Possibly working on the principle of “of you can’t beat them, join them,” I have gone and bought (well, put a deposit down on, anyway), a bicycle.
But not just any bicycle, oh no. Having tried, and utterly failed, to imagine myself perched atop some hulking great mountain bike or stripped-down racer, I bought one of these. A Pashley Princess Sovereign, in green, which I shall swish about on, in stately fashion. Or fall off a lot, possibly. Isn’t she lovely?
I used to love cycling, but when I moved to London, I was (an still am), horrified by the behaviour of the majority a certain subset* of London cyclists. Running red lights, cycling on the pavement, going the one way down one way streets and generally behaving like complete lunatics.
I will not be one of those cyclists, and I would like to thank three people in particular, namely Anna, Clare and Patrick, for reminding me that it is possible to cycle in London without turning into a homicidal maniac.
Thanks to the sterling efforts of Timbo at Evans Cycles, my new bike will be arriving in the Canary Wharf branch within the week. I am spending the intervening days sorting out refresher lessons (I really hope that the phrase “it’s like riding a bike, you never forget,” is true), reading the Highway Code, and working out cycling routes that will not take me anywhere near the Mile End Road, as well as deciding on a name for her so she can have her own Twitter account. Obviously.
If anyone’s got any hints, tips, helpful links and so on, please leave them in the comments. The purchase of a helmet, a heavy-duty lock and more lights than the average civic Christmas display can be taken as read.
*On consideration, damning the majority of London cyclists as psychotic nutcases seems a little unfair. My apologies.