My Bianchi vintage bike

I bought a bike—Italian blue Bianchi vintage. At first I thought she is turquoise, then I Googled and she is not turquoise. Bianchi website said she is celeste, Bianchi green, or sky blue, but she looks like turquoise a lot, may in fact is really a mixture of celeste and  turquoise. I really like turquoise, which reminds me of classic cars in Cuba, as well as the Greek sea—clear and bright, full of sunshine. Bianchi green is also called Italian green, or sky blue; it appears to be first used by Eduardo Bianchi on his Bianchi bike. Legend had it that Bianchi founder Eduardo Bianchi designed a bike for a queen with the color of her eyes, which is this Bianchi green. It was also said that it is the color of Milan's sky at noon.

This is a road bike, which is to be rode on paved roads. She's got thin wheels, curved handles, and 11x2 shift, but she is not used for racing now because her frame is made of chrome steel, whereas that of popular racing bike now is made of carbon, which is of course much lighter than chrome steel, so my bike is slower than the racing bike. How much slower?  About five miles per hour. That is, if an amateur player rides 120 miles, it will take him 6 hours by the racing bike but 8 hours by my vintage bike. Why do I want to buy an outdated vintage bike? Like the ad says, Bianchi vintage series is for those who live in the present but love the past. Maybe I was this type of person. To remedy the weakness of brittle carbon material, double reinforcement is used in racing bike, which makes him look cumbersome, despite the fact that he is much lighter. Anyway, from the aesthetic view, I prefer slim vintage design; moreover, I have no interest to ride for competitions, but only want to plan trips around the world, so this is the ideal choice.

Although I have yet to carry out my global riding plan,  my Bianchi has gone around half the Earth. Steels and parts were transported through he Taiwan strait from mainland China to the Taiwan island. This bike is assembled here, together with the Japanese Shimano shift. Finished bikes are put into the containers, which are transported through the Taiwan Strait, South China Sea, Straits of Malacca, Indian Ocean, Arabian Sea, Red Sea, Suez Canal, Mediterranean, and arrive at the port of Naples, Italy. They are then loaded into a truck and shipped to the Bianchi factory in Treviglio near Milan. My Bianchi is then transported to Bianchi retailer shop in Modena.  At the moment I completed the transaction with the retailer by shaking his hands, I see all the people appeared by this amazing bike— the inventor of wheels, Karl Drais the inventor of bicycles, a former orphan Eduardo Bianchi, the green-eyed queen, the modern designer in front of the computer, the racer on the road, the steel worker next to the furnace, the lathe worker by forging machines, the rubber field worker, the assembly worker in the factory of bicycles, the maintenance worker in bike shops, and even the boy in the film "bicycle thieves" who can remember the serial number of his father's Bianchi bike.

The trip is not over yet. I took my Bianchi and boarded the plane, through Bologna and Frankfurt, flying over Siberia, Canada, and finally arrived at San Francisco, California. This is what happened to Bianchi NV0004334L in year zero. What happened next for her adventure? We do not know yet.