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Hard though it is to believe, it is New Year’s Eve again. Another year has spun past at alarming pace, and now we find ourselves on the threshold of 2013. Where is the millennium going? I was talking to my kids the other day and recalling some memories of Christmasses when I was a...
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“Twas another dark and stormy morning, with the raw winds gusting along the seafront and the marsh road swamped with rainwater – not a time to be out and about on a bicycle, although I went out anyway, at least for a shortish ride. It is getting rather tiresome, this relentless line of squalls...
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It was the classic dark and stormy night, straight from the pen of Edward Bulwer-Lytton, with moaning winds, thunderclaps and lightning casting outré shadows on the walls. At one point, somewhere past midnight, I was treated to that old Victorian Gothic stand-by of the violent gust blowing open the paired windows in my room;...
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I am always a little wistful on Boxing Day, with all the presents unwrapped and a sense of anti-climax settling around the tree. Although I am well into my Fifties now, I still look forward to Christmas the jaunty expectancy of a child opening an advent calendar and counting down the days. I love...
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A quick post to wish all of my readers a very Merry Christmas – or Season’s Greetings, if you happen not to celebrate Christmas – and a hope that your holiday is filled with happiness and much good cooking! As for me I shall be back in the saddle tomorrow, but for now I...
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It was late in the afternoon, on a quiet, lonely woodsy stretch of road, with the Semois gurgling somewhere down amongst the trees, that I came at last to the Belgian border. I’d been looking forward to crossing it all day – for the past couple of days, really. This would be the first...
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There is something jaunty about tooling along an old-style seaside promenade on creamy white tyres that to my mind recalls an era of gaudy hotel labels and co-respondent shoes, spats and panama hats, a time when life was ‘swell’ and the going was good. Being the travel nostalgic that I am it was just...
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I had heard of the Ardennes - it was one of those quaint European place names with which I was vaguely familiar but could never quite place correctly on a map - but on my fifth day on the road I found them, a great brooding mountainous forest on the borders of France and...
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At long last it happened – my dream tourer, which hitherto I had ridden only in the fairest of weathers, has been well and truly rained upon, soaked in fact, in a cold, hard December rain. The belated christening took place last Sunday and, believe me, it was wholly unintentional. When I poked my...
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A brush with a pack of young bicycle thieves in a downbeat neighborhood in Cambrai nearly scupper my hopes of riding to Istanbul, but dumb luck, the alert eyes of others, and a shopkeeper's wife sallying to the rescue with a mop handle save the day in this fifth part of the tale of...
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Welcome to My-Bicycle-and-I
By way of introduction I am a magazine writer and sometime photographer who loves bicycles and cycling—not to race or get fit or even commute, but for the simple pleasure of being abroad in the world on two skinny wheels.
Since I enjoy writing nearly as much as I enjoy riding, I decided to put together this eclectic collection of stories, essays, reviews and columns.
I hope you'll find some things you like. Read a bit more here.
