[I have written a separate post that describes the updates to the Vélib’ system that appeared in Spring 2011 here. Considering the two main changes are pricing options and availability to Americans, I encourage everyone to read this pieces and then read the update to have their excitement renewed (or enhanced).]
Using a bicycle in Paris, even for tourists, is more or less a must. The Parisian government will even reimburse you part of the cost of an electric bicycle in their attempt to green up the streets (as well as reduce congestion).1 The city is great for walking, and I’ve certainly worn out shoes in new and interesting ways logging kilometer after kilometer on foot. Additionally, the Métro is reasonable, not terribly expensive, and reliable. But nothing beats a bicycle, which rests at the perfect intersection of speed, convenience, reliability, and green police self-righteousness. Considering that Paris proper is about an hour “tall” (N–S) and about 90 minutes “wide” (E–W) by bicycle, it would be crazy not to ride, ride, ride everywhere.
Now though this post will be mostly about the Vélib’ system in Paris, the section on bicycling in general will have some useful tips for future tourists who may choose to rent bicycles.2 The Vélib’ system is certainly not perfect, and adding a layer of public transportation to the already very well connected city of Paris proper, while leaving the banlieues still badly connected, is a bit of a slap to the suburban folk. But I live in Paris, and buying a Vélib’ pass has been one of the best decisions I have made.
Many of the links in this post link to photos I have taken of the Vélib’ experience.
This post is split into three parts:
The Vélib’ system itself
I could, of course, recreate much of the Vélib’ wikipedia page and describe the history of the system and so on. But the key point is that the system manages some 20k bicycles and over 1000 stations scattered around Paris and the very near edges of the city. As you can see from the “Trouver une station” map provided by the Vélib’ folks, there’s a giant purple blob of stations larger than Paris itself. The independent webpage Vélib’erator lists 29 banlieues in all three departments surrounding Paris with stations. Wikipedia estimates that within the city, one is never more than 300m from a station, and that seems to be about right.3
Bikes are redistributed throughout the system by trucks that carry a dozen or so bicycles at once. It has been my experience that parking “downtown” is tough during the day, and that something like a mere half hour can radically change the composition of a station, from bike heavy to place heavy. If I worked regular hours and had no app to help me find stations with open parking spots or available bicycles (see below), Vélib’ would be very frustrating. But then there are inexplicable fluctuations as well. Generally, my personal experience has been that usually I can, even without a smartphone, find a bike at the first station I go to. If not that, then usually the second. Parking usually works on the first or second station. Late at night on weekends, of course, social life centers will often be totally emptied out of bicycles (drunk Vélib’ing seems rather popular with youths).
Before I had an app, I would usually note the three or four stations around my final destination ahead of time, should the first pick station be full. And though, yes, I have spent 15 minutes bicycling around the neighborhood looking for an open station (finally ending up about 500m from my destination), I have also had a bike get dropped off just as I was cursing a station for being totally without bikes.
Busted bikes (often noted with a reversed seat) are usually cleaned up pretty quickly, and I’ve seen them busted in many, many ways, including rather obviously mauled by trucks. The most common problem, by far, is a flat tire. The second most common will be the chainguard catching the crank, making it impossible to pedal.
There’s no way to report a busted bike, so I can’t let the system know if my bike has loose brakes or a crummy transmission. If I only see one bike available at a station, however, I will usually assume it’s busted. Bornes–the bike posts–can also be busted, in which case an orange block is put into the lock. And sometimes, there will be a borne with a red light but a bike attached to it. This means that, for whatever reason, that bike is ungettable. I’ve also seen a station have its electricity knocked out, leaving 50 bikes unavailable. I walked home that day.
Each station is made up of a set of bornes and a little kiosk. One one side of the kiosk, there is a local map showing nearby stations and a little keypad and LCD display. This side is used by people who are already in the system. It provides a means of finding nearby stations with bikes available if your station is empty, or with bornes available if your station is completely full. The problem is that the readout displays stations by number, but it often includes stations that are not on the map, as the maps are of a section of the arrondissement, so the station is rarely centered on the map. Luckily, for those of you with smartphones, Vélib’erator has a mobile version of its webpage that can help you find those stations. Even more usefully, JCDecaux, who run the Vélib’ system as well as others around the world, have finally published an iPhone app, AllBikesnow, that uses the iPhone’s geolocation system to find nearby stations and tell you how many bikes–or spots!–are available.4 This side of the kiosk is also used to enter in your information to earn a 15 minute credit, should the station be full, so you can find another station to park your bike without penalty.
