The English are a miserable lot, even those of us from Gods own County of Yorkshire (though in particular South Yorkshire) seem incapable of enjoying ourselves, especially when up with the larks breathing fresh clear air on a Sunday morning whilst exercising or walking the dog.
Admittedly the smell of farmyard and the taste of carbon monoxide from passing cars isn't necessarily great, but for goodness sake you're not at work! Let those muscles do some good and smile and respond to the cheery "Mornings" of the day glow idiot on the bike.
OK some of you I have scared half to death as I have crept up behind you, before saying morning as I pass like a blur on my stealth cycle, but heh! if you can see my lips moving and a cheery gesticulation or nod of the head, please respond.
I don't care how, I just need to be sure that my velocipede and I in my day glow gear are visible and that the stealth cloaking really is a part of an overworked imagination. It will also stop me calling an ambulance or a vicar to collect all you lost souls out there, for all I know you may still be wandering about in the dark as I write.
P.S. It isn't just those on foot that have this affliction the worst by far have to be my fellow cyclists and particularly riders of road bikes and especially those on club rides spread three quarters of the way across the road, in their own little worlds.
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