The Guardian

Beijing, May 22:

I have recently bought an environmentally friendly endangered species: a bicycle. It is definitely not a case of moving with the times. A few years ago, Beijing was probably the most bicycle-friendly capital on Earth. A flat, dry city with broad, tree-lined cycle lanes patrolled by protective traffic wardens was perfect for two wheels. The streets teemed with so many bicycles that they became as much a symbol of China as the giant panda. But now they are under threat as their habitat — the city’s network of bicycle lanes — shrinks, and predators, in the form of cars, increase at the rate of 20,000 a month. It is as though China’s economic and urban planners have a new mantra: four wheels rich, two wheels poor. The richness of bicycle life in Beijing is still evident from the plethora of subspecies. As well as standard models churned out by domestic manufacturers such as Pigeon, Phoenix and Forever, there is a dizzying array of customised vehicles. Some have trailers on which entire families are ferried around. Others are turned into flat-backed cargo-carriers, occasionally loaded so high that only the rider’s pedalling legs can be seen.

I opted for a Taiwanese-made mountain bike, not an obvious choice for city that does not have a single hill. But the sturdy frame, reliable brakes and spring-loaded suspension come in handy in a city where cyclists, once the kings of the road, have been relegated to third-class citizens. It is not deliberate. Bicycles just don’t matter as they used to. Thirty years ago, Beijingers considered themselves affluent if they owned a bike, a radio and a sewing machine. The equivalent today is a car, a TV and a computer. Last November, the city dropped registration requirements for bicycles. A few months earlier, the annual four yuan bike tax was abolished. There is no risk of extinction. Estimates of the number of bicycles in the city range from four million to ten million. But transport analysts say the average Beijinger travels 60 per cent less by bike than 10 years ago and those journeys are becoming dirtier and more dangerous.

Beijing has become infatuated with the car. Vehicle numbers have doubled in less than five years to more than two million. Urban planners have been happy to accommodate these economic engines by building thousands of miles of multi-lane roads, often at the expense of bike lanes. There are remarkably few complaints. My Chinese teacher, Song Laoshi, prefers to commute on two wheels. But as a middle-aged Beijinger, he can understand the allure of Honda, Volkswagen and Citroen. “When I was a child, we used to walk miles to the nearest big road and then just stand and wait. You will never guess why. We wanted a car to pass so that we could breathe in the fumes. For us, that was really exciting.” These days, the air of Beijing is choked with exhaust emissions. Along with the grit and dust from building sites and sandstorms, that makes bike riding tougher on the lungs than the legs. It is not the only hazard. Drivers frequently invade the bike path, blaring their horns at anyone who gets in their way. The closer to the city centre, the lower the status of the bike. Soon after the fifth ring road, the bicycle lane halves in width, even though the number of users (which sometimes include horse-drawn carts) more than quadruples. But it still beats travelling by car, and often is quicker.