It amazes me how clockwork cycling to work can be. Both yesterday and today I cycled off my driveway, turn left onto the road, and almost immediately turned right at a crossroads. That’s no big deal; my work is in the same place so I take the same route. However, both days the same man – cycling in the opposite direction – has turned (his) right at the same crossroads at the exact same time. We must each spend under ten seconds at that junction and that’s the only place our paths cross. And I’ve seen him two days in a row.
About fifteen minutes into my ride, I cycle pass a man pushing his bike out his front door to start his ride to work. I pass the same people (or indeed, they pass me) at the same points, see the same commuters walking to the same tube stations, Of course this doesn’t happen every day, but it happens often enough to make you realise that, even with cycling liberating you from the shackles of a timetable, your life still runs like clockwork.
I am most incredulous about this because every day feels different to me. Some days I wash my hair; some days I don’t. Sometimes I have washing to hang out in the garden, some days I don’t. Some days I CAN’T FIND MY KEYS, WHERE ARE MY KEYS? MY GOD, I AM SO LATE, WHERE ARE THEY?? Even then, I seem to ultimately end up on the same schedule.
Cycling does have the major advantage that if you run two minutes late, you arrive two minutes late. You’re not afforded the same luxury if you miss the train. Anyway, must dash…..if I could just FIND MY BLOODY KEYS!!