My daughter wanted a shiny new pink (obviously!) bicycle for Christmas. When we moved out here my daughter's bike came with us and at the time, both it and she were small enough to ride up and down our very tiny cobbled yard. But that was a couple of years ago now and just like all kids, they never stop growing, and inevitably, the bike is now far too small for her. She still rode it around the garden, and even once or twice we stuffed into the car so that she could ride along the promenade, but with each growth spurt she got more and more unstable on the old thing. So, a couple of weeks before Christmas, she and I went down to the local sports shop, Decathlon, to sit on a few bikes, try them out for size and decide which colours were pink enough. Handily, they had a height chart to stand against telling you exactly what size bicycle your little tearaway would fit the best. I was expecting to have to order one for delivery in a week's time or something like that, and have to assemble a half built bike on Christmas day, but no. The helpful young man plainly told me that what I could see were the actual bikes you could buy, right here, right now. So, after choosing of course the pinkest bike with cutest little basket, it fell upon me to choose a bike for me. After all, I'd need to be able to keep up with my speedy little daughter, and (cough, cough), I could do with the exercise too! My choice was easy enough. "Large cheap mountain bike please."
Ten minutes later I was wheeling the pink bike across the car park, folding down the back seats and off we went. I would have to come back for my bike later and ride it home, since it was too large to fit in the car. No matter. It's not far!
Strange! Although I've been driving around on Portuguese roads for over two years now, riding a push bike on the right hand side of the road somehow seemed really odd. Not sure why. And I didn't really notice it until I came to the first left turn, where of course I would have to cross in front of oncoming traffic to turn into a side street. Suddenly, at that moment, it just kind of felt really strange. For the first time in ages, I really had to think about which side of the road I needed to aim for on the other side of the junction. Weird.
Christmas has of course now been and gone, and I've been out on my bicycle a few times now. First time out I cycled up over Monte Estoril and down to Cascais, along the promenade and back up the hill through Estoril. I'm certainly happy that I bought a mountain bike. These hills are fierce! It felt good though.
This afternoon I took it upon myself, after a little cajoling from my better half, to fix the punctured tyres on my daughter's old bike and re-attach the stabiliser wheels so that her little brother had a bike. He came over to me to watch me remove the tyre and inner tube from the front wheel and of course had loads of questions. He followed me into the kitchen to help me dunk the inflated tube under water and spot the bubbles. Lots more questions. It was only when he saw me putting on the stabilisers that he asked the important questions, "What are they for?" and, "So, is this so I can learn to ride a bike?" Oh, you should have seen his little face light up! And so, after that I spent the rest of the afternoon watching my two youngest cycling up and down and up and down the cul-de-sac a few streets away with huge grins on their faces. Better still: No accidents!
I'm itching to get out more this weekend. The last few mornings we have had rain, but I'm hoping to grab a quick trip back down to the seafront, early in the morning tomorrow. The seafront always looks fantastic in the morning sunshine. I hope the rain holds off. Or I could just go anyway. There will be less people on the promenade if it's raining!
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