The Internet is full of stories about horrible drivers who deliberately try to rear end cyclists. Or who pass with just millimetres to spare. Or who yell things out the window. Or even throwing litter out into the road and hitting their two wheeled contempories.
I was a bit worried. Was getting on a bicycle the equivalent of painting a big bulls eye on my back?
The reality turned out to be quite different.
Cars pass me with so much space I almost wonder if they’re being sarcastic. They literally go off into the other lane, into the oncoming traffic just so there’s no chance they’ll hit me. People smile. Other cyclists too - I thought they wouldn’t be interested in my little vintage three speed, and that they’d silently mock my choice of bicycle. Not so - I’ve had lots of admiring comments from the Lycra-clad lot, as I arrange Caprice next to their thousand pound bikes on the train.
A white van did beep at me once though, but to be fair, my boob had just popped out.
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