BASKETS FOR BICYCLES

It?s been the fourth day since I got my bike. It?s been pretty fun but a
little bit of a challenge. It?s not too bad bike riding here since all of
the main streets have special wide lanes for the bikes. It?s totally a
different thing here than if you were to imagine bike riding in the states.

The lanes here are pretty wide, so that there are two lines of bikers when
it?s busy. I?m usually in the slow lane for now, since I?m peddling for a
third of the time and coasting for the rest. I?ve heard many other Danish
bikers talk to me on the streets or shout something to me which I can?t
understand. Then they end up passing me by. I hear the ringing bell on a lot
of Danes? bikes too.

It sure is quite an interesting experience biking at home at midnight, when
it started raining half of the way home. A lot of us were working really
late at the studio (about 20 some minutes away), since we had a presentation
this morning to our client/sponsor. It?s OK tho, since I have a mountain
bike which can handle the weather and going up and down the low level curbs.
Next time it rains like that tho I'll probably take the metro.

I went on a bike ride this afternoon exploring the city. I looked in my
Rough Guide to Copenhagen book and found an interesting place to eat at.
Enough of a reason to bike 45 minutes or so to explore the city. I ended up
finding a really great area by the harbor north east of us.

My butt gets pretty sore after riding for a while, but I?m realizing it
helps to somewhat stand when you ride. Maybe I?ll look into getting a new
seat.

I?m right nursing a few souvenirs on my knees and my right hand from a
couple of incidents. (I?m going glove shopping tomorrow.) Once was when this
Danish girl was passing me on the left and said something to me, which
startled me a little. Weak sauce...I know. I was pretty tired too from the
hours before. I?m glad that the guy next door to me here at the flat pretty
much brought over an entire with him, so I used his Hydrogen
Peroxide and Neosporin.

Every night I?ve had to carry my mountain bike up floor long flights of
stairs to our flat (for safety...although I have double locks on the bike).
But we just got keys to the bike locker downstairs, so that can stop.

Update from Gang-land

Btw, all?s quiet here on the flat. Nothing new from the Gang. Apparently in
this former hospital / nursing home / former monestary... The city houses a
few trouble maker teenagers here, without adult supervision (an error in
their utopian society). The city now knows about them, because of what
happened to us. But starting this past Monday they have had an adult to live
with them. Sunday night they were seen sweeping up the broken glass in the
courtyard from the TV they threw from their balcony. I think the proper
social services have put them in their place.

Dad's big mountain bike leans up against a tire-tracked wall in the office. The hand-me down beloved tricycle is on the bike stand, waiting for Alex to fiddle with pedals and turn tires. It has a traditional metal bell- Alex protested vehemently when I tried to replace it with a colorful parrot horn. It also has a little yellow tray on the back. Alex likes to put his favorite things in there as he rides around- his ratty green blanket, his stuffed kitty, odd bits of bread sticks, half-eaten string cheese sticks. Somehow we have started calling it his "back-pack".
On the floor is a wooden pedal-less bike that we downsized specially for Alex. It's still a little too big for him so the tires are deflated. It's great fun upside down, too.