Thursday, 14 August 2014

Your 30 stories: Number 6

Number 6: Cars (kind of)

I haven't done this in a while, mostly because I felt stuck with this subject. I've never had my own car, neither can I think of any special memories involving any cars. Basically, I'm not really a big fan of cars. I mean I guess they're handy and all, especially if you live on the countryside like I've been doing this summer, and you need to get somewhere. But that's pretty much my whole relationship with cars.

But since I've moved back to Uppsala, I've rekindled my love for bikes. Because everyone in this city loves bikes. It's kind of obvious why, isn't it? Cycling is hands down the best mode of transport. It's quick, it's easy, it's cheap, and it's good for the environment. What's there not to like? So I thought I'd write about the bikes in my life instead.

The first bike I have any memory of, I had for a very long time. I'm actually quite surprised how I could keep it for so long. I'm pretty sure it served me from middle school until the first years of university. Until one day, when I was going to get it from the city centre, where I had put it overnight because I was away. When I arrived to the spot where I had put it, I only found my broken lock and the basket I had hung on the back of it. Someone had stolen it. I was kind of heartbroken. I was so upset I didn't even pick up the basket from the ground, which annoyed me a bit when I managed to collect my feelings.

Luckily, it was summer and nearly the end of the term, which meant that all the exchange students who were going back home wanted to get rid of their bikes. So I bought a pretty blue story from a very sweet French girl, who kept telling me over and over again how good this bike had been to her and that she would miss it. She also told me she had named the bike Sylvia, after the Swedish queen.

I had Sylvia until I left for London last year, and now it's a bit of a mystery where she has gone to really. I was sure she would be at my mum's house, but she wasn't. After thinking long and hard about it, my mum and I decided we must have left her in Uppsala. Probably where I lived, but she could be anywhere really. So when I moved back here I looked for her there, but couldn't find her. I didn't really think she would to be honest, if you abandon your bike for too long somewhere in this town it gets collected by the police (I think?), or just taken. Wherever she is, I hope she is coming to good use to someone else. Would be a shame if she just got left in some dark and cold basement somewhere. Uh, I'm getting upset just thinking about it.

Anyway, luckily for me there are a bunch of bikes at my mum's house, so I ended up getting one of them that I've been using during the summer. I quite like it so far. Hopefully, it'll be with me for a long time, giving me lots of great memories.

And there you go, that's basically the story of the bikes in my life.

Bikes can also be used for signage



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