Now, don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of pictures that are perfectly normal and fine to take. A quiet road through Tuscany, a coastal climb in Mallorca, a high summit effort in the French Alps. Sure, not too original, but not bothering anyone as well. But then there are those photos that seem to aim to irritate every single one who shares the same tourist attraction with you. These are the holiday cycling photos, so frustrating, so absurd, they should be outlawed under international law.
So, in the interest of public safety (and my own blood pressure), here are five vacation cycling photos that should be banned immediately.
Lifting your bike in front of a tourist attraction
What better way to commemorate your visit to France, Rome, London or literally anywhere else than by hoisting your bike in the air and making sure two-thirds of the landmark is hidden behind your dirty tyres? Truly inspiring. Nothing screams “city of love” quite like reducing the Eiffel Tower to a couple of bent beams poking out from behind your rear wheel.
Lifting your bike serves absolutely no purpose here (except maybe irritating everyone else around you).
Holding your bike aloft is supposed to celebrate an achievement – conquering a brutal climb, breaking a personal record, maybe even winning a Grand Tour. Flying your bike halfway across the world (or worse, renting one with squeaky brakes) is not an achievement. It’s a financial decision. So come down a notch. Meanwhile, while you wobble around like a drunk weightlifter on cobblestones, the other tourists aren’t charmed. It seems they don’t appreciate the new fashion statement you so generously bestowed on them – wearing your tyre marks across their clothes. Ungrateful peasants.
Now, here’s a radical idea: What if you’re not a self-obsessed jackass? What if you actually decide to commemorate your visit to that beautiful city by, let’s say, placing the landmark front and centre? In full view. Now, you can even join this architectural, historical, and cultural marvel and actually show you’ve been there yourself. And if you want to show you’re with a bike, just casually lean on it. That single image tells a whole story: I was here, I had my bike, and I didn’t ruin anyone’s day.
The landmark lean
And while we’re on the subject of being self-obsessed and trying to overshadow the very thing you actually came to see, let’s talk about the landmark lean. Yes, nothing elevates world-famous architecture quite like propping your filthy bike against it, as if the Colosseum has been waiting two millennia just to serve as your personal bike rack.
Shockingly, you’re not the first to think of such a “brilliant” way to commemorate your visit to a particular landmark. Millions have done it. And unless you’ve managed to position it perfectly so the bike looks like it actually crashed into the tower of Pisa, you might as well just download a picture from Google. There are millions of them, and all are much better than yours. OK, not all, maybe around 75%.
Also, let’s not forget that your pride and joy just can’t win when competing with a priceless heritage. It devalues your bike and makes it look ordinary. Your bike should radiate glory, and it does when you’re riding it. Not when it’s leaning against a wall. If you want to take a picture of your bike with a landmark, that’s fine. But be with it. Compliment the landmark with your presence. Add some artistry. Most importantly, join your bike. You know the old saying from Full Metal Jacket: “Without me, my bike is useless. Without my bike, I’m useless.” Or was it something other than a bike? Don’t really care enough to remember.
The rental bike lineup
You rented a bike, you didn’t win a Grand Tour. So maybe don’t block the entire street like you’re parading down the Champs-Élysées. The only thing you’re winning is several dozen curse words per second from every pedestrian, driver, and cyclist forced to share space with you. And for what? A photo of five identical, questionably maintained bikes that are not even yours. What exactly are you celebrating? Friendship? Yeah, no one’s getting it.
All you’ve really done is prove to the world that you and your mates are capable of both clogging traffic and producing the most forgettable holiday photo in existence. Congratulations, you’re a nuisance and a cliché. And that’s all this photo is showing.
If you desperately need the shot, fine – but do the rest of us a favour and take it somewhere that isn’t vital urban infrastructure. A quiet corner, a back alley, your hotel car park. That way, you still get your souvenir, and the rest of us get to keep our will to live.
Bike in the sea
That’s… I… What… Are you insane? Putting your bike in the sea isn’t a photo, it’s a cry for help. Salt water doesn’t just “wash over” components. It destroys them. Drivetrain, lube, bearings, cables… gone. Congratulations, you’ve just turned a precision machine into a very expensive pile of rust. Shimano engineers probably wake up in cold sweats because of people like you.
And for what? A shot of your bike half-buried in sand while waves crash over it? Newsflash: you’re not Poseidon, and your bike isn’t a prop for a surf commercial. It’s an act of mechanical cruelty, like leaving your goldfish in the oven “for a cool photo”. Here’s a thought: if you want to remember the beach, take a photo of… the beach. You can even stand next to your bike on solid ground, smile, and live to ride another day. That way, the only thing corroded is your sense of humour.
The airport unboxing video
There’s nothing wrong with this photo. It’s just the cycling equivalent of watching paint dry or staring at an office printer doing its job. Technically, it’s happening right in front of you, but nobody actually wants to look at it.
Unboxing and assembling your bike at the airport isn’t an event worth documenting. It’s not a victory, it’s not an adventure, it’s not even mildly entertaining. It’s you crouched on the floor next to an oversized cardboard coffin, looking like you’ve lost a very specific game of Jenga. And yet somehow, you think the world is waiting for a photo carousel of your pedals, your tools, and your half-built bike surrounded by annoyed passengers dragging suitcases.
Sure, you’re excited to be reunited with your bike after the flight. But please understand: for everyone else, it’s the least inspiring holiday content imaginable. Nobody’s double-tapping this. At best, they’re scrolling past it. At worst, they’re wondering if they should call airport security.
Just take the damn photo like a normal person
Cycling holidays are amazing. You get to explore new places, ride roads you’ve only seen on TV, and stuff your face with local pastries under the excuse of “fuelling”. But for the love of your deity of choice, stop ruining it with these abominations of photography. Nobody needs to see your bike blocking world landmarks, drowning in saltwater or half-assembled at Gate 27. Nobody asked for your rental-bike Tour de France reenactment, and nobody’s impressed by your victory pose in front of the Eiffel Tower.
If you really want a cycling holiday photo that works, it’s not complicated: landmark in full view, you and your bike together. That way, you’ll still have a memory, and the rest of us won’t be left with tyre marks, blocked roads or have to endure countless pointless photos only you think are precious memories.
Because at the end of the day, you’re not conquering Europe. You’re just a cyclist on holiday. Act like it.
