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Mara wanted to be in Paris before the kitchen got loud . Her sister was cooking for the family , and Mara had promised to help with the salad , not to send a message from an airport queue . The flight from Amsterdam was the habit . It was short , and for years that shortness had been her excuse . That morning she left the flight alone . She took her bicycle , because in Amsterdam an ordinary trip is often a bicycle trip . Lanes run beside the streets , and people ride to work , to school , and to the station with a bag on the back . Copenhagen came to mind , another city where a bicycle is a normal way to cross town . She was not studying either city . She only needed the station , and she did not want a taxi . The fast train was the other half of the choice . In Europe , rail already links many major cities closely enough that a short flight is not the only way to make a day work . Mara had read that China runs a vast high - speed network between distant cities . She did not need that scale . She needed a seat , a window , and enough time to arrive before the tomatoes were done . Fields slid past the glass . She thought about the other pictures people reach for when they talk about the future of transport . Some companies are trying to build electric aircraft for short routes , and that work is not finished . Some ports let a ship plug in at the dock so it does not have to keep its generators running while it waits . Those were other stories . Hers was a bicycle , then a train , then a walk at the other end . She stepped onto the platform while the evening was still bright . Her sister was there with an empty shopping bag and no speech prepared . Mara took the bag . The flight stayed on the board for someone else . The evening began in a kitchen , which was the only arrival she had wanted .
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