
Anyway, it's a sign of things to come. We're moving back to a part of the world where I can get out on a bike without feeling like I'm about to be hoovered under the wheels of Norbert Dentressangle or petulently swiped aside by some wide boy in his pimped up Corsa, and I can't wait.
Finally, a word on the collection: I'd like to thank the planners of the Midlands for putting at least three roads with the same name within a couple of miles of each other; I'd like to thank the seller who waited so patiently; I'd like to thank the lady who we interrupted in the course of her evening and asked for a bicycle she did not have but who was helpful anyway; I'd like to thank the gentleman who tried to help us despite the fact I appeared not to know the name or address of who I was looking for; I'd like to thank my partner Laura who lent me her mobile phone; I'd like to thank my mother who logged on to my eBay account to access the message containing the seller's phone number; I'd like to thank myself most of all, for not bringing my own mobile, for not knowing the seller's name, and most of all for getting his house number completely wrong in the first place and making us an hour late. I still say eighteen sounds confusingly like eleven.
That's not our kitchen, by the way, it's the eBay image. In the photo I took our house was such a mess I was too ashamed to post it.
I am impressed. Why I even have a 1960s Dawes headtube badge which you can attach to it when you had it painted. I'll stick a picture of it up in my Flickr account for you to see. 1980s bikes are my particular area of expertise as they're so simple. If you need any tips let me know.
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