“I am on my way to the funeral of a friend.”
“Oh, I am so sorry for slowing you down.”
“No problem. The bike is fast.”
Photographer’s notes: My dad died a decade or so ago. He was an avid cyclist. If he was not hampered by transporting family members in a car, he would rather transport himself on a bike. Here, there, anywhere.
I remember his funeral – one person came on a bike. It was not even me, though I wish it were. I came in the family car. But one person pitched up on two wheels and I thought, “Dad would smile. He would like that.”
I hope his friend would have the same opinion to this appearance.
In one of those odd coincidences, I went to a funeral a few days ago on my bike. It was for a woman I liked and admired who ran my local café, Au Laboureur. It was Therese, the charismatic matriarch of the establishment.
On a second note, I am constantly aware of how people are willing to stop and give me a few minutes for this blog. It usually takes less than five minutes and it is all done. But people give their time so quickly and easily.
I have always thought the cycling community is one of the friendliest and most cooperative. Happy to see me proven right.