Why not.

Here's a short article I wrote for some pamphlet my study abroad program is finalizing. I don't know whether it will be edited, but this is the version I submitted. Thought you might like to read it. 

  After an especially active summer, I was not looking forward to the changes that would soon be made to my active lifestyle upon arriving in Paris. Swimming laps in the Seine was certainly out of the question, and I don’t possess the equipment to scale the Eiffel Tower without the use its stairs. All of us in the Sweet Briar France Fall 2008 group have managed to adapt our active lives to our new urban home, not at all like our sprawling American colleges and universities, and each in our own way.

As Paris evolves it grows less and less tolerant of automobile traffic and more and more comprehensive in its public transportation system. More accurately, it’s a dynamic, in which walking is considered a chief means of transit. Then there is the Vélib’ public bicycle system, available to just about anyone, and in my opinion, one of the most agreeable ways to get around and see the city. These unwieldy masses of steel bear the same chic quality as the Pompidou Center: the love it or hate it curse. If city bike riding intimidates you, know that if the French can do it in impeccable style, Americans can probably manage without risking their lives. The Paris Métro to the savvy and quick-footed urbanite soon becomes the replacement for both umbrellas and rain jackets. In this sense, it can at times be a great comfort, while other times it is nothing more than a series of rattling, high-speed sardine tins, sometimes with a similar odor. The RER is like the Métro, but with more class, higher speed, and less odor. I only consider taking the bus between the hours of 1 and 6 am when the subway is closed, but then again, why not take advantage of the empty streets; surely a Vélib’ stand can’t be far. Taxis are for the unadventurous.

Above all I prefer commuting to class on my bike, an old road bike I purchased in the city; never did such a junker feel like such a high-performance machine. It’s the best replacement to a cup of coffee I’ve ever been willing to try, though at the same time I would advise drinking one any time you think of getting on a bike in the city. I weave through traffic like a madman, leaving most two wheeled vehicles behind to gawk as I navigate spaces just wide enough for my shoulders to pass. As Salvador Dali once said, “There is only one difference between myself and a madman. I am not mad.” There is a real and present danger that keeps your instincts alert, but it’s a risk with real rewards.

Riding my bike in Paris has given me a sense of ownership of the streets. It is a city I traverse in full confidence and in all conditions. For those of you still reluctant to hop on a Vélib’, there are still the seven flights of stairs to climb up to the Sweet Briar Office at the Alliance Française.