I hope nobody’s dead yet


Bank holiday mayhem:  the Sunday-only cyclists wobble along the road, overtaken by the serious riders in a big cycle event, traveling in skeins of twenty or thirty bikes, doing six mph uphill and 45 mph downhill.  Around them, tourists driving cars try to overtake the bikes, but find no gaps in the continuous procession to pull into when traffic comes the other way. Look out for my wing mirror, chaps… The tourists slow down randomly to admire the view, occasionally stopping their cars (usually without indicating) to take a photo, oblivious to the fact that they are on a clearway and that the cyclists are now forced to pull out to pass them.  Weaving through this clutter are gaggles of motorbikes, their riders grittily restraining their urge to do 90, and visibly cursing the rest of us.

It’s a good day for locals to stay home.


4 responses »

  1. …all this organised spontaneity…. Perhaps the Science fiction chaps were right after all, and we’re but pathetic clones offered two toys only on May Day; motor bikes or ankle bells+hankies.

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