit that it did require a substantial and sustained effort to get us up some of the bigger hills, I would also add that this was only because we were in a hurry – had we been out for a simple joy-ride on a sunny afternoon then I would have dropped it into first gear and just pootled along a walking pace. The Shimano roller and coaster brakes also performed superbly; even when we were going downhill there didn’t seem to be any loss of power due to overheating (a common problem with older versions).
The last thing that I want to mention about our journey is that although we did turn a surprising number of heads (two people on a bike – is it really so novel?), I can happily report that people seemed pretty positive about us. For the most part we were seen for what we were: just a guy giving a girl a lift – albeit in a rather ‘eccentric’ fashion by UK standards. Quite a few people even thought we were cute, and (according to Kristina) one girl quite openly chastised her boyfriend for never doing anything so romantic (sorry dude). Others – a minority – looked on with disapproval, but the unfamiliar is often greeted with suspicion and distrust, and I’m sure that they’ll catch on eventually.
All things considered it was a great experience. Of course, it would have been better if we’d had segregated cycle paths, better quality road surfaces, and more considerate drivers, but I will address those issues elsewhere. The point is, we did it: we brought a little bit of Dutch cycling culture to the streets of Edinburgh and it was fine. We’ll keep it up, and I’ll keep you posted.
* please don’t tell my girlfriend that I referred to her as a ‘load’. She’s really very svelte.
- “I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike…..” (letsridebirmingham.wordpress.com)
- Dutch City Hailed as Most Bike-Friendly (outsideonline.com)