I love my old purple bike. When the boys were small it had a child seat on the back; I remember the feeling of a sleepy head thudding against my back as they fell asleep on the way home from nursery. The wicker basket has tardis-like properties; it can often be seen stuffed with a saxophone, a lunch-box and a swimming kit. Today it was just a bag and a forgotten tennis racquet, being delivered to school. There are some advantages to living in a place with no hills; cycling is much easier!
I wish I lived somewhere where riding a bike could easily be part of my everyday routine...as it is now, nothing is all that close to me ...or is that just an excuse...?