Home, James

And don’t spare the moderately sized engine.

I was overtaken on my way to the station this morning – no surprises there, I’m not the fastest of cyclists. I then overtook the car – not that unusual either, cars aren’t very good at realising that bikes go faster than them over speedbumps, at least if they wish to keep their exhaust pipes. What struck me, as I cycled past, was that the passenger was sitting in the back reading the paper, whereas the driver was sitting up in solitary splendour and a peaked cap in the front. Now who, I asked myself, still gets chauffeured to work in this day and age? And, more to the point, who gets chauffeured to work in a battered green Volkswagen Passat?

Oh, the trains? Eight cars, coming and going. I’ve decided just to get used to it.