The other side of the kiosk, and this is not true at all stations, has a small LCD screen and a credit card reader. This side is mostly used by people who are not yet in the system, and who would like to get either a daily pass or a weekly pass. Annual passes, like I have, are not available to order at the kiosk.
A weekly pass costs 5€, and a daily pass costs 1€. The clock starts ticking as soon as the pass is bought. Unfortunately for American tourists and students, buying a pass is pretty much impossible, since one needs a bank card with a chip (photo of “la puce”) in it in order to get the pass. I have tried all of my American credit cards, and none of them works. Only my boring carte bleue from BNP Paribas allows me to get a Vélib’ pass.
In addition to a card with a puce, there must be an available balance on the card of at least 150€. When the pass is bought, Vélib’ puts an instant hold on 150€ (as a deposit on the bike) in the account, rendering that money unavailable. I think the English equivalent would be a debit that is “processing.” At the end of the week, the hold disappears, and only a 5€ charge from Vélib’ remains. One can get as many passes as one likes with the same carte bleue, as long as there remain the 150€ to cover each bike separately. This is why I think hotels should offer passes to guests, and whatever Vélib’ charges are passed on on the hotel bill.
The pass is a simple card stock receipt with a code on it. It is sturdier than a regular receipt, but it clearly will not last much longer than a week. Annual pass holders can access the panel on the kiosk by touching their cards to the card reader, but weekly and daily pass holders have to type in the code on the card.
The annual pass one applies for by mail by sending a check for the subscription (29€), an application form, and a RIB (if you don’t know what one is, you don’t live in France, so you don’t need a yearly pass). Then about three months later, a card comes in the mail. I have no idea if three months is the normal wait time, or how one renews the card, but that is that. I would imagine that having a non-French bank account is a complete non-starter for this.
One can also attach their Vélib’ pass to a Navigo pass, but I don’t know how to do all that.
As a final note on the system, some stations are designated “bonus” stations, and the user earns a 15-minute bonus for leaving the bike there. They are usually at the tops of steep climbs, and the system rewards a user for making the climb.
The Vélib’ bike and using it
The bikes the Vélib’ system uses are, most notably, really heavy. There is no escaping their weight. I have had friends tell me that they will simply rule out taking Vélib’ up into the hilly parts of the 20th Arrondissement, for example, since dragging that extra 25kg or so is simply not worth it. But their weight makes them less attractive for theft, which is nice.
The bikes have three speeds with a hub transmission changed via grip-shifter (opposite a bell on the left handlebar).5 The smallest gear should be adequate for any sort of hills Paris throws one’s way. The biggest gear is not at all big, and establishing a quick pace on the machine is pretty much impossible, especially on downhills. I tend to shift a lot on normal bikes, but on a Vélib’ I’m usually in third gear the entire time, except when I want to explode off the line or try to navigate a narrow passage between traffic and parked cars, when I’ll usually downshift to second or even first for extra control in traffic. The transmission is probably the first thing to go on a bike, and I have several times ridden bikes with transmissions that were unresponsive or late. Once I rode all the way home with a bike locked in first gear. It was a nightmare on downhills and a farce on uphills. The bikes typically do not have trouble staying in gear.
The bikes have a headlight and a taillight, both of which are powered by dynamos. I think there is some battery in them, since the lights will often still be lit when I park the bike. We’re told to check the status of the lights when we unlock a bike, but I never do. Paris is reasonably well lit even late at night, so I often don’t notice the headlight.
As a kickstand, the bikes have a motorcycle-style V that lifts the rear wheel off the ground. Because the bikes have no crossbar, a cyclist cannot lean the bike against his or her thigh. Several times my bike has toppled over as I forgot this. So the kickstand is a necessity for nearly any kind of quick adjustments to the saddle or anything.
