Perhaps you didn’t know this, but a cycle tour without a map, is like new poatatos without the smell of mint. You possibly were also unaware of the fact that a new place sets you simmering as your hometown never could. And, dare I say, cycling at the tail end of an excursion, with a permanent view of a crocodile of bent backs in front could give anyone a hump.
A leisurely pace, Wool caps, Tweed Jackets, Knickers, toe clips, and properly secured luggage. You’d think this was footage from a Rapha training camp, or a Portland group ride.
People of all ages, ranks and station, rediscovering their common humanity in finding countryside, exercise, and companionship all in one.
So, grab yourself a hot cup of tea, and enjoy this Cyclist’s Special, brought to you by British Rail Film Board, circa 1955.
are sometimes smooth and silky, and other times tired and tight.
Friday, January 30, 2009
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5 comments:
Is it dreadful that I already had a cup of tea to hand?
Best line:
"Rugby? Who wants to go to Rugby?"
Best line:
"Rugby? Who wants to go to Rugby?"
I hate getting punc-cha's
Almost more fun to watch than riding my bike. Now where'd I put that cuppa?
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