F*ing cycle path!

I made up my mind last night to cycle in today, and, even though it was pissing down with rain, that’s what I did.

I bought a extremely loud luminous yellow jacket last week for wearing in the rain which makes me look like a bit of a twat, but those who do look at me need sunglasses!

Except, that is, for the fucking idiot driving a Mercedes towards the roundabout I was on. He was clearly not going to stop so I had to abuse him and ask him if he couldn’t fucking see me, dressed, as I was, like a poisonous banana.

En route to the ferry (I cheat nowadays and get the Star ferry from Canary Wharf to the Hilton on the other side of the Thames. It’s like living in Hong Kong again!) I use a cycle path by the marina.

This morning, I encountered four lads walking in it so I slow down, they move aside. But as I pass, one of the charmers shouts out: "Get on the fucking road."

I felt compelled to reply: "Get off the fucking cycle path, you c***."

Honestly, it’s a jungle out there for the humble cyclist.

At the pier, I get on the wrong boat but realise in time, get off and jump on the 'Star Ferry'.

And now, I am freezing my tits off at the factory, where the air conditioning is set to about 10 degrees.

Moan, moan, moan. The weekend can’t come quick enough this week!