La Petite Reine
Yep, the French call the bike, the cycling world, "La petite Reine" - the little queen! Surprising isn't it? We don't have a reputation for loving the royals (except for tourism!) but apparently the expression comes from Wilhelmine D'Orange-Nassau, queen of Holland (1890-1948) who at the age of 10 still apparently rode her bike in the capital. The other explanation is that the expression maybe comes from a book written by Pierre Giffard (writer and reporter, one
of the first sports journalists) called La Reine Bicyclette (The Bicyle Queen) which talked about the Little Queen and of which the cover was a lady and a bicycle. Well whatever the origin... La reine est morte... Vive "la petite reine"!
And re-yep the French, my little chumps, love the bicycle. They love it so much that they created the biggest (or one of the biggest) bicycle race in the world Le Tour de France. This is an institution, a proper institution. This race is the quintessential of France. If you want to visit, understand France, speak French, then take your sleeping bag and tent and join "la grande boucle" (the "big loop", the nickname of Le Tour). Go for the mountain bits, they are truly incredible. It got bigger after the war, people on the roads picnicking, camping, kissing... Yvette Horner standing up on an open van playing the accordion... La France, la belle France. It's an amazing event and I mean it.
Years ago I did a short report for BBC about Le Tour, choosing a specific angle; we followed the mobile weather station, which is basically a van with special equipment available for the riders/coaches/press - the weather is also part of the Tour, and this was one of the most exciting experiences I ever had. The van has to open before the departure and be at the arrival before the riders... and to be ahead avoiding the Caravane (the followers - crew/teams/sponsors/medical/
Yep my little chumps French love their bikes. As a child I think I probably have the same memories as an English child. My first bike was for Christmas at 10 years old, a present from Santa obviously, but helped by my godfather! A Mini Vélo as we called it at the beginning of 70s, the first bike which could be folded! A white mini vélo for a small "queen", a photo next to the Xmas tree, a big smile... probably just like millions of the other children in the world. But to me as a French person, something major was about to happen. This was a very special French moment, a moment where I was about to touch, to experience what I had learnt for years at school and indirectly at home. At the first ride, my first pedal push, I understood what my History teacher was trying to explain to us. I suddenly understood what Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité (Liberty, equality, fraternity) meant.
Yes, indeed, the Republican principles could certainly be applied to the bike. I understood in a flash what my grandfather was talking about his youth, about the first "congés payés" (paid holidays where people were riding on the coast and camping for the first time), what my father, a simple worker in a factory, was trying to give me as a moral conduct. I understood how my mother felt when she was coming back from work (from the same factory as my father) on her bike; big smile, beautiful legs, rosy cheeks! Yes, at the first pedal push I understood what Liberté (liberty) means... Liberté chérie! I could touch it, I could feel it! Freedom to fly, freedom of independence, freedom to "travel" on my own, probably 500m from home!
I always used my bike to see my friends, my grandmother, to go to the conservatoire (music school) - that was the best. Singing loudly the piece I was practicing, waltzing graciously (well I like to think!!) or turning in cadence! That feeling of the wind on my face, the speed in my hair, this lightness which takes you over when you are riding. You can't beat that moment where you can almost touch life itself! Liberté!
Equality - almost everybody can ride a bike (although for some disabled people might be very difficult or even impossible). Fraternity - well, the cycling world is a wonderful way to get together, to fight the social barriers, a wonderful bridge for friendship! No need to prove it, this fantastic blog and my relation with "cette incroyable Bethany" (this incredible Bethany) speak for themselves. And this feeling of Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité never, ever vanishes. This is a rare direct link with our childhood.I still ride a bike ... no not my mini vélo! My first UK Bike was a blue Raleigh, bought second hand for £10! I loved it - it was slightly too high and I needed to be on my extreme tiptoes, but who cares? I was riding through the park, to go to my English school, to do my shopping, to visit my new "home". And then to take my son to his school on foggy mornings, Antoine at the back describing what he could see while we were riding - "walking heads" in the mist, leaves suspended in the air, squirrels racing with us and... deer popping from bushes. I didn't know that in my park lived such creatures - well, it's amazing what you can see riding a bike! And years later nothing has changed, I'm still riding my bike for my "daily" life. I like to feel the seasons on my bike and even though I didn't use it for the last few weeks, I look forward to jumping back on my saddle.
But my little chumps, attention... I must confess, I'm a terrible rider... not like Bethany... even thought I did improve hugely. I don't anymore ride on the pavement, I use lights, proper lights, at the front, back, on my arms, I stop where I'm supposed to stop, I use my arms to indicate my turns, I use my bell to be seen... Oh! I know you maybe puzzled why I'm so proud of such banal common sense. But don't forget my little chumps not only am I French - I'm from the South, meaning that discipline and security are not an issue. Well, on my list above one thing is cruelly missing... I know... I know... the helmet... Well it's hard to fight with your nationality and even if France also made huge progress in terms of security, some points are still... euh... almost taboo. Come on, everybody knows that a helmet "Ca fait tête d'oeuf" (it makes you look like an egg) and it will be a disaster for my hairdo, even I don't have a particular haircut, just long hair! Yes I agree it's pathetic, but do you think I will still feel this freedom on my face as much as feel it without a helmet? What do you reckon?
Allez my little chumps... Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité... Pédalez!
No comments:
Post a Comment