So it turns out that, even if you leave your Brompton at home, when you’re staying with London’s premier cycle campaigner* that doesn’t let you off the hook of going and inspecting the first actual spade-in-the-ground development of her local Mini Holland. Which is how I found myself on a borrowed bike heading for a mini Mini Holland infrastructure safari along Green Lanes, possibly the least accurately named road in London, following the ghostly turn of her tandem’s rear pedals,** remembering how foul London’s air tastes and how fond London drivers are of just nuuuuudging out of a junction to make a turn with little consideration for anyone who might technically have right of way.
We passed a sad little bundle of flowers on a lamppost and the garage where my sister witnessed a pedestrian being stretchered away (and where on our return trip I almost got stretchered away myself after a driver decided that her need to turn right onto the road completely overrode, almost literally, my actual right of way on the particular bit of road she wanted to turn onto).
Defending this work against a nasty backlash has been something my sister has put her heart and soul into in recent years, and so it was nice to go and witness the things she has been fighting for start to take shape on the ground. From a British (if not a Dutch) perspective, the first few bits are promising, if not perfect – it’s nice to finally see a parking-protected bike lane, albeit one that’s just a shade too narrow for easy sociable cycling. Orcas and wands will hopefully reinforce the idea that the parking isn’t over the top of the bike lane, as is more or less standard in this country, but as a shield between cyclists and the traffic.
It took a little puzzling to work out what this was – it’s enabling cyclist to more comfortably turn right out of this side road. Perhaps a spot of sign-make-it-better might be in order here.
There are other quibbles I can make, like the bus stop boarders that double as mini roller coasters (although they are quite fun, in their way). But even so, the signs are that Green Lanes will be transformed into something that is still neither green, nor a lane, but where my nieces will at least be able to cycle safely (if not comfortably side by side).
And – given how cycling infrastructure like this makes roads safer for everyone, not just cyclists – we can hope that one day the only flowers we find on the streets are old Christmas wreaths left puckishly decorating a plastic wand, rather than memorialising yet another needless death on the road.
Oh and – entirely off topic, but top marks to the anonymous Londoner who had decorated a gleaming black Porsche all over with post-it notes casting aspersions on the owner’s parentage, personality and general road manners – whether because of something they did or simply because they own a Porsche I don’t know, but it did make me giggle the rest of the way home.
* who happens be my little sister. I tell you, I taught her everything she knows
** there was no way on God’s green earth I was actually going to get on the back of it; I might acknowledge her success as a campaigner but she is still my little sister and there are limits