Half an Hour

I have half an hour left until I get to switch my computer off, climb aboard my trusty bicycle, and pedal my way back towards town. I'm already wondering what ass-hattery will be thrown at me during the journey - this morning was the third in a row where cars have pulled out in front of me with no indication what-so-ever regarding what they were about to do. Apparently I'm invisible.


For the better part of 2007 and 2008 I commuted into London each day - leaving the house at 6:45am each morning, and returning at 7pm each evening. The door-to-door journey took in the region of two hours on a good day. Think about that. Four hours on trains every day.Life became a weirdly automatic experience …