I have a love affair with my bike. Or to be more precise, I have love affairs with several bikes on two different continents.
There’s the red boy’s bike I rode across the sunflower-infested fields of France. Trustworthy and reliable but slightly clunky. The green girl-frame abandoned in a three story ruin in the southern mountains due to relationship problems. The foldable bicyclette I flirted with and left with a friend near Toulouse. Then there’s a long series of Australian biikes, all secondhand or built from parts, culminating in my present partner. She’s blue with a beautiful basket and racing tyres. We have politics and sport in common and enjoy long rides in the countryside. Although she dreams of travel, I’ll probably have to leave her when I return to Europe.
Biking in France: photo copyright Jeni McMillan