the magic jug
Earlier this week Bath hosted the end of Stage 5 of the Tour of Britain (cycling). There was great celebration by our local council, and lots of publicity for the event.
Emma Leith’s yarn-bombed bike
Someone updated the wall art in Walcot Street to mark the moment
Many of us turned out on a lovely late summer afternoon to watch as the cyclists and their support teams arrived in Bath. It was all very exciting – and very very fast. In fact, all over and done with in about 15 minutes from the first riders coming past to the last.
Didn’t see Wiggo, but I saw the car…
The front runners rushed past…..
And lots, lots more
There were tents and displays to browse in the park, and the award ceremonies to watch there too.
A shame then that our local council (Bath and NE Somerset) has such a blinkered view…
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Having just read some horrible accounts of the kinds of thing that sometimes happen to women cyclists, I’d like to make it clear that I am a woman, I’m almost 60, and I live and cycle in Bath. And I’d like to be able to safely do it a lot more. Here’s how….
the magic jug
Here’s another version of my vision of how I’d like my home city to be.
We sat in the square with a coffee and watched as they chatted for ages, then they cycled off together in a leisurely way
Ferrara, northern Italy. Photos taken (by Malcolm) one afternoon in the summer, about 4 years ago. The photos below are from a series he took within 5 minutes from a single spot.
You’ve probably noticed that something is striking by its absence: motor vehicles of any kind. This changes everything.
Another historic and busy tourist destination, a World Heritage Centre, with a different understanding of how life could be better for all of us. Just ordinary people going about their ordinary everyday life. No lycra, no helmets. No need for either.
Old, young, hip, staid – everyone is cycling or walking. Slowly and sensibly. No competition between the pedestrians and the cyclists – after all…
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the magic jug
We were talking about this over supper the other night (a delicious meal all home grown and home cooked by our lovely neighbours). We were mulling over why it is that a very aggressive and negative image of cycling seems to prevail in our home city (and elsewhere). I was talking about cyclists and walkers, and our host expressed the view that part of the problem is the language we use.
We talk about cyclists. We talk about walkers. We talk about car drivers. As if they were different species, or at the very least different people.
But of course, they’re not. Most of us who cycle are also walkers, most are also car drivers, are also buggy pushers, are also runners (and may also at times be people with limited mobility). And at each of those times we may be doing something different, but we are the same person.
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Working, Living, Cycling, and campaigning for better cycle infrastructure in Bath, UK