Special Car-Free Day

No Comments
With The Father

Sunday is a special car-free day. At least it was for my father.

My father always eager to exercise on the day of the weekend. Also on other days actually. Yet, on Sunday it was always special day.

On Sunday, my father going to exercise by cycling.

At half past six in the morning, after brewing his favorite coffee, my father would have rushed to prepare all the equipment. The Onthel, appropriate clothes, hats, and sunglasses.

Passing my room, which I often embarrassed oversleep, my father would always wake me

"Son, you want to come cycling along ?"

If it works, I would immediately get up. If not, he will repeat his call up to 3 times. If I do not wake up, then you will waltz away with disappointment...

Yes, in that car-free day, my father had the opportunity to spend time with me as his child. Once a week, my father wish only  a few hours on that day that his son had a time for him. Cycling along, taking dangerous path full of cars and motorcycles before heading to car-free day area, which is usually too crowded with people who are more snacking than exercising. Jajan.

Its a routine that is often canceled due to my schedule and laziness.

... ... ...

We cycled slowly, stopping occasionally to rest, buy drinks and others on the sidewalk vendors. We will also have time to sit on benches that lies ahead some office building, ask each other news and other family members, complaining about the job, shool, friends, to discuss political issues and even the outcome of the football game.

Of course, its my father whom listening more. He has wait a whole week for this intensive meeting.

Coming home from the car-free day, we will have breakfast together. My father prefer the menu his favorite nasi uduk. On the sidewalk we eat together. I I intend to always pay. Yet, sometimes the father refused and spend money faster to pay for the food.

When its rain, we take shelter in any place nearby. If lucky, we take shelter in one of the stalls and drinking coffee together. My father like black coffee, I like coffee with milk. We sipped them accompanied with warm fried snack. Gorengan

For gorengan, I love tempe, while my father prefer cassava. Singkong.

When the rain has stopped, we continued cycling. Penetrate the road that are prone and impassable traffic. I often worried about this. imagine my father cycling alone, among the scorching heat and the milling cars.


Arriving home, he will immediately checking bike. Ensuring there is nothing broken. While I immediately just parked mine. The bike was only going to be used again next week.

And then, after shower, we ate together. The best dishes made by my mother.

Next PostPosting Lebih Baru Previous PostPosting Lama Beranda