Fat bottomed girls | Wednesday, November 09, 2005 |
With apologies to Mr Freddie Mercury.
Today was my first day of riding to work, and quite frankly I thought I was going to die. What's worse, is that this doesn't even consider the quality driving that Sydney has to offer. Back in the UK, post vans and Volvo drivers were the cyclists nemesis. Here, they'd be lucky to make the starting grid.
Anyway, years of living in London where kerb stones are commonly mistaken for hills had not adequately prepared me for the reality of cycling from our place in Surry Hills to St. Leonards. Goodness knows what it would have been like from Manly where they have crawl lanes for the Monaro's up the hill from the Spit Bridge. But what do you expect with a paltry 5.7 litre engine?
So, back to the ride. Firstly, that bridge is much, much bigger that it looks when you're on the bus or train.
Secondly, even getting onto it requires quite a bit of huff and puff. Finally, North Sydney is at the bottom of a dirty great, lung-busting hill.
Then add the morning heat and you've got quite a mix. I couldn't see it, but I could feel that my face was scarlet, and the sweat was dripping off my forehead. My heart made a failed bid for freedom. Fortunately, those unruly eyebrows that Gill is always trying to prune did a decent job of keeping it out of my eyes, but it was touch and go for a while.
My respiratory system was more or less back to normal by Crow's Nest and from there it's a reasonably gentle coast to the office and much needed shower. Even this wasn't without it's problems. I'd been to the store to to pick up shower stuff, razor and those other male essentials such as hair anti-frizz (see the 70's), but managed not to get anti-perspirant so had to go back after showering and dressing. There's also something quite disturbing about showering, and hearing the lift pinging away outside the door. Anyway, enough about my nakedness at work.
The ride home should have been easier, but somehow wasn't. There's a complex (or at least, new) one-way system to negotiate, and a shopping stop in camping-alley (or at least, a part of Kent St, that's home to heaps of "outdoor adventure" stores)to pickup a handful of cool-coloured Nalgene water bottles for work, gym and home use, that was foiled by sleepy australians shutting up shop at five-thirty. Five-thirty, in the CBD! They don't deserve to make money, but, as everyone else does the same, you're kind of hosed.
More traffic, etc back to the house, and a feeling of "well, not sure I can be bothered with that again".
I'm sure it will get better, and even with today's 35 degree heat, the view off bridge across Luna park and down to Glebe, Leichart and the west, probably, on balance, made the effort worth it.
Today was my first day of riding to work, and quite frankly I thought I was going to die. What's worse, is that this doesn't even consider the quality driving that Sydney has to offer. Back in the UK, post vans and Volvo drivers were the cyclists nemesis. Here, they'd be lucky to make the starting grid.
Anyway, years of living in London where kerb stones are commonly mistaken for hills had not adequately prepared me for the reality of cycling from our place in Surry Hills to St. Leonards. Goodness knows what it would have been like from Manly where they have crawl lanes for the Monaro's up the hill from the Spit Bridge. But what do you expect with a paltry 5.7 litre engine?
So, back to the ride. Firstly, that bridge is much, much bigger that it looks when you're on the bus or train.
Secondly, even getting onto it requires quite a bit of huff and puff. Finally, North Sydney is at the bottom of a dirty great, lung-busting hill.Then add the morning heat and you've got quite a mix. I couldn't see it, but I could feel that my face was scarlet, and the sweat was dripping off my forehead. My heart made a failed bid for freedom. Fortunately, those unruly eyebrows that Gill is always trying to prune did a decent job of keeping it out of my eyes, but it was touch and go for a while.
My respiratory system was more or less back to normal by Crow's Nest and from there it's a reasonably gentle coast to the office and much needed shower. Even this wasn't without it's problems. I'd been to the store to to pick up shower stuff, razor and those other male essentials such as hair anti-frizz (see the 70's), but managed not to get anti-perspirant so had to go back after showering and dressing. There's also something quite disturbing about showering, and hearing the lift pinging away outside the door. Anyway, enough about my nakedness at work.
The ride home should have been easier, but somehow wasn't. There's a complex (or at least, new) one-way system to negotiate, and a shopping stop in camping-alley (or at least, a part of Kent St, that's home to heaps of "outdoor adventure" stores)to pickup a handful of cool-coloured Nalgene water bottles for work, gym and home use, that was foiled by sleepy australians shutting up shop at five-thirty. Five-thirty, in the CBD! They don't deserve to make money, but, as everyone else does the same, you're kind of hosed.
More traffic, etc back to the house, and a feeling of "well, not sure I can be bothered with that again".
I'm sure it will get better, and even with today's 35 degree heat, the view off bridge across Luna park and down to Glebe, Leichart and the west, probably, on balance, made the effort worth it.
