Friday Morning in the Village

When I think of good places, I think of the mornings there.  I'm not a morning person, so those days that I rise early and see places for what they are then without a pre-caffeine stupor are moments I remember clearly.  I remember a morning in Nice, walking the streets as the cafes were just opening on my way to a flea market.  The city was just waking up, people were going through their rituals, saying their greetings, just before things had really started that day.  It was a good morning.  I remember multiple mornings driving down the roads of Messinia in a Nissan Micra, a plastic cup of poorly diffused instant coffee sloshed next to me, the mist rising out of the olive groves, no one speaking, thoughts about the day wrapping around us.  Those mornings were beautifully painful.  They always started the same way, gut wrenching scenery, sleepy villages, old men and their prayer beads, really bad coffee, and thoughts.

We're three months into the German assignment.  I'm pretty sure it's the mornings I will recall with the most fondness when I look back 10, 20, 30 years from now.  A cup of perfect coffee sitting next to me, still.  The birdsong from the bush of sparrows outside the office.  Crisp, blue white skies and soft morning breezes.  A freighter with a German or Dutch flag chugging through the lock.  Swans flapping their massive wings against the water in takeoff sounding like the whomp-whomp of rotor blades.  Geese having a loud discussion of the day's territory. The next door neighbor going through her morning routine.  Tuesdays are cleaning day, Thursdays are for the garden, Fridays all the windows get opened.  There's a smell in the morning, an odd earthy, spicy odor coming off the river.  I wait until the afternoons after that's lifted to open my windows, but to each their own.

Joggers go by, singles and pairs.  When the sun is first coming up, it's the bike commuters who zip along, the sounds of clicking ball bearings and creaky chains telling the beginning of the day.  Dog walkers shuffle along the path beside the road, quietly.  Neither the dogs nor their owners seem particularly awake.  The village cats skitter through flower beds and along garden walls headed to wherever the schedule dictates.  Folks pass each other in the alley next to the house carrying eggs from the lady one block over who sells them from her front door.  Others carry fresh, still warm Brötchen from the bakery.  They all nod and say "Morgen!"  Some stop for a chat.  The cyclists that pass now are of the recreational sort, at the beginning of their rides, stretching the legs, smiles on their faces, and sun in their eyes.

Dew drips off grass blades and budding leaves.  The church bells ring in response to the ones tolling on the opposite riverbank.  Engines kick on and car doors slam.  Skateboards pass on the way to school.  The sun rises higher, the sky gets bluer.  I'm on the doorstep with a second cup of coffee, waiting for a package of...more coffee.  Sparrows pick at the grass between the bricks in the courtyard.  Two bikes rest against the garden wall, patiently waiting for a ride.  Laughter from somewhere around the corner.  A dog barking in the park.  Shadows getting shorter.  Sun warms orange tiled roofs.

Mornings aren't lost on me, the incurable night owl.  They're the time of promise, before the day has committed itself, while it's still an open book.  Here they're a perfect quiet peace.  They bring a smile, always, three months down the road.  As the day ripens, it goes in different directions, sometimes great, sometimes not so.  But, the mornings?

They always start out good and simple.  Life right now makes perfect sense.

The World is Round, People!

Look at this!  Two posts in one week?  Crazy, I know.  But, I'm feeling inspired, so here we go.

Women's cycling has been in the forefront this week.  With the Women's World Cup starting on the 15th and the fact it's getting actual coverage, the success of the Half the Road film, and the publicity female pros are getting, people are really starting to take notice.  Good things are happening.  It's pretty exciting.  It's also stirring debate, particularly on the same old subject of gear.

Ah, gear.  I'm a gear freak.  I just realized this recently when I was planning for an upcoming trip. I had more gear going into my bag than I had clothes.  I like things that involve collecting gear.  I love backpacking, an activity that is so gear centric most backpackers end up talking gear with each other instead of where they've been.  I love photography, an art that also requires an endless amount of gear and gear to carry said gear.  Then, of course, there's cycling.  You wear gear, your bike wears gear, you need gear for the gear, you need gear to clean the gear, and there's always new gear.  It's a gear freak's dream sport.  So, I'm always looking at cycling gear and I picked up on the debate raised this week on women's gear, specifically clothing.  Being a woman who rides a bike and needs clothing to do so, I have some opinions on the subject.  I've written about it before, and I'll get to that later.  First off though, here's what I think about the debate itself.