The saddle is on a quick-release, and there are two kinds of releases: those that use a rubber washer for tension, and those that use a metal washer. The metal ones kill me–I persistently have trouble with them, since I can never get the tension right enough so that I can both close the release lever and also have the saddle stay in place. I have started picking bikes by the saddle height as a pre-set, since dealing with raising and lowering the saddle has become an annoyance.
Each bike has two sets of brakes. The mechanisms are well-hidden, which makes me suspect they are drum brakes. Finding a bicycle with loose brakes is the second most common “well, good enough” problem for a bike to have, after a finicky transmission.
Finally, attached to the front basket, each bike has a security cable, that permits one to lock the bike to a fence or a tree for a few minutes to run an errand (hit an ATM, buy a baguette). The cable locks into a lock built into the frame, which makes a tiny key pop out. I did not know about this lock until I got a second generation bike, which illustrates the process on the handlebars.
Renting a bike with a paper pass is then a three step process: one finds a bike that seems to be in good shape. Personally, I squeeze both tires and lift the rear wheel and pedal through once or twice to see if there are problems in the drivetrain. Others also check the brakes and lights. Next, one notes the borne number, goes to the kiosk, punches in the Vélib’ pass code and the borne number. Finally, one hustles back to the borne to unlock the bike by pressing the silver unlock button. Annual users can just press their cards to the borne and not interact with the kiosk.
Once the bike is unlocked, The first half hour of use is free. The second half hour costs 1€. The third half hour is 2€, and the fourth and all subsequent half hours are 4€ apiece. Taking a Vélib’ bike for eight hours, then, would cost 31€, if my math is right.
If a bike sucks and the user wants a new one, he or she can immediately return the bike. There is, however, a two-minute (I’m told) grace period during which time a new bike cannot be rented. Usually if a bike sucks for me, I just return it and walk to the nearest other station. I have used Vélib’ over 100 times already, though, and only once or twice had a bike that was totally unusable even after passing my tire/drivetrain tests.
Bicycling in Paris in general
Many people, even Paris natives, have told me that they are afraid to bicycle in Paris, adding surprise that I do so more or less every day. In comparison to bicycling in Chicago, I would say that cycling in Paris is far, far safer, despite (though perhaps occasionally also because of) higher congestion. There are two main reasons for the feeling of safety: the bike lanes (pistes cyclables) and, surprisingly, scooters.
There are four kinds of pistes cyclables in Paris, and no complete maps of them. The city provides a half-finished map, and they also claim about 400km of lanes now, with about 600km by 2013. The most basic lane is just a bicycle icon painted on the street, much like what most of Chicago bike lanes are like. Next, most main streets (more than one lane wide) have a dedicated bus lane. Bicycles are allowed to use the bus lanes (as are taxis), and this works simply brilliantly in both high traffic and low traffic situations. In high traffic, the bike can use the bus lane to zoom up to the front at a red light. In low traffic, the bike can just scream, without even thinking about traffic (no buses, and taxis only veer into the lane when they need to). Some large boulevards, like Boulevard de Port-Royal, are split into two sets of one-lane, two-way traffic: two lanes of bus / bike and two lanes for regular cars. This is murder to pedestrians, who have to cross the street twice looking both ways twice. But it’s still fewer things in the bike’s lane that the bike has to worry about. Fantastic.
The third kind of lane is a bike path embedded into a sidewalk. Much of the south run of the Boulevards des Maréchaux is made up of this sort of path. I find this a sloppy solution, since pedestrians routinely (myself included) drift into the lanes by accident. Furthermore, though the curbs have ramps, it’s not fun going up and down all the time. But the main worry is the pedestrians.
The fourth lane is I think rather unique to France, the contresens cyclable, or, as it’s now called, the double-sens cyclable. This is a lane separated from the car lane by a large curb, and the lane goes against the traffic of the cars. As a result, many streets that are one-way for cars end up being two-way for bikes, rendering the “driving directions” in Google Maps rather suspect when one is driving a bicycle. This lane is great since it ends up being amazingly safe: cars cannot even fit into it, and pedestrians cannot accidentally wander into it, since it involves stepping off a curb. The contresens cyclable also increases the safety for drivers, since now bicycles are not quite a threat when they give into temptation and ride the wrong way on a one-way.
