Raintastic

Autumnal rain on the bike lanes. A stylish Copenhagen Supermum and her boy in the rainy afternoon rush hour.


Another supermum, 'sans enfant' crossed my path.


'Chic' is, and always will be, a relative term. Nevertheless, a splash of colour on a rainy isn't a bad thing.


Red rain poncho, heavy load on the Short John.

Copenhagen Goodness

Last Friday I was heading out to a friend's place for a bit of red wine and FIFA on the Xbox when I happened upon this charming, lovely couple in the twilight near the bridge over the harbour. I stopped them and asked if I could film them for a promotional cycling video I've been asked to make. They obliged. They are everything that is cool about cycling in Copenhagen. Relaxed, smiling, sweet and just plain cool.


Two Cyclists Surveying The Boulevard


The first photo is of one of our famous Weather Girls - Vejrpigerne - who stand atop the Richshuset Building on the City Hall Square. I was up there filming for the promotional cycling video and the Cycling Girl is just gorgeous even after over 75 years. We have an earlier post about her here. The other photo is a modern version of the Cycling Girl surveying the same Boulevard from street level. Cool, casual, Copenhagenesque.

Promoting Cycling Positively

This photo of morning rush hour reminds up of a quote from the novel Gudrun, by Johannes V. Jensen in 1936:

"And like a large home Copenhagen begins the day's work. Already down on the streets is one at home, with loose hair, long sitting rooms through which one travels socialbly on a bike. In offices, in workshops, in boutiques you are at home, in your own home, one large family that has divided the city among itself and runs it in an orderly fashion, like a large house. So that everyone has a role and everyone gets what they need. Copenhagen is like a large, simple house."

Over at Copenhagenize.com we've been having a series of posts about how or how not to promote cycling positively and showing different examples. We here at Copenhagen Cycle Chic are proud to live in a city with such fantastic safety statistics. The majority of Copenhageners, when polled, say that they feel secure and safe in the traffic. We know we certainly do. We are also proud to lead the way in showing how cycling in Copenhagen is safe, effortless and healthy. Promoting cycling as it should be promoted.

We have a good mention in today's Irish Times, which is readable online here. Doing our bit for the cause.

Our Cycling Legends

Copenhagen Cycle Chic will be present at the world's largest bike industry fair in Germany - Eurobike - in partnership with Velorbis. We'll have a massive wall-size banner at the Velorbis stand and we whipped up these flyers for the sports geek crowd. "Our cycling legends dress differently than your cycling legends". A tribute to the everyday dress code of Copenhagen cyclists and a nod to the iconic and historical figure of the Danish cycling girl. There is nothing quite so opposite to spandex than heels.

A Hub of Copenhagen Cyclists

We coined this phrase a while back, for fun. There is a long line of interesting names for animal flocks in English like:
- A leash of greyhounds
- A gaggle of geese
- An exaltation of larks
- A shrewdness of apes
- A troop of kangaroos
- A parliament of owls
- A siege of herons
- A crash of rhinoceri

Val - The King of Kargo Bikes in Seattle - and I played a little game in the comments about what else we could come up with.

He brought two great ones to the table:
- A pallet of cargo bikes
- A lounge of recumbents

I came up with:
- A cove of beach cruisers
- A sweat of racing bikes
- A posture of Dutch/Danish bikes
- A load of Xtra cycles

Let's play! Any other amusing ideas? Post a comment. Ooh! I have one!
- A elevation of high-heeled Copenhagen cyclists...

UPDATE!
This just in on the comments page:
Jason brilliantly proposes these:

A tower of tall bikes
A cog of fixed gear bikes
A trick of BMXers
A basket of townies
A cubby of folding bikes
A tred of mountain bikes
A convoy on commuter bikes
A union of unicycles

Steve proposes:
A bank of velodrome bikes.

Keep them coming!

MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE CYCLE CHIC:

A warm morning smile at the photographer chap taking photos/filming footage of the rush hour.


Are you exceptionally slow if a violin player overtakes you? Perhaps. Do you care? Unlikely.

Movement Metropolis

A city is movement. This movement is caused solely by the inhabitants of the city. A city is people moving.

In the country it is the quiet scenes that appeal. A landscape stretching away with only a grazing cow or drifting clouds or crashing waves to suggest that things are alive.

