and we moved in 2 weeks back. 3 mile commute to work, its GREAT. I take my little bicycle, stick my laptop in the wicker basket and head off down airport boulevard like an escapee from Kansas. Occassionaly I shriek 'I'll get you my pretty' at a passing pick-up, just for the hell of it.
I love the fact that some of the guys from work arrive on their uber racing bikes, all pointy helmets and neon lycra and click-in shoes, sweating profusely - and I draw up at the same time in a cardigan and ballet pumps with a genteel glow. Now to be fair, they are travelling a whole 2 miles more than me. And going 700 times faster. But still, I get to smirk at them with very European nonchalance - especially when they gasp and shake their heads in horror at my complete lack of cranial protection. (Americans!)
Although, admittedly it is to them I turn when I get a flat tyre or my saddle is at an odd angle or there's a squeek, or one of my 7(!) gears is odd. Then they miraculously produce gadgets, and wrenches and technical things from nowhere to fix it. Amazing what you can stash in lycra and click in shoes - apparently!
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