WA LL T ER R A IN CYCLING
Why does Berlin have so many more cyclists than London? Rob Ainsley has some ideas...
“Berlin’s cyclefriendliness is mainly down to attitude, culture and expectation”
The world’s widest cycle path is in Berlin. It’s wider than some Sustrans routes are long. I don’t know exactly how wide, because when I paced it out, I had to break for lunch. It’s the old runway of Tempelhof Airport, which closed in 2005. Rather than flog it off to developers, Berlin repurposed the entire area as a popular leisure park. Ever cycled over the runway from Spain into Gibraltar? This is better. You can cycle, jog, or skate along all the old, still smooth, tarmac runways and approaches. You can taxi along and turn into the wind for take-off. It was a nice change to be with a bike at an airport and not have to dismantle it, box it and unnecessarily deflate the tyres.
I’ve just had five days in Berlin without a plan, but with a bike, and that’s all you need. I did parks, museums, cafes and off-piste ethnic bars. And the big-ticket ride: the Berlin Wall circuit, surprisingly long (over 100 miles) and rural – more like a rail-trail than a border path, though with grimmer associations than, say, the post-Beeching Eastbourne to Heathfield line. It’s worth giving it three days, partly to savour the variety, partly to maximise kaffee und kuchen opportunities.
Berlin is a thriving everyday-cycling city: seven bikes for every 10 residents, 13 per cent of journeys made on two wheels (cf London’s three per cent). Most locals ride hybrids with mudguards and pannier rack; full-on road bikes are few. You see many vintage drop-bar models though, modified for the city, often ridden by sleeve-tattooed, half-shaven-headed, top-knotted, lobe-stretched hipsters, equally modified for the city.
It’s no Copenhagen. It has car-clogged streets, nastily busy main roads and casualties like many busy cities. But compared with Britain, cycling here is like eating a kebab: given the choice of doing it in Berlin or London, you’d take Berlin every time. It’s better quality, cheaper and more fun.
Why? Well, there’s public-transport convenience. (Berlin’s frequent trains, underground and trams all take bikes.) Fast, affordable rail access to the rest of the continent. (Long-haul trains often provide special carriages for cyclists, sitting you next to your bike.) Flat terrain. (The Wall’s watchtowers had commanding views of aspiring pole-vaulters.) And the bike-sized basement storage space in flats.
Note that it’s not the infrastructure. Berlin’s ‘cycle network’, like London’s, is a haphazard mix of good to bad segregated cycleways, shared-use paths, hectic roads, messy roadworks and one-way streets that are two-way for cyclists. There are cobbles and tramlines to cope with. Signage isn’t great, and often I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just followed the locals, often along pavements and absent-mindedly into a basement bike storage, before I realised.
No, Berlin’s cycle-friendliness is mainly down to attitude, culture, expectation. Getting around its urban sprawl by bike feels normal, not the preserve of helmeted young male professionals with SPDs. Drivers cut you more slack than in London, and I was told that Berlin’s police only chase up red-light jumpers or pavement riders if they cause an accident.
London’s still fighting battles (eg Kensington and Chelsea blocking a much-needed new cycleway) but some tides are turning (eg the City, once resolutely anti-cycling, is now pro-, purely on the business case, not sentiment). How can we help, when not everyone has the time or resources to campaign?
Easy: ride, ride, ride. The more of us out on the road, the less councils can portray us as a ‘minority enthusiasm’. Yes, striving for better cycling facilities can feel like banging your head against a brick wall. But, shortly after the East’s leaders insisted the wall would be up for another 100 years, Berlin’s came down. Here’s to barrier-free cycling. On smooth, wide paths.