Fifty-five to sixty years ago I spent quite a lot of time on my bicycle in the leafy suburb of London in which I was brought up. Not every child had a bike but I was one of the lucky ones. On one day it would be a cowboy’s horse and the next day a policeman’s motorbike. The day after that it would be something else and I suppose if Doctor Who had been around in those days it might have been a Tardis at least once a week.
A few years later an asssortmernt of “grown-up” bikes provided daily transport to the farms on which I worked for a time between school and college. Many years later in the 1970s a rather trendy folding bicycle ferried me to and from work in a Nottingham factory for a time (no, not “The Raleigh”) but I have not cycled since then.
Now, at nearly three score years and ten, and with most of a lifetime of motoring behind me, I am about to start cycling again, mainly for the healthy and (hopefully) zero-impact exercise that it provides. I intend to start in very small doses, taking it gently and increasing distances etc. gradually. Apparently cycling is on the increase, so all of a sudden I am in danger of becoming fashionable again.
Traffic conditions have changed since I last took to the road on two wheels but cycling remains a very safe activity. Tomorrow I will be shopping for a bicycle. More about that later.