the swedish bicycle takes a win
Thursday afternoon Richard arrived in Umeå. One of the many joys of this small, bike-friendly city is the ease of aeroport access. No tolls. No traffic cues. Just me, my bike and a pleasant jaunt on a sunny afternoon. Except I got hung up in some code at the office and was ten minutes late leaving so was in a slight rush to make the 4 Km trip on time. With about one kilometer left to the flygplats (about half way across the bridge shown in the previous posting) I heard, then saw, the aeroplane for which I have been awaiting the last 60 days. It banked for the aeroport; I picked up the pace. The race was on. To my surprise, I found myself choking back a few tears, lump in my throat, yet laughing with delight at the beautiful day and the crazy battle underway. I pedaled for all I was worth: there would not be a lonely arrival for Richard at the aeroport.
The aeroplane may have hit the tarmack slightly before I pulled up outside the front door, but a speedy lady can lock her bike and be waiting, face pressed against the glass, in no time flat; deplaning is not such a quick process. And so the score is 1 for the Swedish Monarch bicycle: 0 for Fly Nordic. And Richard is back in Sweden.
