5.30am, July 2011: Three jet lagged Tai girls walking around their big Calgary house, trying to figure out where everything is and where all this space came from. Going from a 550 sq ft Parisian apartment to a 4000 sq ft house certainly is a shock. Slightly stunned they decide, now that it is light out, to hit the local pathways on their mountain bikes. Magnificent. This is not velib riding, negotiating their way amongst the cars, pedestrians and dog pooh on the streets of Paris. This is dirt, tree roots, long grass, hills, speed, and maybe even the occasional coyote. And we are back to being safe and Canadian, our cycling helmets tightly strapped to our noggins. Is this change good, or bad? I can't decide. I miss the noise, the hustle and bustle.
"This is glorious maman. You can't mountain bike like this in Paris," happily yells out 8-year-old Gabrielle.
She is right, this is glorious and the perfect start to our re-entry into our Canadian lives. Sometimes the perspective of a child is needed.
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