How do I love my Brompton? Let me count the ways … like yesterday when I woke to the sound of pouring rain and an apocalyptic weather forecast and knew I had to be at Notso Bigtown – a good 13 miles away – *and* looking reasonably presentable at 10 am. The other half was willing to drive me there but he actually had to be somewhere in completely the opposite direction and so I was determined to find another way. I remembered that there actually was a bus that passes the village road end on Big A Road and having googled the timetable (and got one that was undated but subsequently proved to be out of date – thanks Stagecoach! Amazingly, Bigtownshire Council had the actual up to date timetable on its site) realised that there was a bus that would get me there with ten minutes to spare. All I had to do was pedal the couple of miles or so down to the bus stop, fold up my nifty wee bike, and await the bus. And at the other end I could unfold it and pedal off to my meeting where I was greeted like some conquering hero until I confessed that I hadn’t actually ridden there all the way. Not only that, but with the bike folding down to such a neat package, I could easily hitch a lift back with someone going roughly my way and pedal the last mile home again.
Even better was the fact that the rain held off as I cycled the last mile and then, once I was safely home and drinking my coffee, the heavens just opened and stayed open for the next two hours. I would definitely have been out in that had I attempted to cycle all the way. Occasionally, just occasionally, things work out in my favour that way.