I’m just a girl, standing in front of a Voi, asking it to love her.
The addition of e-bikes to the streets of Glasgow has changed the game. I’m not proud to admit that the analogue CityBikes, which previously covered the pavements, never once sparked my attention – even when I found out most students in Glasgow could ride them for free. I’m just not drawn to public physical exertion – sue me! The pink stallions that now await me in hoards at every corner are much more my speed (which is a maximum of 26mph, and 30-odd mph when going down University Avenue, in case you were curious). In the words of a certain Bob Dylan – I’ve gone electric. They have unlocked a whole new way to see the city for so many people. I’ve seen commuters resting their briefcases in the ample-sized baskets; high schoolers waiting anxiously outside corner shops for their friend’s brother to emerge with a prohibited pack of tinnies before riding off to their coveted hang out spot; or students wobbling their way home from nights out, desperate to avoid steep Uber prices. If you’re my friend and you’re able, I’ve forced you onto a Voi. My newfound love language is adding you to a group ride, spending those extra couple of pounds to have you ride alongside me through the streets we call home.
These new ‘whips’ are far from unique to Glasgow – if anything, Glasgow’s simply jumping on the bandwagon. First spawning on the streets of Stockholm in 2018 in the form of e-scooters, it wasn’t long before stops were cropping up all over Europe, the rest of Scandinavia, and eventually the UK. One thing that connects post-Voi cities such as Stockholm, Barcelona, and Glasgow is just that – connection. When citizens have the opportunity to access their city by means other than cars, a special relationship is formed between the individual and the location, as well as between individuals and the people they share their streets with. Despite being shaped like bikes, Vois are really keys: not only do they unlock new routes to uni and work, but they reveal that even in mundane, predictable activities – such as commuting – there remain opportunities for deliberate interactions that remind you of your ties to your city and its people. Being on a bike forces you to be considerably more considerate of your surroundings than if you were getting about on foot or by car. I’ve found there’s an objective vulnerability when navigating Glasgow by Voi, because you really don’t know for certain if the motorised vehicles around you are going to let you get across the Byres Road intersection in one piece. However, the same can be said by pedestrians who glance vigilantly in all directions when obeying the green man’s command, crossing their fingers and toes that they’re not about to be taken out by a lawless flash of pink and pedals. It’s a beautiful thing when these worst-cases don’t play out, because it proves the existence of a symbiotic trust between the people of our city. Something as unremarkable as abiding by the highway code suddenly becomes an unspoken act of care between unassuming strangers. Moreso, being the one on the bike forces you to care for your physical city. Keen observation is of utmost necessity to keep yourself and others safe, meaning you’re forced into noticing things about the city you’ve never clocked before, even if they’re fleeting. For instance, I was once on a ‘Voiage’ down Bank Street when I hit what I’d describe as a poor attempt at a speed bump, which caused my wallet to go flying out of the basket of my bike, leaving my cards scattered between potholes. Upon screeching to a halt, I noticed a passerby had stopped to help retrieve said cards and was holding them out, ready for me to return them to the evidently precarious basket location. This interaction taught me three things: 1. Don’t underestimate the uneven terrain on Bank Street; 2. Don’t overestimate the security of a loose wallet in a Voi basket; and 3. The people of Glasgow are very nice, even when they don’t need to be! This occasion still jumps out at me as a moment of pure, unadulterated connection between myself and my physical surroundings, and myself and a stranger. And it couldn’t have happened without my dear, dear Voi.
These instances of connection are only made possible when a city is accessible, and Voi bikes are a pedal in the right direction. I recommend hopping on one the next time you’re running late for a lecture, or when leaving a friend’s place late at night and you just want to be home in bed already. My favourite routes are from the stop right outside my flat to Lidl, the stop right outside my flat to uni, and the stop right outside my flat to town (what I would do if there wasn’t a stop right outside my flat, I’d hate to imagine). For those of you who don’t live in my flat, the cycle from the West End to Queens Park is a lovely one, and a great excuse to explore the Southside. Similarly, get those spokes spinning over towards the East End – it’s really not as far as you think!
In a time when people no longer know their neighbours’ names, or what the street two blocks over is called, I think it to be more important than ever that we increase the connection and care we extend to our fellow Glaswegians, as well as Glasgow itself, wherever and whenever we have the chance. And for a mere 16p per minute, Voi bikes offer that to us on pink electric platters. At the risk of sounding sponsored, I say take the time to hop on a Voi, move those legs, and see the city and its people in a way you perhaps haven’t had the pleasure of doing so before – especially while the sun’s still shining and deadlines are still a semi-foreign concept!
