My castle bike, has for the most part treated me well. (insert Well puns here). There was one day a couple weeks back when I went to ride it and the chain derailed. That day it took me at least 15 min. I'd been intending to go to town, but had to postpone that trip because by the time I'd washed the grease off I no longer had time to go before class.
Friday morning, we had to part with our bikes. In the morning before we had to return one of my lovely roommates, Melinda, and I took our last bike ride. We started off going through Old Well. I decide to try shifting the gears, and the chain derails. I'd successfully fixed it before, but this time the chain had fallen off both gears. As I worked to fix it, I commented to Melinda that ever body in Well probably knew how to fix a derailed chain.
Help came in the form of the dutch postman, pausing from his deliveries on the other side of the street to see if I needed help. At least I'm guess that's what he said, I only know a handful of dutch words. Using gestures, and pointing he guided me through the process of putting the chain back on. I didn’t have any trouble understanding him even though he spoke dutch throughout our interaction.
Bike up and running again, I thanked him with my one word of dutch (okay so not my one word, there are three that I use and I also have piked up a few food words like kaas). I happened to have napkins in my pocket, which I shared with him, he’d gotten a smidgen of grease on his fingers in the process of helping me. The postman returned to his bike and delivery rounds and then Melinda and I were off again, biking alongside the river.
Just under the bridge and past the animals, it derails again. A test of my new learned skill and we’re off again. Third times the charm. The rest of the bike ride was lovely. And that is the story of how the dutch postman taught me how to fix a derailed chain.
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