I have a new bike! Regular Blogelstein readers will recall my intense love for my old bike, Sebastina, and the tragic turn of events in the late summer of 2010 when she was snatched away. Since then, I purchased a new-old bike, Juliana, who was (sadly) terrible. Riding Juliana felt very dangerous. After I left my job at Conde Nast, I left her parked outside the building for six weeks in the hopes that someone would steal her, but no one did.
But now I have a secondhand but nearly-new bike, who is called Maria, and who is beautiful: curvy and Dutch-looking and most importantly, without brakes that scream every time they’re pressed. Riding around for the last few days I realised I’d forgotten the incredible delight that I get from cycling in London. That cycling is the most reasonable and enjoyable way to get from home to, say, a meeting in Waterloo and on to work in Shoreditch. On a functional bike.
And I also forgot how being a cyclist means that you get to talk to friendly strangers in a way totally unacceptable on other forms of London transport. As I sailed across Blackfriars Bridge (not during terrifying rush hour, mind you) I did a small hoot of joy, frightening a pedestrian. And at the light, a chap on a motorbike clad in an impressive outfit of intensely weatherproof clothing looked at me and said, ‘aren’t you cold?’ and I said, as if I knew what I was talking about, ‘you warm up when you get going!’ and he said, ‘but you don’t even have any gloves!’ and I said ‘I’m really hard!’
It was jolly. Ever so.
(If you are thinking about becoming a skirt-sporting cyclist like me, you might like this post, about getting started.)
