This story comes from a land where the notion of a folding bicycle is practically unknown, and it has a happy ending:There is a Brompton dealer in Tel-Aviv, as of March 2004, called Ilan’s Bikes, and the shop is within walking distance from where I live. Actually, Ilan (a Brompton owner himself) was cautious about the enterprise. He said let’s wait and see if people do order…
My folder affair began some three years ago, owing mainly to the emerging Israeli train system and the development of the seafront shared-use promenade and Yarkon riverside park.Tel- Aviv is one of the few cities of its magnitude in the world that exists without an underground rail system.
From the days of the Turks and then the British, a railway line followed the coastal plain from Lebanon through Haifa,Tel- Aviv and Gaza, with side routes from Haifa through the plain of Esdraelon to Syria and from Tel- Aviv through Lod and Ramla (a Turkish-built administrative centre) to Jerusalem. After the British left, the system fell into decay – the ‘valley train’ to Lebanon was abandoned, and although the train to Jerusalem survived, it climbed the 700 metre ascent so slowly that it was practically useless.
…I scanned the internet for ‘folding bicycle’… the future turned out to be here already…
The renaissance started five years ago. New stations began to appear in the greater Tel-Aviv and Haifa areas – first Ha-Shalom, then Ha’Hagana near the new central bus station (holding the dubious record of being the biggest bus station in the world, but also one that neither the citizens nor the bus operators needed – aka the Tel-Aviv White Elephant), and University (near the exhibition centre). New suburban rail lines followed, many of the stations being built in the middle of nowhere, but near shopping malls, a policy that, surprisingly, has proved quite successful.The eastern suburban line, leading from the university to Bene Braq (actually, the Ayalon Mall), the Segula mall, Rosh Ha’ain (near an industrial park) and Kefar Sava has been running successfully for two to three years.The newer Rishon Lezion line has been less successful, due to its bad location. More ambitious plans include a completely new line to Jerusalem, and there are proposals to extend this railway as far south as Eilat on the Red Sea.
Cycle Paths
At about the same time as the train improvements, they also paved a contiguous road through the Yarqon river park, which was later joined to the seafront promenade, giving me an off-road route almost all the way to work.With these ground breaking developments, the time was ripe for a folding bicycle.
This was pure inspiration. Actually, I never saw one. (Later I was to learn that there where some half a dozen Bromptons and a score of 16-inch Dahons in Israel, but I had never witnessed any of them.) I recalled seeing in the Discovery Channel’s Tomorrow’s World a part on folding bikes, with this guy halting in front of a supermarket, folding the bike and then proceeding to use it as a supermarket trolley (well, sadly enough, you can’t do this with a Brompton!). So, I scanned the internet for ‘folding bicycle’. Surprisingly, the future turned out to be here already.There was plenty of material, mainly from Britain, including ads and a couple of comparison articles (from A to B magazine, I guess).
The name Brompton came up regularly, as the commonly- accepted standard commuter for my distance hauls, allegedly offering acceptable riding experience and folding small; much more expensive than I had in mind, but still affordable. Other models seemed to be either cheaper but inferior or forbiddingly expensive science fiction pieces. It so happened that I was scheduled to spend a week in London on business at the time, so I made my mind to return home with one.Then, the trip was cancelled at the last moment. Frustrated, I compensated myself by ordering the bike by mail, ignoring the extra cost (from Avon Valley, including the suggested A to B subscription, whatever that meant – let it be!). I agreed to compromise on the colour, so the bike came after a few days in a big carton. I unpacked the contents and learnt from the manual how to fold and unfold it.The next day, we started the on board a train is strictly work schedule we’ve maintained ever since: the bike forbidden here…” carrying me to work and me carrying it upstairs.
