Cardiff and Utrecht: The joy and dread of cycling
As the Tour de France gets underway - starting in the Netherlands - 21-year-old student Ellen Leach-Hutchings is bringing her bike home to Cardiff with mixed feelings.
She has spent a year in Utrecht, which this year is the "Grand Départ" for the world's best known cycle race. But how does the experience of cycling in the Netherlands and back in Wales compare? Ellen gives her own personal insight. This time last year when I was studying in Leeds, Yorkshire was making its final preparations for the Grand Départ of the Tour de France. Now at the end of my year abroad in Utrecht, the Grand Départ has followed me there. And if I have learnt one thing from my time in the Netherlands - it is how wrong we're getting it in the UK. A person who cycles in the UK is a "cyclist". We stereotype them as a hi-vis-decorated, helmet-wearing, environmentally conscious types. Yet, not once in my 10 months in Utrecht have I referred to someone as, or heard somebody called, a "cyclist". Here, everyday bike use is neither a hobby nor an activity in itself. Rarely do people set out to go on "bike rides". Cycling in the Netherlands is a means to an end, and also, most importantly, a joy. It is simply a part of life, enjoyed by the majority of the population on a daily basis. During my time in Cardiff over Christmas I attempted to replicate my Dutch lifestyle and venture out on my bike. Having spent three months in the Netherlands, I had become comfortable with the idea of cycling, and vowed I would do so more at home. I started with a trip to a friend's house 15 minutes up the road - theoretically easily reachable by bicycle. Down to the cellar I went to retrieve my cobweb-covered bike, then back up again to call for help after finding it playing a game of Twister with five other bikes and my Razor scooter from 2003. In Holland a helmet is not part of the cycling attire. In fact, there really is no such thing as cycling attire. Spent your night at a smart gathering in your newest heels and dress given to you as an expensive Christmas present? No need to worry - hop on your bike, you will not look out of place. There, upright bicycles provide a good vantage point. There are separate cycle paths and an attitude that prioritises cyclists - the bike boulevards or Fietstraten give bikes the right of way and cars are the guests. Rarely do you feel at risk when travelling between locations. In Cardiff, as in most other cities across the UK, this is certainly not the case. Determined to give it a go however, and with my helmet securely in place, I set off. But this was not the relaxing, respected form of transportation I had been used to. The feeble attempt at accommodating cyclists meant I was often forced to venture into the middle of the road due to cars parking on cycle lanes. Painted lanes seemed to vanish mid-road. I felt my helmet was only offering slight protection as I searched relentlessly for the next bit of cycle path. The worst aspect was drivers's attitudes towards me and fellow cyclists. Car horns, aggressive gestures and verbal abuse were a stark reminder that I was not welcome. If you are lucky enough to find a shortcut through a park, prepare yourself for equal amounts of hostility, with a generous helping of "ring your bell next time" and "you didn't have to ring your bell like that". Unscathed, apart from a damaged right eardrum from an angry car horn, I arrived at my destination. Coming home from a city where cycling is a joy to one where it is a challenge certainly put things into perspective. I hung up my helmet, shook off the abuse and viewed the journey back with dread. As the debate continues in Cardiff about how to encourage more people to abandon their cars and take to two wheels, the answer seems obvious. In Utrecht where half of all journeys are made by bike, there is a real respect for cycling because it is what everybody does. Bikes have their own space and even their own traffic signals. As the Tour de France gets going, I am about to experience my own Grand Départ. To mark the end of my year abroad, I am cycling for five days across Holland before boarding the ferry with my Dutch bike on the way back to Cardiff. My bike has been an excellent companion during my time in Utrecht, stylishly taking me to every destination. Sadly, once over the border, it is unlikely to see much of my home city. Discussions between family members have involved storage locations or how to best display the bike, with even suggestions of its basket becoming a makeshift plant pot. Maybe I will give it a go on the streets of Cardiff - once I have plucked up some Dutch courage - alcohol free - of course.