Just to balance the tales of woe, very real though they are, I thought I'd just post a vignette from last night.
Butterfly & I were on our way home from Putney. Just near the Ram Brewery, a silver Range Rover zooms past, making a lot of noise.
Of course, we sailed past it to the lights.
On down Garratt Lane we went, not at top speed (my legs were below par), but a decent pace. Approaching Earlsfield, the Range Rover wheezed alongside again.
'You're slow' said Butterfly, 'You took your time.'
I expected a frantic dash from the lights and a Range Rover trying to squeeze us off the road.
But no, we managed to get away smartly, and kept going up the road. On through the roundabouts, and past the cemetery, till we pulle dup outside home.
We dismounted, and were about to go in, when I had a thought, and wheeled the bike out to the pavement. We waited a bit, then saw the Range Rover come into view. We stood & waved. The passenger looked straight ahead. Maybe he hadn't noticed us. But the driver? The driver stuck his arm out the window and gave us a merry wave and a smile. He knew he was beat.
