My journeys always start the same way. Aboard my gloss-black, fixed-gear Tokyobike bicycle, I join a swarm of others who, at each green light, make the city their own. At my side are parents, pensioners and police; students, salarymen and shopkeepers. Children bike themselves to school -- solo, of course -- alongside centenarians picking up groceries.
In the decade before moving to Tokyo, I lived in Melbourne and Hong Kong, two very different cities for cycling. The former offered ever-improving infrastructure despite an unhealthy obsession with the car, which went hand in hand with a widespread preference for living as far from the city center as possible. My own commute, however, was faultless. I could follow the banks of the Yarra River, avoiding the road all the way to my office.
