A Copenhagener launches her bicycle into motion. She has a little Danish flag - Dannebrog, the world's oldest national flag - in her hair. I'm guessing she's heading to a birthday or other celebration.
Two Copenhageners launch off the lights in the rain. That magical moment when human powered transport begins.
We'll leave it up to Lars today - Lørdag [Saturday in Danish]. Brilliant shot. The little flowery thing in the hair is all the rage at the moment. O-ba-ma.
Steady as a rock. The light was just changing and the other cyclists were doing a double check for cars before pushing off. Some Copenhageners are in less of a hurry.
Philadelphia Cycle Chic from the website for Haley Trikes - a company that makes these cool cargo bikes. We posted about them over at Copenhagenize.com.
What a way to ride to the voting booth. Thanks to Todd in Minneapolis for sending us the link to the blog run by his and his wife [pictured] - RedBlackBrown.com. Heading down to vote in Saint Paul, Minnesota on a lovely fall day on a brand new Velorbis Victoria.
Listen up. It's time for the fifth sense in The Five Cycling Senses Series - Sound. Just as in the Smell post, we'll dance happily over the noise that motorized traffic produces by sticking our fingers in our ears and singing, "Lalala, I can't hear the cars!".
Bikes, by the nature of their design, are often quite silent as they roll through town. When you ride with so many other cyclists in Copenhagen, however, your ears are tuned to the sound - or non-sound - of other bikes. Your hearing adapts, dog-like, to the noise of a bike coming up from behind, even next to three lanes of cars. In the photo above, I'll bet the cyclists all know - even if sub-consciously - how many other cyclists are around them.
A recent visitor commented that the cyclists on the bike lanes don't shoulder check when overtaking. I told him to look more carefully and then he started noticing the subtle, quick head movement which seemed to confirm what the ears already knew. That the coast was clear for overtaking.
The soundtrack of urban cycling is composed by the city in which you ride. Personally, I love this symphony of cityness. Wifealiciousness and I, after a spell in the country, always remark how it's nice to be back in the city again. Not that we don't enjoy the country - one great thing is that you can hear your bike on the lanes or swishing through grass, with all the lovely creaks and squeaks. It's just nice to get back to The Big Smoke.
The Five Cycling Senses - Sound from Colville Andersen on Vimeo. I whipped up this little film wherein I explore six or so sounds relating to bikes in Copenhagen. You'll just hear the sounds at first and then afterwards you'll see the clip with the related sound. You can stop in the middle and guess if you want.
One of the few bicycle sounds that irritates me is the sound of gears. The odd Copenhagener with a multi-geared bike may, when accelerating off the light, hop past 5 or 10 or 22 gears to get to the one they want. This dreadful clickclickclickclickclick is the cyclo-equivilant of grinding the clutch.
Fortunately, it's rare. You'll often just hear that one little click when someone gears up. Actually, one of the aspects of Copenhagen bike culture is the complete disregard for gearing up or down. A friend of mine from Norway brought it to my attention. He noticed that most cyclists don't even bother with it and prefer starting in a heavy gear off the lights, even though it requires more muscle-power.
The sounds of cycling in Copenhagen include the obvious sound of human voices. Chatting with your friend or loved one as you ride. Side by side or on a cargo bike. Nothing beats the human voice engaged in a conversation while cycling. Even if it's a quick mobile phone chat.
Music can also be enjoyed on a bike. In this case, a concert on the City Hall Square.
One of my readers has asked me to continue with the senses and to include sixth sense and the lesser known "kinesthetic sense, balance and thermoception". Oh boy. I'll give it a shot!
Pure brilliance from my mate Lars, who is one of the top film composers in the land when not photographing on his way to work.
One of our esteemed readers sent us this link to a book titled Romancing The Dead. I know nothing about the book - I just like the Cycle Chic on the cover. Fits well into the It's Not Just Us category.
This Five Cycling Senses is an aesthetic series so I won't dwell too long on the obvious 'smell' factor regarding urban cycling - exhaust from motor vehicles. I'll just hurry up and link to this post over at Copenhagenize.com about how studies have shown that the level of polluting particles is higher INSIDE cars than next to them on a bike. So while we have to live with exhaust, we can pity the motorists.
And this post highlights how traffic [meaning pollution and noise] kills ten times more people than traffic accidents, so cycling is a fantastic, safe way to stay healthy.
And as with the cyclist on the lovely, wide bike lane above, we can just zip right past the cars anyway.
Meanwhile, back at the poetry... For me, when considering Smell in relation to urban cycling in Copenhagen, one thing pops instantly into my mind. Perfume.
