I turned 20 this year, and until 2 weeks ago, I still couldn’t ride a bike.
There I was , a grown adult, clinging to handlebars like they might sprout wings and save me, while my friends (bless their patience) took turns running besides me in the sweltering Hong Kong heat. “Just pedal” they’d scream, as if it were that simple. My knees bore the evidence of every attempt: scrapes that stung under the afternoon sun.
Then came the egg tart incident.
I wobbled and crashed spectacularly right outside a tiny bakery, sending a flock of pigeons scattering in fear. The shop auntie rushes out, not to scold me, but to press a fresh egg tart into my dusted hands. She ordered “eat”. It was still warm, the custard trembled slightly, the pastry shattering at the smallest amount of pressure. In that hilarious moment, sticky fingers and laughing, I understood something: sometimes, you have to fall to find the sweetness in the journey.
Why Travel Needs To Fall Forward
The egg tart was a turning point not just in my biking career, but in how I saw movement itself. Travel isn’t just about ticking off landmarks, it’s about how we move through spaces. The UN says we need to cut emissions (Goal 13) and build sustainable cities (Goal 11). But how ? maybe it starts by refusing to be a passive observer in a taxi backseat.
Two Wheels One Lesson
Once I had finally learned, Hong Kong transformed. Cycling through Kennedy town at dawn, the air salty and thick with the promise of beef noodles steaming somewhere. Coasting past dried seafood shops, no windshield separating me from the city’s pulse, just the hum of tires on the pavement and my own breath.
I began choosing bikes over buses, legs over laziness. Each hill I conquered felt like a middle finger to carbon emission, and when I found myself lost, I would discover hole-in-the-wall cafes where baristas remembered my orders giving me a sense of pride.
The Ripple Effect of Wobbly Beginnings
Sustainability became very tangible:
My water bottle (though dented from drops) replaced hundreds of plastic ones.
My tote bag (provided by the PolyU campus) carried wet market lychees and mangoes without a shred of guilt.
And finally my voice, which once was shy, started nudging friends towards MTR rides instead of taxis.
But the real victory? That bakery aunty now recognises me, not as the awful bike disaster, but as the girl who stops every Wednesday for two tarts (one for me, and one for whoever’s biking with me).
The Journey Ahead
I used to think sustainability was about sacrifice. Now I know about preserving the moments that matter: the taste of custard after a fall, the way golden hour hits Victoria Harbour and when you’re pedalling fast enough to outrun your shadow.
So here’s my pledge: to keep moving consciously, to leave places better than I found them, and to always brake for egg tarts.
