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My first bicycle
My first bicycle



Day 262: My Bicycle (Part One)

When the three of them came riding on a single bicycle in the middle of the night, I thought they were crazy. They had just stolen a bike and now they were going to kill themselves. They kept bumping into whatever was in their way. It was cold, very cold. The bike wasn’t actually stolen — they had found it abandoned, tied to a post in the middle of nowhere. Héctor grabbed the bike and challenged Manuel to a race. Manuel had just bought a second-hand bike at the Flohmarkt and now he always rode around with his “sword.” They were just killing time while we all waited for the tram that would take us to the other side of the river. When it arrived, the bike was left behind again, abandoned in the middle of the park on a November night. I refused to let it go. I went over, took the bike, brought it home, and stored it in the basement. It stayed hidden there until February, when a few days of good weather convinced me to take it out.

I hadn’t remembered it being so broken: a bent wheel, twisted handlebars, both tires flat, the chain rusted… I tried taking it to the supermarket, but it was impossible to ride. I could fix it… but it would be expensive. Every Saturday at the Flohmarkt they sell bikes for 20 to 40 €, and I wasn’t about to spend 50 € fixing a bike that wasn’t even mine.

So I decided to do a sociological experiment: I left the bike unlocked at my front door and waited to see how long it would take for someone to steal it. Kind of like a test of how safe the streets of Dresden are — and at the same time, the easiest way to get rid of it. Anyone can imagine how long it would last in Spain without a lock. Time went by, and the bike didn’t move. I went on vacation, came back, and the bike was still there. Probably because of the bad weather. Then the good weather came… and the bike still didn’t disappear. Finally, 3 months and 12 days later, my bike was gone. It had been stolen. At last!

Conclusion: The streets of Germany are safe — but spring had arrived, and I needed a bike.

Posted on 3 June 2006
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Day 268: My Bicycle (Part two)
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Day 257: Quique’s tribute