Going brompton
Three years of saving. Red Brompton. Finally mine.
I tried my roommate’s for a few seconds and knew I’d buy one. The engineering is beautiful—every fold, every hinge, every detail considered.
The real problem it solved: my weekly train to Paris. VLille (Lille’s bike sharing) is unreliable. Stations empty when the evening train arrives, bikes out of order. I was walking home too often.
Now: +15 minutes of sleep, +15 minutes earlier at work, +15 minutes later leaving, +15 minutes earlier home. An hour reclaimed every day.
Folded, it fits anywhere on the TGV. No bigger than cabin luggage. People expect small wheels to mean discomfort—they’re wrong. Only rough cobblestones remind you there’s no suspension.
Bromptons spread through friends. I see more of them in Lille than in Paris. Maybe because we’re closer to London.
I’m a fan.