I like it.  I'm glad we have people talking about this subject outside of women's cycling blogs and forums.  I'm glad it's mainstream this week.  I'm very happy that people are saying, "Hey, look at this!  There are things that are moving in the right direction, but there's still work that needs to be done."  That means, at least in my opinion, that thanks to media coverage on the pro road side of things, that change is going to trickle down to the rest of us.  I really like that all sorts of women riders with all sorts of opinions are weighing in.  I really like it that the guys are voicing their opinions too.  I agree with some things are that said and I disagree with other things.  But, that's ok.  People are talking about it.

So here's what I think.

I'm not a roadie.  The Rules?  Eh.  Sure, I definitely agree there's a right way and wrong way to ride road, but I can't get fanatical about it.  To each their own (although, I think sporting team kit and wheelsucking a complete stranger for miles on end is very sad).  I certainly wouldn't pass muster for most roadies.  I'm an amateur.  Definitely.  I ride an entry level road bike.  I'm built like Cavendish during his husky years.  I hate climbing, passionately.  I have no desire to join in group rides or compete, ever.  I can't hang.  I honestly don't care.  Road cycling is something I enjoy doing on my own terms.  I like riding my road bike best.  I like how it handles, I like the aesthetics, I like the speed.  I like the gear.  But, you know what?  I also like riding my hybrid slowly along at German grandma pace, and I like spinning around on my hipster Schwinn in jeans and T on a warm evening.

Image www.teamestrogen.com

What I don't like is getting pigeonholed.  I think the cycling industry loves pigeonholing people, men and women alike.  Get some clear market definitions and it makes it a lot easier to sell stuff.  I don't like being told that because I'm a woman things have to be different for me, that I have to make compromises, that I have to fit in a clique to ride my bike.  I've never been good at that sort of thing, and I've never seen the point of it.  I mean, we're cyclists, right?  We're all just cyclists, men and women alike.  We're all at varying degrees of experience, we all have varying interests.  I don't think anyone likes being told they have to dress a certain way because they ride at one level or another.  I certainly don't think anyone, man or woman, likes being told they have to wear a certain color or style in sport because of their gender.  It's like telling women we have to go back to wearing dresses 24/7 and telling guys they have to wear a suit to work everyday.  It's a pretty archaic attitude.  All of us should be able to find the type of gear that performs best for our needs, our comfort, and our style.  It really shouldn't be that big of deal to find what we're looking for.

Image www.vulpine.cc

Look, I don't wear pink.  I don't do glitter.  I've been a committed tomboy since birth, and I'm not going to betray that when I ride my bike.  It would ruin the experience.  I like subdued stuff and earth tones.  I like solids and classic designs.  I like my jerseys to have real sleeves, pockets that fit more than an energy bar, and cut in way that acknowledges the fact I'm leaning over in the drops just like the boys.  I'm really pleased with brands that carry stuff like that, and I'm excited to see more and more new companies coming to the market with these types of styles.  Rapha has been a leader in that realm, but now we have the recently launched Velocio and the two year old super cool Vulpine in the ring (I mean, look at that sweet merino).  Even established recognizable brands like Castelli are toning down on the girl power centrism.  I'm not saying no one should make the pink, sparkle, flower stuff anymore.  Lots of women out there really like it and that's what they feel the most comfortable in.  That's cool.  We all need to feel good when we're riding.   I'm just really glad the industry is starting to put the breaks on the pink pigeonholing.  The clothing thing is moving in the right direction.  I hope down the road some of the lower priced shop brands will get on board so women with tastes like mine aren't frustrated by their gear options when entering the sport.  Nobody wants to drop a ton of money on clothes when they're first starting out, so cheaper, shop accessible options would be good.  Heck, I still have trouble swallowing some of the prices for the online brands.

But, beyond clothing there's still a lot of work ahead.  I hope the changes in that market will begin to affect the rest of the cycling industry.  WSD models are really making great advances, I'm loving what I see from Giant and Raleigh.  Its nice that those of us who need smaller frames and components can buy a bike off the rack and it's not baby blue or covered in butterflies.  My greatest hope is that I'll be able to walk into any bike shop someday and get treated respectfully and not like the little woman who doesn't know a cassette from a headset.  Not all shops are guilty of this and there are some amazing ones out there that are pleasure to work with, but to be honest Europe needs to try a little harder.

