I lived in Europe for a little while, like Donoghue. I was 19, on a study-abroad semester in Padua, Italy. I didn’t have access to a car, but I did have a bicicletta. All of us dorky American exchange students biked or walked everywhere, even out to the clubs at night. We hung out in the piazzas downtown for hours, shopped at the farmer’s markets and small independent stores, and visited many a pastry shop. I never noticed the absence of a car there, and I never thought of seeking out a mall. The driving lifestyle just didn’t seem to fit with my Italian experience because it had never been a part of it. I loved my bike in Italy, much as I love my car in America. After my week of living local in Portland, I find myself itching again to use my car when I’m pressed for time, or too lazy to wander around on foot. Driving is a solitary life, but it is usually a rapidly productive one. I do miss the interaction and slower pace of my local week, but it’s Friday and I’ll probably drive to a party this evening because I’ll get out of work a half hour before it ends. I’ll pick a friend up for breakfast tomorrow because she doesn’t own a car. And if it’s cold tomorrow evening, I might drive to a chain movie theater. The nature of my work week and years of habit make driving and running errands for convenience fundamental to what I expect of life in Portland. Localists here are fighting to convert old-timers like me every day.
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Sara Donnelly: sdonnelly@phx.com
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