Cycled into the office today, so am now starting to ache in places I'd forgotten I had places. I'd forgotten how pleasant it is to be stuck in a shared cycle land behind an 2 mile queue of Ken's half empty 18m long buses, hemmed in to the right by a queue of stationary traffic. The only solution is to seize one's destiny and charge at high speed into the gap between the buses and the traffic, which is a bit like the end of Star Wars when the good guys are flying at high speed down that long corridor thingy on the surface of the death star.
Also very pleased to see a large number of comedy seasonal cyclists wearing an iPod instead of a helmet, a long floaty skirt instead of eye-wateringly tight lycra and flip-flops instead of those funny shoes with wierd bottoms that proper cyclists seem to wear.
A few special mentions before I fire up Excel and get some serious data analysis done:
- to the balding driver of silver sporty Merc K3 MRF - thanks for not giving way to the right on that roundabout - you're right, though - if you accelerate really really fast whilst cutting up a bike, it doesn't count
- to the TNT driver at Wandsworth Common who jumped a light in order to make an iffy left turn, causing three cars to brake and me to run for cover sideways
- to the white van man who ran me into the back of a stationary bus whilst looking the other way and laughing at something the chap on the other end of the phone was saying
- and finally to the slow guy who kept overtaking me at red lights then giving me a view of his visible hairy crack whilst he puffed along - I would have gone to Hampstead Heath if I wanted to work myself into a sweat whilst staring at a hairy man's back
Still, near-death experiences in low single-figures counts as a successful day on London's roads.
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