Some improvements were called for, though. I upgraded the original three-speed gearing – being too little and too high – to six-speed reduced gearing, which has been doing the job right. Surprisingly, on small wheels one needs fewer speeds to be comfortable. And I always ride with feet firmly strapped to pedals, by either toe-clips or cleats. Being tied to the pedals makes for efficient pedalling, making it practical to ride on rough surfaces and climb steep inclines, such as the infamous Wooden Bridge illustrated, in the park en route to work.
I insisted upon a rack (in addition to the very practical front bag). In no way does it interfere with train commuting; on the contrary, the additional pair of small rubber wheels (which I replaced with bigger ones from an old cabinet!) makes it practical to tow the folded bike on smooth surfaces over medium distances, as in train stations and malls. You hold the folded package with four fingers by the saddle, lifting it a little. (The practicality of this position may depend upon one’s height, though). Needless to say, the original saddle was quickly torn in the process, which turned out for the good – got me a Brooks saddle instead, which is superior for both sitting and towing.
My normal route to work does not start from a station on the map. I live close to the beach, exactly 3.5 km from Hagana station, three from Hashalom station, 3.5 from Central station and six from University. Getting to any of these by public transport in the morning would take around 30 minutes, but getting to Hagana by bike, including folding, takes 13 minutes. Usually I take the long (and pastoral) 10km route – gliding down General Allenby street to the beach, along the seafront and through the riverside park to work, which is near Bene Braq station.When I want to take the short, noisy and polluted 7km route, I climb a few metres up Allenby and glide down King George the 5th Street into the city. Obviously, the British did leave some traces behind…
The railway can be useful too. A nice train station has been built in an industrial park I used to visit on business errands quite often, some 90 kilometres from home, and which – though located on a main road – was virtually unreachable by the bus system.
Carrying bicycles on board a train is strictly forbidden here.The regulations do not mention folding bikes, but I have been delayed only twice (and released after a short inquiry) by overzealous conductors.Thorough baggage checking is routine here on entrance to train stations and other buildings. So, arriving at the gate with the folded and covered package may cause unnecessary delay. (‘What is inside?’ ‘A folded bicycle.’ ‘What?’) On the other hand, once in the station, the folded bike had better look like an ordinary bag, just in case the conductor gets over-excited.The trick is to glide nonchalantly up to within a few metres of the security officers to catch their attention (but not too close to become an annoyance), spend 20 seconds laboriously folding the bike and covering it, then march to the guard saying ‘it’s the bike, remember?’
… The police were already on their their way… the ‘suspicious bag’ was my innocent bicycle…
The bicycle cover is handy once boarding, as shown by the following anecdote, (incidentally demonstrating how little known the concept of a folding bicycle is here). In the Jerusalem central bus station, I once left the folded bike, in its thin default cover, in the line for a bus, asked someone to watch it and left for the toilet.When I returned, the safe keeper was gone and a crowd had gathered at a safe distance. As I approached, I was signalled to keep away from the suspicious bag.The police were already on their way.The ‘suspicious bag’ was, of course, my innocent bicycle, albeit thinly covered, with the rack and rear lights clearly protruding from below. Even as I took it by the hand, I was advised never to leave my ‘bag’ this way again.Then, the bike went aboard the bus’s baggage area, and remained an anonymous bag all the way to Tel-Aviv.
Living in no-folder-land is by means bad. People respond well to the idea as soon as they see it. Positive comments on the practicality of the technology are common. However, they find it harder to accept the price.These people can appreciate why they should pay over $2000 for a full-suspension MTB, weekend mountain biking being a widespread sport here. However, they find it harder to appreciate the price for something that delivers the first impression of a child’s machine. (The 16-inch revolution of the 1960s has never reached these parts).
Let us hope that this situation changes, because Israel – especially the coastal plain – is ideal territory for folding bikes. Infrastructure is getting better: the rail network is developing, two underground lines are planned (on paper at least) and sporadically, bicycle tracks make an appearance (leading from nowhere to nowhere, but sure, it’s a start). Oh, and Ilan is reporting some folding bike sales.
