My Life in Paris: Cycling Parisiennes

At Place de la Concorde, in Paris, Theadora pauses to remember cyclists from the past.

Feeling cooped-up in my flat at Abbesses, I decide to bike downhill to my favourite happy place in Paris. Nothing boosts my mood like a long browse through WHSmith bookshop, followed by a promenade up and down Pont Alexandre III, then one more quick spin around the bookstore before heading to Place de la Concorde.

But I lose track of time. Now it’s rush hour, the sun is setting, and I’m feeling a bit daunted-stranded on a traffic island surrounded by tourists and locals, waiting for the lights to change. I can’t help but recall my first encounter with the Place de la Concorde years ago.

I had just moved to Paris, and wasn’t exactly having an easy go of it. Bad hair days and flunking my French language exam had started taking a toll. Moving here felt like a great big mistake.

Suddenly sirens and flashing lights were everywhere. “The Queen’s procession!” a woman next to me yelled, as a string of vehicles sped by – Queen Elizabeth II’s motorcade, complete with carriages and horses at nearly full gallop. I’m still not entirely certain why the Queen’s procession changed my mood, but it did, and I decided to give Paris another chance.

I’m glad I did. A few years later, I spotted another royal at the exact same spot. This time it was one of the Kings of Pop and Funk, biking across the same vast space. “Are you going our way?” my sister and I cried, as Lenny Kravitz zoomed past us. I don’t think he heard us, or at least he didn’t stop. And here I am, stuck on this traffic island yet again, trying to figure out how to get across the largest public square in the city while staying alive. Could I summon the spirit of les bicyclettes?

Big wheels keep on rolling

By the 1890s, “all Paris was a-wheel,” thanks to the introduction of the Starley Rover ‘Psycho’ Safety Bicycle Racer and its 30in pneumatic tires. Women bikers (aka les bicyclettes) were brazenly riding in public clad in menswear. “The first bike costumes were mostly homemade affairs, designed by the riders and made up by work-women sworn to secrecy,” said Scribner’s Magazine in 1895. Back then, exercising in public was still new.

The bike craze spread fast. Soon women were zipping all over Paris in gaiters, straw caps, high-collared blouses with leg o’mutton sleeves, and tight, tailored bodices, along with short bloomers, adding “one charm more to the Bois de Boulogne”. Mass-produced, les vélos were affordable, so everyone was “mounting the steeds of steel and rubber” and learning how to ride.

In velodromes, lessons were available for 12 to 15 francs. Two popular tracks were located in the Bois de Boulogne and along the Champs Élysées. Much like today’s Vélib’ programme, bikes could be rented by the hour.

Even photographers, artists and writers got caught up in the frenzy. In Émile Zola’s 1898 novel, Paris, the protagonist, Marie, sings the praises of bicycling, saying: “By wearing rationals (baggy trousers) women free their limbs from prison… One goes back to nature, to the earth, our common mother, from whom one derives fresh strength and gaiety of heart! Just look how delightful this forest is. And how healthy the breeze that inflates our lungs! Yes, it all purifies, calms and encourages one.”

Zola went on, “…nothing can inspire one more gloriously – one’s heart leaps as if one were in the very heavens.”

Second that motion

Stirred by thoughts of Zola’s Marie and all the women who had clung to the right to pedal in public, I jump back on the saddle and charge across Concorde’s 19 acres of bumpy cobblestones. Somehow managing not to lose my balance, head or the bag of books I’ve bought at WHSmith, I answer the age-old question: Why did the chicken cross the road? For retail shopping!

But now the Mayor of Paris plans to make the Place de la Concorde pedestrian-friendly and traffic-free, with trees. I’m not sure how I feel about it. Relieved, maybe, but perhaps a bit melancholy? Guess I’ve become proud of my little daredevil feats.

Theadora Brack has lived in Paris since 2003 and is the author of the peopleplacesandbling.com blog.

From France Today Magazine