I could move to France tomorrow. Leaving New York City behind does not seem such an impossible idea anymore. Especially after my recent visit, when my so-so grasp of the French language somehow came naturally, almost fluently after just a day. The joie de vivre seeped into my bones, the vibrant colors, the impressionist landscapes, the smell of fresh baked croissants, all the street-facing rows of scarf-wrapped coffee drinkers…on my fifth visit, France felt like home. And all those bikers! It really did move me. So I wrote about it for HuffPo.
Vive le Vélo! America Needs A Bike Ambassador, and a French Lesson
Bikes have replaced berets as the “it” accessory in France. The two-wheeled vehicles may be chic and eco, but this is not why locals ride them. It’s because bikes are cheap and they are everywhere. In May, while on assignment for a story about this summer’s Normandy Impressionist Festival–an event mostly accessible by the Train à Grand Vitesse (TGV), for those interested–I saw firsthand how France is trumping the United States on the alternative transportation front.
To read the full story, click here.