Tur in 2002. Tonight I'm riding my bike. A bicycle alone gets lost, swallowed up in the city traffic. A group of bicycles, on the otherth hand, breaks the traffic. They modify it, slow it down, restructure it, defining new times and ways. e rhythm gets slower. Dream comes closer to reality. As by magic, it takes a shorter time to go from one place to another.Traffic jams turn into a slower but more regular flow. The society, fragmented into small and noisy tin boxes, is rearranged into a colourful mosaic of people pedalling together. Tensions are released and you rediscover the pleasure of talking to each other. Laughter and jokes are on people's mouth again. A sudden flash, the dream dissolves. Traffic rebels, spitting out bile and horns. Reality is back.The monster is tamed only in part. It wriggles fiercely as if it was trapped. Only a group can calm it down. The number of bicycles is crucial. A multitude which gets together. We must dare to free the bicycle wheels from the traffic workings, we must be a "conscious mass".
