Una Ragazza on Play: Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!

Un Ragazzo has many passions. A child of the 70's who grew up in a music-loving household of film buffs with a curious streak of his own and a love for the outdoors, he is the ultimate Jack of all trades and certainly master of several. These are a few of his favorite things: the Beatles, camping, playing the guitar and drums, fishing, healthy cooking, shooting pool, rock climbing and surfing.

But combine all of these and double the dose of passion, and you will probably just get a whiff of how he truly feels for his numero uno: the bicycle.

I remember being asked to guess what his favorite sport was when we first met, working off the hint that it requires patently unflattering clothing.

"Skiing. Curling. Ah -- cycling!" I said with satisfaction.

The iconic bike on my neighborhood block belonging to a bike-crazed neighbor

For a Singaporean girl who grew up a geek with her nose perpetually in books or essays and being told extracurricular activities were distracting and unedifying, I did not learn to swim, let alone balance on a bicycle, until just months before entering college. I thus find his eagerness to ride the bike every day endearing and his excitement in every international cycling tour refreshing.

The kid race before the big-people races

During the first year we hung out, I allowed myself to gain armchair knowledge about cycling in which I had little prior information. I found myself really enjoying three things:

First, the landscapes through which the cyclists of Le Tour de France, Il Giro d'Italia and La Vuelta a España meander are simply breathtaking. Watching every stage of these cycling tours seems like the perfect product placement for the French, Italian and Spanish national tourism boards.

Second, the language of cycling is French, and that is music to my francophile ears.Le peloton, le maillot jaune, un soigneur, la tête de course, la flamme rouge, un panier... Understanding the sport's lingo made me feel like I'm almost a fan of these classic cycling races.

Lastly, the cycling kit. To the non-cyclist, the kit may look like the modern-day twist to the Papal Swiss Guard uniform, especially in certain bright colors. After having had multiple opportunities to check it out at close proximity, I now think it looks great on the cyclist who regularly cycles. The extreme tan lines, I learnt too, is a mark of pride.

Looking chic in orange and blue

Over time, slowly but surely, Un Ragazzo's excitement about cycling started to rub off on me... to the point that I decided it may not be such a bad idea to buy a foldable bicycle.

"Do you think it makes sense for me to buy a bike?" I asked with feigned nonchalance one day.

Un Ragazzo's eyes lit up as he momentarily tore himself away from the Tour of Flanders race on TV.

"Of course! Why not? You may even be able to get rid of your subway metro card and ride straight to the office. Think of the health benefits! I can look into a few models for you..."

To his credit, Un Ragazzo never once pushed me into taking up the sport. It was his contagious enthusiasm that eventually swayed me into dipping my toes into this unchartered territory. After all, I'm a self-confessed klutz with no sense of balance who occasionally has difficulty even walking in a straight line on the sidewalk while keeping up a conversation.

That weekend, we walked a good 50 blocks along the bike path down the West Side Highway to get to a bicycle shop in Midtown. Now that I'd decided to buy one, I found myself beginning to be more aware of cyclists on the streets. And there were a lot of them. For a novice like myself, somehow that increased my level of anxiety. Shucks, more people to witness how much I suck at this.

Taking my new toy out for a ride by the Boat Basin and in my 'hood

And boy, did I suck. The week the bike arrived, it took me two days to psych myself up to take it out of the apartment. When I did, I ended up walking it instead of riding it for a good 15 minutes before mounting it: the streets of New York with its irreverent drivers seemed all too ready to run me over. When I eventually did get on the bike, I got off five times in the span of three blocks. Each time a vehicle drove by, I was seized with fear that it would swerve into my path and so I would nervously preempt that with a dangerous, sudden stop. Each time, I'd add a bruise or two to my poor legs.

War wounds from the first week of riding

Despite the injuries, my bike handling skills somewhat improved over time, and the new set of wheels soon gave me a new sense of freedom and a new way of looking at the city. In the last few years, Mayor Bloomberg has played a big part in pushing for a more pedestrian- and bike-friendly Manhattan. Big sections of streets in Times Square and Herald Square are now off-limits to cars and buses and multiple bike lanes have been added throughout the island. Bike Month NYC is also gaining popularity, with hordes of riders taking over the streets in May.

From a practical point of view, it really does make sense for everybody to ride a bike instead of to drive. It takes up a lot less space, can be faster during morning rush hours, and helps you exercise. I found myself talking about biking every now and then, so much so that a friend teased me about getting all giddy and wrapped up in Un Ragazzo's sport.

Imagine my pleasant surprise when Hollywood landed in my new Upper West Side neighborhood and picked my block as the location for a full week of shooting Premium Rush, a movie starring a bike messenger who picks up a package from Columbia University and catches the attention of a dirty cop. As I stood on the sidewalk with my Whole Foods groceries in my granny cart, Joseph Gordon-Levitt of 500 Days of Summer fame zipped by in a red shirt and funky helmet, along with an entourage of actors driving yellow cabs to complete the chase scene.

Yellow signs pasted on every other tree on my block announcing the movie shoot

Movie crew from Premium Rush readies the scene on an early Saturday morning

Joseph Gordon-Levitt as the bike messenger in Premium Rush

What a treat, I thought. Even the cinema directors are cashing in on the increasing popularity of what was once considered a poor man's car.

"So I guess that's a 'yes' to joining me on the Tour?" Un Ragazzo said with a twinkle in his eye, as he watched me being mesmerized by the bike chase.

The decision wasn't hard. Oui -- and oui again! -- to spending a week in the French Alps to chase Le Tour de France riders.

After all, if I were to get tired of seeing too many toned men in tights, I always have French wine, cheese and terrine to turn to, wouldn't I?

Some madames and monsieurs on a field trip to watch Le Tour de France in the countryside

Radioshack's Lance during stage 9 of his final Tour

(Some pictures taken from the Internet)