Throughout history bicycles have been associated with freedom, and are often referred to as “freedom machines”. The simple power of two wheels to transport you quickly and silently from one place to another, without the need for fuel or other people, was and still is literally revolutionary.
One of the reasons I pay huge sums to live on Abu Dhabi’s Corniche is the freedom I have – on a bike – to enjoy, within minutes, the feeling that I’ve escaped the city. I go from the end of Al Bateen Street to Zayed Port and back, a distance of about 10 kilometres. This is something I do every other day, and is a pastime that I look forward to more than any other. I also play soccer and do circuit classes, but cycling has a purity that can’t be matched. It’s especially enjoyable before 9am, when few people are around, or at sunset, when you get the feeling that you’ve got the best out of the day and have not wasted this gorgeous combination of fresh air and light after being cooped up in an office, or at the supermarket, or the gym. Even though I enjoy yoga, I’ve always felt there was something unfortunate about doing a sun salutation in a darkened room.
Once I mount my bike, I put my iPod on shuffle and set off. For me the ride gets going after about five minutes, once I round the first bend of the path that gives me a clear view of the water on the left. It reminds me, somewhat strangely, of a bike ride I used to do at home in Brighton, England, along the Undercliff Walk, which stretches for miles and also gives you a clear view of the sea. It’s the combination of sea air, meditative exercise and a lack of crowds that is so relaxing. The only slight negative is the staring I sometimes get from groups of men, who still seem to think there is something funny and entertaining about a woman on a bike. I look the other way and I see amazing things.
At the point where the channel between the Corniche and Lulu Island opens towards Zayed Port, roughly in line with the Sheraton hotel on the Corniche, I’ve seen pods of dolphins. Elsewhere are darting fish, stingrays and giant jellyfish, clearly visible from the path, and, very occasionally, turtles.
The best days are in winter, when there’s no wind and the sea is calm – usually, until about 9am. Often, if I’m running a bit late, I’ll reach my turnaround point near Zayed Port, where a cat is usually lying under a bush and acts as if I’ve woken it up. Here, I have a drink of water and head back – usually into a headwind. This gets the adrenaline pumping as I’m then looking to my next activity – a swim in the sea on one of the free, extended areas opposite Lulu Island.
None of this costs anything, and it’s an activity I do all year round. Such is my need to be outdoors that even in the brutally hot summer, I venture out every few days in the very early morning. When I get into the lift in my building in the morning or evening, even during these cooler months, people look at me as if I’m mad. At other times, there’s an unrestrained admiration for what I’m doing. Yet there is nothing amazing about it, and I can’t understand why more people don’t do it. I can only assume that the hassle of buying and storing a bike is an issue, as is finding the time. But once it becomes a habit, nothing stops you. Simply going through the motions and committing yourself to this hour of free meditation is a good life lesson in itself. Enjoy what’s here, now.
Rosemary Behan is The National’s travel editor.
