There’s a serious blog entry to be done about my experiences of cycling in Northern Ireland, the bike infrastructure and the attitudes of drivers – and who knows, I may even get around to writing it before I leave. But meanwhile, can I just say that powering along the sea front on a Brompton into a freshening gale with the waves rolling in beside me and the fragrance of a basket full of fish and chips luring me on like the carrot dangled in front of a seaside donkey, is the best use of a Sunday evening that I know.
Just remember to lock your Brompton to something solid while waiting for your fish supper, or it could end up blown half way to the Isle of Man before the chips are done.
[...] The slight problem with my exhilarating ride last night? I failed to notice my shiny new phone falling out of my pocket. Or rather I did notice [...]