My legs ache. Not used to leg ache. It comes from gripping maybe a bit too hard as a result of my first commute on the motorbike. My husband had just serviced it and made it ‘faster’. I had to ensure I had a good grip of the handlebars to ensure I actually went with the bike under acceleration. I had to confess at being a little smug as I passed a long line of traffic and what felt like 40 cars. I got to the lights in 30 seconds, in a car it would have taken 30 minutes. Biking is what Americans would say a ‘no brainer’.
When it came to parking, after I had reversed my bike into the spot, a chap, who looked like one of the Viet cong (except he was dressed up in a wardens outfit) gave me a long hard stare. I felt compelled to ask him if it was OK for me to park there. He gave me a cold hard stare, like I was asking him if I could spit on his boots (or something equally disgraceful). Needless to say if he had engaged me in a game of Russian roulette I would have feared the consequences if I had said no (although at least my helmet would have offered some protection). Despite this he said….reluctantly….it would be fine.
After a day of meeting lots of people, all whose names I have completely forgotten…apart from a lady called Marie. She stuck in my mind because she talked about her ongoing struggle with potty training (her youngest girl).
When it came to the ride home I felt like pottering back like I was on a moped but my bike had other ideas, every twist of the throttle was a rocket launch.
John Wayne once said ‘courage is feeling scared but saddling up anyway’. Enough said.
This blog is for UNICEF.
Thanks for reading.