I’ve carried heavier sandwiches. If Emma, my trusty steed, is a tough northern lass, Niall’s road bike was a London girl. Not least because ordinarily he had a cast iron rule. Never go out in the wet. Bit problematic I thought in Queensland. And necessitating a previously unheard of exception today. Joining us on the south western outskirts of Brisbane, the State’s capital, for the ride up to his home to the north of the city.
To compound matters, our respective bikes weren’t exactly well matched for speed. A sort of north-south divide. The only thing that gets Emma and I to sprint is a particularly energetic bout of travellers diarrhoea. And Brisbane certainly isn’t the easiest of cities to traverse. Even for an experienced London cycle commuter.
But Niall has endless patience. Unless you’re one of those drivers to behave plain dangerously. Before you cut someone up make sure you know who they are. Police officers are never really off-duty. Red traffic lights are a great leveller.
[…] I am on the road. I have done it once in the past three years (and you can read a bit about it here) but the thought of getting soaked before I am warmed up and having to put up with slippery roads […]