real life cycling

Steal the traffic cone, fall into the canal, and ride the Bianchi

The colour of a Bianchi bike is not turquoise, aquamarine, cyan, or teal. It’s Celeste.

Pronounced che-less-tay.

AKA Bianchi Green.

It’s Celeste in the same way the Yellow Jersey is yellow and the Polka Dot Jersey is spotty. It’s an inherent detail. The essence of the thing. The bit beyond the mechanics and the function that you want to form an emotional bond with.

A relationship to be consummated as soon as possible.

I’m not saying you should have sex with it.

I’m talking about a bike ride.

A long, sensuous, mutually pleasurable bike ride, but a bike ride nonetheless.

I was lucky enough to spend a week in Italy with a Bianchi back in April; a holiday romance, if you will, all consequence-free fun and whispered promises to continue back in the UK. Look at my picture of it in front of a sun-kissed Italian fountain and tell me, seriously, that any other colour would get the job done.

Trying to form an emotional bond with a non-Celeste Bianchi is a bit like drinking non-alcoholic beer. It’s essence is absent. It just doesn’t deliver. Yes, you may well manage to wander home, post-pub, without snaffling a traffic cone for your bedroom or falling into a canal, but is that what you want?

Really?

You either want a beer or you don’t.

And you want the post-beer anecdote too.

And yes, I realise that Bianchi sell their bikes in black, red, silver, and the like, but that doesn’t mean they should be bought. Or even ridden. I’m pretty sure the red ones, in particular, are just a test.

A mere picture on a website.

If you try to order a red Bianchi they almost certainly put your name on a list, send you a strongly worded letter, and disqualify you from buying anything Bianchi related for seven years.

Steal the traffic cone, fall into the canal, and ride the Bianchi.

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