In a metropolis we are all part of an organic symphony of motion. We all contribute to it and we all regard others contributing to it.

It is in cities that a society is propelled forward by the people who live there. The foundations of the future are laid down in cities and the rest of the nation plays an eternal game of catch up. What appeals to me the most about Copenhagen is that the core melody of our symphony is provided by the bicycle. Cars rumble past in constant, linear paths with their occupants hidden from view. The melody is staccatto and repetitive and not a little dull.

Copenhageners on bicycles are clearly visible to everyone, especially to each other, and their melody is much more symphonic. There is human energy on display. There are visible faces and assorted postures to regard. As homo sapiens we search for recognisable signals from faces and body language. A long line of cars gives us little we can identify with. Psychology has taught us that we humans despise creatures like spiders and insects because we cannot identify with them because they lack a human face, whereas we love dogs and monkeys and other creatures with faces resembling our own.

[perhaps that is why the front end of cars are designed to have big, round headlight eyes and a mouth-like bumper?]

Cycling in itself is movement. Legs swirling around, heads turning, arms signalling, bodies hopping on and off while still rolling. All appealing and recognisable to the human eye. A flirtacious smile, a flash of leg, gesticulation during a conversation at a red light. We can associate with it.

Cars are fine. They aren't going anywhere and they shouldn't. Wishing for the death of the automobile is a ridiculous pipe dream. A vast reduction of cars on the roads and a massive increase of cyclists - with all the health and societal benefits involved - is, however, a splendid goal.

Transforming cities into symphonic, melodic, urban landscapes filled with people in motion, in movement, in concerto is an appealing thought. This is what I mean when I talk of Copenhagenizing the Planet.

There are many reasons why I love Copenhagen. The most important must surely be that my fellow citizens surround me and I can watch them move. Each an integral part of the city. Each a visible moving part in the organic spectacle of this metropolis, not covered by a hood or encased in steel, but rather brilliantly exposed. Like taking the back cover off a old, ticking pocket watch and seeing the finely crafted parts all contributing to keeping track of time.

As Johannes V. Jensen wrote of Copenhagen cyclists in his 1936 novel 'Gudrun', "If one is bumped by a car, the whole school is bumped. It's a nerve one has in the elbow, a flock function, which Copenhageners have learned so well that it is second nature."

Now we have safe, separted bike lanes of course but the school of fish analogy still applies.

And while I often revel in this populous symphony there are, rest assured, ample opportunities for solitary moments. A fish can leave the school and swim solo if it wishes.

Photo by Jackson Owen on Flickr.

L.A. Times

Another little rush hour shot. Over 30,000 bicycles ride past this point each day.

If you have the time, have a look at this over at the Los Angeles Times. They asked me to guest blog and this is the inaugural piece on their traffic blog Bottleneck, comparing Copenhagen to Los Angeles.

Rush Hour, Bridges and Suchlike

I've been out shooting film footage for a little film I've been asked to make about Copenhagen's bike culture - all the wonderful aspects of it. I'll be posting some great still shots from the streets in the coming days.


Bicycles and Bridges. They seem made for each other. This is Langebro. Long Bridge. Cyclists have been crossing the harbour on this bridge since 1954, although there has been a bridge here since 1656.
The bridge has been immortalised in a Danish song by a band you've never heard of named Gasolin'. And by me, in this little time lapse video where I took a photo every weekday for about eight months:


BACK TO THE BIKES

There has been a trend for a year or so of Copenhageners investing in newer, cooler bikes. Going for quality brands like Velorbis or Batavus instead of buying cheapish models at supermarkets. Nevertheless, the workhorse bicycle in it's funkiest, most personal incarnation lives on. Slap some stickers on the beast. Smile as the rust develops. It's all personality. Old people acquire charm and an air of experience when they get wrinkles. The same applies to bikes. Rust, a squeak, a wobbly wheel.


Another shot of the bicycle as a social form of transport. Couples pedalling about, free to chat and regard the city that surrounds them.


Alternatively, you don't need to ride with someone to get the sensation of riding with someone, if you know what I mean. You are constantly surrounded by your fellow citizens, each on their own personal version of the most efficient machine ever invented.

Wifealiciousness and I decided that this photo of her on the Velorbis Scrap Deluxe shoot is the coolest.