A route I would love to cycle? Around the Burj Khalifa.
You would think human beings would all take to cycling like ducks to water because we, like cycles, are bipedal (get it? No? Hint: two feet, two pedals).
Maybe some people do. I, however, was not one of them.
Even though I’d happily ridden around as a kid on a cycle with training wheels and a white basket, I couldn’t figure out how to balance on just two, thin circles of rubber. What if I fell and hurt myself?
So, for the longest time, I didn’t even bother.
Then, the summer after I turned 16, my mother bought me a cycle. I named her Berenike, after a character in a book about Cleopatra I’d just downloaded off Gutenberg. She is blue, for the most part, and has tires that are in constant need of air.
For a week or so, my sister held the back of the bike and walked along behind me as I struggled up and down the road that leads to our house. Finally, on Palm Sunday, I rode without any assistance or support.
It was pretty darn awesome! And scary. But so much cooler than not being able to propel myself forward on a vehicle powered by my sweat and burned calories!
Since then, I have fallen from my cycle a couple of times, and then gotten back on. I even graduated to scooters and motorbikes a little later, though that lasted for just a little while.
I still can’t take turns very well on two wheels. That might be one of the reasons I prefer four wheels, and why both my licences (Indian, Emirati) are for cars.
Day 46: Favourite character from children’s lit.: Anne Shirley, her final days