I took the Raleigh shopping today. She cycles like a dream. As long as your dream is of teeny tiny wheels and fat, low pressure tyres. The riding position is difficult to describe. It is a little similar to sitting on a bar stool, holding onto a glass on the bar, but moving along on scooter wheels. I did enjoy pootling along the promenade of Gloucester Road, past the cafes and bars. And yet we did get quite a few looks, although the bicycle many more than myself. I popped into Fred Baker’s, which was the unfortunate bike shop that is next to the Tesco store that hit all of the headlines in May this year. Old Fred himself came out and uncharacteristically was quite disparaging about my lovely machine, but I think he was just winding me up. He did give me some tips about attempting to take this bike up the hill to Clifton, but frankly it is the return journey that worries me the most. One of my earliest grown-up emotions was dislike for caliper brakes. I will take a nice photo of my bike tomorrow if the sun emerges.
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I’m going to the Hillgrove tonight to play some records. I’m a rubbish dj so I hope it goes well. It’s a horrible cliché but the word eclectic ought to be sewn onto my dj hat. It’s the only way that I can play records. (Those are singles in the photo. The 28mm lens makes them appear a bit larger than they actually are.)
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