the magic mountain

It's Tuesday afternoon, and Tadzio is asleep on the couch in the living room. This is a bit of decadence for him. I usually insist that he nap in his bed. I, too, am being decadent. I'm sipping a glass of wine and reading Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain. We are on vacation together. Earlier today we went out and bought a new bicycle. I love bicycles. I love looking at them, riding them; my bicycle tends to be my most prized possession (along with my books). I have to hand it to Portland, as an American city it is pretty magical. Where else could I write about Dutch bikes and French schools?

When Tadzio was a little over a year old I bought a bakfiets or Dutch cargo bike to ride him around in. I loved that bike with all of my heart, and wished I still owned it today. It moved so beautifully through space.

We sold the bakfiets last summer to pay for Tadzio's tuition to the French school. The French school is not affordable for our family. It is a bit of madness (perhaps like the Dutch cargo bike) that is all about dreams and ideas. Tadzio is finishing up his second year at the school. He speaks French beautifully, and his teachers tell me that he has a gift for language and they must be careful about what they say as he "understands everything."

Despite Tadzio's insistence that we buy another bakfiets, I bought a bicycle that was basically a Dutch commuter bike with a special extension for Tadzio to ride on the back, an Xtracycle. I have to say there is something incredibly cute about his little legs straddling the back while he holds onto the handlebars. I was proud of him for mysteriously foregoing the foot rests and choosing the recycled cork hand grips.

Mille fois Merci.












Images; bicycle, bakfiets, school