Still, should we continue prioritizing the present comfort of our cars, electric or otherwise, over simpler, healthier alternatives like biking, which also safeguard our future physical and mental health and the planet’s well-being?
This shift not only challenges the notion that EVs are the ultimate solution for urban sustainability but also prompts us to rethink our reliance on technology. As bicycles surpass cars in usage, it’s time to evaluate whether simpler solutions might better serve our cities and us.
Another good stuff, one of the biggest urban cycling trends in 2024 is children-focused initiatives: the bike bus and school streets.
“The future of cities belongs to its children, and this new movement just might prove to be a vital tipping point where they are finally considered and involved in the planning process.”
Recently, I discovered how fascinating topographic maps are, and, well, I got a little obsessed. Those elevation lines? They look like art. Beautiful, intricate, mesmerizing.
So, on one of those weekends when stepping outside felt like a bad idea because of wildfire smoke making the air unbreathable, COVID still lurking, and a general 2020 apocalypse vibe, I got inspired. I decided to create a projection of what Florianópolis would look like if the sea level rose by 15 meters. Spoiler: it’s a vibe, but not the good kind.
With some help from the crew (Lê, Manu, Jordane, and Augusto), I gave the newly-formed islands and regions their own names. It was oddly fun, considering the grim premise.
I used a site called FloodMap to make the projection. It’s pretty basic and doesn’t account for things like currents, erosion, wind, or the inevitable chaos we humans will add to the mix. Even so, it was fascinating to see the island split in two. Maybe, just maybe, that’s the perfect excuse to finally shed the “Floriano” legacy. (Locals, you get it.)
This little exercise got me thinking: in 500 years, the world will look wildly different. Technologies for housing and transportation could make life surprisingly livable, even in a scenario like this. Think vertical farms, floating neighborhoods, maybe even underwater condos. Humans are pretty good at adapting when we’re not busy messing things up.
Place ‘Dangerous Section’ signs near the Sapiens Park curve. I’ve seen many accidents, and the city is not doing anything. If someone else has an accident there, the blame will also be mine.
I never fit the “mountain man” stereotype, yet sprawling malls and mega‑cities don’t light me up either. Maybe that is proof none of us truly belong on this planet. We remodel the place to feel at home, then complain that home still feels off.
That itch pushes us back toward the wild. We crave a splash of green to rinse out the concrete gray that keeps leaking into our eyes. Fresh air, some simple silence, maybe a quick health reboot. Sounds dreamy, right? So why not hop off the chair and hit a legit nature trail?
Me – The Trail TailMy view
Great idea, in theory. Trouble is, most folks (me included) stall out at step one. Lack of info, zero experience, or the haunting message from last time: “Dude, hurry up.” I am always dead last, squatting in the mud to photograph a random weed while everyone else is already sipping water at the finish.
Truth is, I love the journey, not the destination. I don’t really cheer, ‘End of the trail, woohoo.’ The finish line is basically the starting gun for the ride back to regular life. The trip, though, belongs to each of us, brand new every sunrise.
Anyway, before confirming my rookie status, I peeked at an actual dictionary.
trail noun. a mark or a series of signs or objects left behind by the passage of someone or something.
People are world champs at leaving traces, especially where we work, fight, or build homes. Since I can’t claim pro status on wilderness routes, why not test drive an urban trail instead? Zoom in on the quiet details, the ones tourists spot while locals sprint past.
An urban trail, then.
Sure, the air is not exactly pine‑fresh, and the concrete is still concrete. Yet wandering unfamiliar city blocks can feel oddly soothing. Weekends beg for tiny experiments. Swap the default coffee run for an urban loop. Traffic becomes background noise, obstacles morph into spice. It is all mindset. You are not commuting. You are on an adventure. Bonus: getting lost downtown sometimes reveals more trees than expected.
Unexpected ‘Beach Party’ in a city far from the ocean – Belo Horizonte, BrazilHidden path somewhere in South America
That old line rings true. If you can’t beat it, merge with it. Urban growth gets framed as planetary doom, a concrete apocalypse. New towers sprout, streets flood, chaos ensues. Maybe if we study the beast the way we study forests, we can push for smarter decisions.
I am not inventing anything here, just nudging myself (and whoever is game) to explore the place we already live, or at least tilt our perspective. Perfect for folks allergic to poison ivy, traumatized by spiders, or bored with standard hikes. Bring a camera. The urban jungle is full of cats and rats on the same team.
Santiago – ChileBuenos Aires – Argentina
If you still prefer dirt under your boots, no hard feelings. Check the mountain of tips my friends at Trilhas & Aventuras share. Infinite routes for every taste.
I will stick around and occasionally draft urban itineraries. Pedestrian loops designed to uncover the hidden nature inside this stone forest, the angles we miss while rushing to meetings.
Catch me on some random corner. I will probably still be last in line. 😄
