I honestly don’t try to theme my entries in this blog, but sometimes a theme creeps up on you, clanking slightly. Or in this case, overtaking me as I cycled through the park on the way to the station (look, I wasn’t in a hurry, all right?). This time it wasn’t a yoof bike but one of those ultra-portable folding commuter bikes with tiny wheels, being pedalled by a soberly dressed and only slightly ridiculous looking chap in a suit. Who hopped off his glorified roller-skate at Vauxhall, wheeled it into the underpass and chained it up – only pausing to take off the three foot long saddle post and saddle in case it was nicked. For the love of Mike, why? Why leave your bike in Vauxhall underpass if you can actually fold it up and take it on the train? Why ride a bike that makes you look like a sideshow attraction if you’re not going to fold it up? Is he trying to get it stolen? Is everybody in London doing everything for a bet?
I’m sorry, there’s just no rational explanation for this one. Especially given the fact that at the same time, on the same train, there was a guy lugging his full size, resolutely non-folding bike up the stairs and into the non-bike bit of the carriage. Which is not strictly verboten on that particular train, but all the same a considerably anti-social – bordering on the sociopathic – thing to do in the rush hour. Perhaps they could be persuaded to swap bikes?