EP 7 — A Love Letter to Biking (Not Just About the Bike)

Transcript

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Happy Friday, almost locals. I'm Maria, your host, and today I'm podcasting from Cloudy, Auckland, New Zealand. If you're new here, a warm welcome, almost local is a community for anyone navigating life abroad, expats, or just people figuring out how to belong somewhere new. We share the apps and downs, the funny stories and the honest moments of starting over. You can join me on Instagram at almost local and visit the blog@almostlocal.com to read more stories. In 2016, the very first thing I did when I moved to New Zealand was buy a car. Sounds practical enough, right? Except, yeah, I had to suddenly drive on the left hand side of the road, which felt like an extreme sport. Every time I got behind the wheel, my inner voice was screaming. Maria, stay left. Stay alive. Fast forward to this time around. I landed in New Zealand and I bought a car again, because let's be honest, you kind of have to, but, and here is the twist. I also bought any bike. Why? Because deep down I thought maybe I can change the culture here. Maybe I can inspire people, lead a revolution of two wheels. Spoiler alert, the revolution has not started yet. I had this romantic picture of myself biking to my coworking space. Hair blowing in the breeze, reusable coffee cup. Perfectly balanced. I imagine people pointing and saying, oh wow, who is she? The future of transport. Reality tech. Hills, Hills, hills, everywhere. And cars. Lots of cars because biking here in New Zealand is nothing like the Netherlands. In the Netherlands, bikes are royalty. They are the boss of the road. The terrain is flatter than a pancake. So cars. They know their place. And here in New Zealand, biking feels like a survival sport. Mm-hmm. Drivers don't expect you hills sneak up like cruel surprises. And the rain, oh, it mocks your battery percentage. But here's the thing, something's. Shifted. Maybe it's post Dutch Maria. Maybe it's me craving movement again, or maybe I just want to see the world from two wheels instead of behind glass, because biking here, it's not easy, but it's alive. When we moved to the Netherlands, of course I got a bike. That's what the Dutch do. At first it was chaos. Suddenly my bike was my life. Groceries, commuting, everything, and my thighs were like, whoa, what fresh hell is this? But then something clicked. No traffic exercise built into your day trails everywhere. Parking was a dream and driving didn't even save time. So you just biked then. Came winter. My Argentine friends thought I was insane for biking in the cold, but I thought, Hey, I can do this, and I did. So the real villain of biking in the Hague wasn't the rain or even the snow. It was the north wind blowing straight off the sea into your face. Honestly, it felt personal. Like the wind itself was saying, not today Maria, but I biked anyway. Rain, wind, frozen fingers, whatever. Because that's what locals did. Even when we had a family car parked outside, I'd grabbed my bike instead. And you know what? I miss it. Not the Dutch rain. No, thank you. You can keep that. But I miss biking as a way of life, as culture. Here's what I see. Now that I'm back in New Zealand, the bike wasn't just transportation. It was shaping me quietly, unexpectedly. And that's what places do they sneak things into your life. Things that feel small, maybe even annoying, and then suddenly years later you realize, oh, that actually changed me, that Dutch wind, those endless rides in the snow, they built a version of me I didn't even know was forming, So here's my takeaway, embrace the journey because the now might feel hard or silly or insignificant, but those are the things that stay with you forever. Yes. Forever. Even when you don't realize they're building on you. Like biking built on me. And that that's a love letter worth writing. Thanks so much for listening to today's episode. Stay tuned for new episodes and guest interviews coming soon from different parts of the world. For all of you navigating life abroad or for those who just get it. And now I'm off to my morning coffee. See you next time.