All in all though, I think we have reason to be excited and positive about what's happening.  I hope the debate continues and things keep changing.  As one of my favorite people, Cate Blanchett, said recently, "The World is round, people!"  Women cyclists have just as much right to the road, the bikes, and the clothes the boys get and the sooner we're are no longer marginalized or passed over the better.  I think we're on the right road.

The Most Important Patch of Land in France

There's an area up in northern France, you may have heard of it.  To look at it, you may not guess that it is probably one of the most significant places in the world.  Well, it is.

Utah Beach

Today, Normandy is one giant tourist attraction.  You'll hear more English being spoken here than you will French, even in the off season.  But, just a short 70 or so years ago this area was at the very eye of the storm during World War II.  One June 6, 1944, the Allies brought the fight to Hitler when they invaded Utah, Omaha, Juno, Sword, and Gold beaches.  From that point on, the tide of the war in Europe had definitely changed.

William the Conqueror's Castle, the imposing fortress of Falaise where the Duke
and future King of England was born and spent his early years.

But, incidentally, the events of D-Day aren't the only reason why Normandy is significant.  An invasion, this time in the reverse, which took place about 880 years prior is another claim to fame for the former Duchy.  Pretty much every student of Western history knows the date of 1066, when William the Bastard, Duke of Normandy, launched about 700 ships from Normandy on his way to the history changing battle at Hastings with Harold Godwinson.  The defeat of the Anglo-Saxon army by the Normans drastically altered the course of world history.  The repercussions of the Norman invasion cannot be overstated.  Normandy was William's home and where he spent most of his life, even after he became King of England.  It's where he learned to be one of the most successful military and government leaders to have ever lived.

Bayeux Cathedral, the original 

So, you see, Normandy is saturated in history.  It is positively dripping in it, actually.  The major cities of Caen and Bayeux are chock full of 12th Century edifices.  You can't turn a corner without running into some giant yellow sandstone monument to the Normans' power.  If you have a thing for medieval architecture, something I myself suffer from, you will be in heaven.  Despite the destruction of war that nearly leveled these cities, very few of the old buildings show any signs of that abuse today.  Bayeux is home to one of the most important works of European art too.  The Bayeux Tapestry resides in its very own museum in the heart of the city.  The tapestry is not only a work of art, but a historical document.  At seventy meters long, it tells the story of the Norman invasion, from Edward the Confessor's bequeathing of the crown to his cousin William, to Harold's adventures in Normandy, to his snatching of the crown upon Edward's death, to the building of the Norman fleet, to the final moments of the battle in 1066.  For a piece of cloth that is almost 1000 years old, it doesn't show it's age.  It's incredible, not only because of the level of craftsmanship and the aesthetics, but because of its fantastic detail.  You can learn a lot about what things were like in the Middle Ages just by studying this 70m long cloth.

Obviously, however, most people visit Normandy because of the events of 1944.  Today, it's hard to imagine as you walk through the quaint streets of the cities or the beaches the amount of violence that erupted here.  It's an inherently peaceful place of stone villages, seaside cottages, and sun dappled gardens.  But, you don't have to look too closely to see evidence of what went down here.

German jackboot print in a ruined artillery bunker.

One of Hitler's last surviving guns, now silent overlooking the Channel at Longues-sur-Mer

The D-Day sites of Normandy have been written about time and again by authors far more knowledgable and talented than myself.  I will not begin to pour into the events, the characters, and the immensities of D-Day.  It's too much to take in, process, and then re-disseminate.  I didn't expect to be moved when we visited the American cemetery.  I've spent many hours in cemeteries for my work back in the day.  Never once was I overwhelmed by a cross or a name and a date.  Here, however, I was.  How do you reacted to field after field of pure white stone representing a lives cut down in their prime for a cause they couldn't have understood?  I don't know.  It's something that has be seen to understand

So, visit Normandy? Yes.  Visit Normandy even if you don't care one iota about history?  Yes.  The food is good, and you may actually learn something too.  Learning never hurt anyone.  Normandy has a lot to teach.  It played a major role in two of the most significant events in world history, events which shape our present world.  Of any place in France, perhaps even more than that famous tower, this is one spot you should visit.