Not a single day passes without perfume wafting up my nose on the bike lanes, and I'm not exaggerating. Cycling here is a fashionable affair [as if you haven't noticed that already] and perfume or cologne are second nature.
Whether having a fellow Copenhagener overtake me or just following in the slipstream, perfume adds aromatic colour to the urban landscape. Even waiting at the red light downwind of another cyclist, the scent of their perfume, or even their shampoo, often drifts your way. Nice aromas but it also heightens that sense of being close to your fellow citizens. It's personal, somehow, even if you're strangers.
I can't honestly remember any negative smell experiences involving sweat or body odour.
Certainly during the summer, the scent of suntan lotion is everywhere in the afternoons when people are heading home from the beaches.
Like in the post about Taste, I'm quite convinced that I can smell the seasons. The most strikingly aromatic season has to be autumn. The sweet organic smell of fallen leaves, intensified after the rain. The cooler air somehow sharpening the scent.
Surely we can taste sunlight? Whether in high-summer, mid-winter or in the early days of spring?
We can certainly smell the woods and the fields when we take shortcuts to work, and the seasons possess each their own unique combination of odours.
I'm quite sure we can agree that we can smell the rain.
I have this thing about water. Wherever possible I like to ride past it. Riding over the bridges in Copenhagen you'll always see people glancing to their right at the harbour. I suppose it's an addendum to the post about Sight, but the harbour has changeable scents, too. The salt water smell is vague and suggestive in the winter and richer in texture in the summer. The above film is comprised of stills that I took over six months on my way to work. I can smell the sea water just looking at the film.
A few years ago I rode in another direction out of town to work, past a lake outside the city limits. The scents were just as remarkable and rememberable - the latter word was not a word until just now - as on the harbour.
In the post about Taste, coffee was mentioned, and that applies to Smell. Whether your own coffee on the bike or someone next to you. Not a bad aroma.
Autumn is in full swing and winter is around the corner. The bicycles roll on. The good people at SWIMS in Norway have already developed fine products to protect your bespoke footwear from the seasonal elements. Here in Copenhagen you'll have fenders on your bike to protect your much-loved Paul Smiths or your trousers/stockings to some degree from the spray when riding to work but when you invest in quality footwear and clothing, it's not a bad idea to have a bit of extra protection. Like the dapper chap above and below. We've blogged about SWIMS before but now we've chatted with them and recieved some great photos, too. They adhere to the time-honoured mantra of Scandinavian design: simple, practical, elegant. Galoshes will never be the same again. They are on the cusp of launching a new product so we're pleased to present a little world premiere here: The City Slipper is the new product from SWIMS this season. Given the fact that urban cycling in high heels is a normal part of life in Copenhagen and many other European cities, it's a welcome addition to the urban landscape. Whether you are just riding to work in your workhorse Louboutins or heading off to a smashing fancy do with the who's who in the evening, if the forecast calls for precipitation of any kind, why not equip yourself with the City Slipper. Like with all of SWIMS products, there is a host of colours to choose from. At time of writing, the City Slipper has yet to premiere on the SWIMS website or in the SWIMSSTORE, but they are right around the corner. SWIMS will work hard protecting your footwear, but they are apparently not designed to help you avoid frizzy hair associated with humid, moist weather. Now you know.
In a way I covered Taste in an earlier post about Eating and Drinking on Your Bike. All manner of snacks or beverages can be enjoyed while cycling through the urban landscape. Nothing like sipping a hot coffee on your way to work or crunching your way through an apple in the afternoon. So apart from this addition - a very important aspect of life in Copenhagen... beer: ... I'll get all philosophical on your asses.
Felix, in the photo at the top, is tasting snowflakes while cyclists plow through the snow behind him. Which made me think... can we taste the weather on our bicycles?
On a below zero morning, the cold winter air catches in our throats and chills our lungs. I love it. Getting to the throat and the lungs, the air has to pass the tongue. I am quite convinced that I can taste the cold air - crisp and sweet all at once.
And what of the morning light? Does it not possess a taste all it's own? I don't think I can HEAR the light, but tasting it... oh yes. What does it taste like to you? A peach? A freshly baked roll from the oven?
Or the low, melancholy light of evening, for that matter?
I was reminded of one sure taste experience. Riding home from the beach on a hot summer's day you may catch yourself licking your lips and tasting the salt of the sea after a swim.
And the sweetest taste of all. A kiss. Can't forget that one.
Taste is a tricky one. Feel free to contribute your thoughts in the Comments section.
. I know nothing about the book - I just like the Cycle Chic on the cover. Fits well into the 
