As you read this, I should be in Vienna, sipping a fancy coffee and eating a Sachertorte. (Followed swiftly by digestive enzymes).
I’m not supposed to be alone — I’m supposed to be here with one of the young women from Uganda I’ve known for 17 years, since she was 9. She’s a remarkable human who works in HR, is doing a master’s in leadership and runs a foundation for girls’ education (as well as parenting a toddler and building a marriage). I thought it would be a fun time for both of us to take her to Europe(TM) for a week or so, so we can spend time together, work on something we’re writing together, and just experience the world differently.
Well, the world thought differently. The incoming European country initially denied her visa for blatantly racist reasons (basically ticking the box that says “yeah, your paperwork is in order, but we don’t believe you’ll leave again after your week’s holiday” [subtext: “Africans are all just swarming our precious borders“]. Then they obfuscated and obstructed for more than four weeks until time ran out when we appealed it. (Deliberate vagueness here for google purposes).
Privilege reveals itself in new ways every day. Here’s how Canadians go to Europe: 1) have a passport; 2) have the money to buy a plane ticket; 3) go to Europe. The only systemic barriers are economic. Here’s how people in sub-saharan africa go to Europe: Submit a complex, 20 page application demonstrating that you have a reason to go (work or formal learning), submit every document proving that you are an upright citizen with a flush bank account and a job, buy specific medical insurance, pay a large fee, and wait for an indifferent bureaucrat to grant you benevolence. And it’s usually a no. (See this piece that notes more than half of African visa applications to visit the 29 european countries in the Schengen region are rejected).
So the trip that was supposed to be with the daughter of my heart is me alone. And I don’t really have a desire to wander the streets of Vienna, Saltzburg and Budapest on my own — so I cobbled together a cycling trip.
Tomorrow, I’ll put together my disassembled bike with no backup. This will be a Feat — I’ve only really done that once, and it wasn’t this bike. Monday, I hope, I’ll wander and rest. Tuesday, I’ll take off on a little ~300 trip over four days, riding from Vienna to Bratislava, then onward to Budapest. I’ll take the train back to Vienna and come home. Totally self-supported. Pretty flat.
Flatter, anyway, than the extravaganza I did two weeks ago, when I did a gear shake out in Ontario. I took the train to the eastern end of the GO commuter line in Oshawa, rode to Peterborough and stayed overnight.
I had a few discoveries on that trip, not least of which was that you’re not allowed to take a bike on a Via train (!) and that Peterborough doesn’t have Uber. My route home was more problematic than I planned. I also discovered that google maps will take you on a bike path that is actually just a 5 km skinny sandtrap. Hence, 110 km instead of the planned 85. And 800 m of ascent.
But that’s cycle touring. There’s the pretty map, and then there’s every turn of the wheel under your feet. I’m pretty good at packing by now (ever smaller panniers for the win!) — but the world is ever surprising. Send me good wishes for the perfect temp and lots of cheese sandwiches.
Fieldpoppy is Cate C-D, who lives on Treaty 13 land and has Big Feelings about privilege and crossing borders.