So the very surface of the Paris transportation network lends itself to making riding a bicycle more safe. My ride to work, for example, is probably about 70% along bike lanes, mostly of the bus/bike variety.
But even where lanes are unavailable, there are a few other features that make riding a bike feel safe, and they are mostly the result of the scooter, or moto. Motos are the drops of water in the street grid, flowing into every little corner imaginable and taking every little risk possible. Motos in Paris are not fey little Vespas driven by hipsters showing off for the girls (though there are those, too). They are often built like tanks, featuring extensive all-weather draping schemes and huge windscreens. A man on a moto in rush hour Paris looks much more like Darth Vader than a struggling musician with a silly haircut. And the drivers pilot their machines more like Darth Vader than anything else. Any little gap emerges, and a moto will fill it within seconds. If I ever pull into the center of a lane, a moto will shoot past the car behind me and squeeze into the gap I’ve made with my bike. The line at a red light will usually be all motos (who shot to the front by zooming up in the oncoming traffic lane).
Because motos are so ubiquitous and driven so fearlessly, I suspect that automobile drivers are forced into driving much more defensively and self-consciously than in Chicago. Every lane change, turn, and so on, involves a quick look around to see if a teeny machine is screaming up at 60kph. That defensiveness is a boon to bicyclists, who share in the rewards. I’m nowhere near as arrogant as a moto driver, but I benefit from how scared car drivers are of them. Everything I have ever done that is against the law on a bicycle, including riding up onto a sidewalk to jump to the front of the line at a red light, I have also seen a moto do. As a result, one piece of advice I got about bike safety makes perfect sense: steer clear of vehicles that are clearly not Parisian, like charter buses or delivery trucks from the countryside. They tend to be driven by people who are not completely paranoid about nailing a moto, so they may forget about bicycles, too.
Furthermore, cars themselves seem not to be quite as rushed or angry. Only bicycles and motos rush green lights or explode off the line. If I am in line with a car at a light, almost always the car will let me jump out front and then sit behind me, waiting for a chance to pass after the intersection.
Rotaries, or roundabouts, abound in Paris, as they do in many European cities. These may look like a recipe for crashing and might scare the hell out of a rookie bicyclists, but I have found an alarming level of safety and comfort in the chaos. Because the rotaries are such a mess–often they look more like a kid’s Matchbox collection than like actual traffic–no one blasts through them, making communication of intended turns and the like a slow and gentle process. I even filmed myself going through the rotary at Alésia today, but the video was so boring that I did not bother uploading it. And, again, anything obnoxious that a bike might do, three motos are doing at the same time, drawing attention away from the bike.
I have never been yelled at or honked at by a car while on a bike, while that is a totally expected result in Chicago (in Chicago, it seems like some cars honk as a perceived courtesy warning to the cyclist). So it has been a total pleasure.
Finally, some people I know ride while listening to their iPods or whatever. They are, simply, crazy. I won’t lie and say I have never done that, but it’s not something I encourage doing. Furthermore, I ride with a helmet most of the time, but not all of the time, largely since I’ve generally gotten out of the habit of covering my head. One friend tells me that in the US, she would never ride a bicycle without a helmet, but somehow in Paris, it seems overkill. I now understand what she means and see where she’s coming from.
Hopefully this post is useful for people thinking of giving Paris a visit and taking advantage of pedal power while out here. It’s really one of the best things the city has going for it.
- Oddly, this applies only to electric bicycles, and not simply regular bicycles, which is a shame. [↩]
- I’ll mention here that the Vélib’ system is reproduced, with local variance, in other cities in France, as well as in Barcelona and Montréal. But actually, bike-sharing in general is used all around the world. When systems are well-run, as Vélib’ generally seems to be, to my tastes, I’m an unequivocal fan. I hope this posts helps explain why. [↩]
- For comparison’s sake, I have discovered that one is pretty much never more than 600m from a Métro station in Paris, but that’s a project for a different day. [↩]
- There was no such app when I started using Vélib’, which I could not believe. And, apparently, third-party apps have been pulled down following threats from JCDecaux. [↩]
- I was already a huge convert to hub transmissions from my Townie 700c that I left in Chicago. But even if I wasn’t, the Vélib’ hubs would have made me a total convert. [↩]




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