I woke to a curtain in drizzle. Misty, light rain moving in thick bands to go about its business; quietly dousing allcomers. On the commute, I was taken by the number of cyclists riding through Bute Park and the busy little groups congregating roadside at the College of music and drama. A very chic lady sat astride a vintage racer. A couple of blokes with their workhorses. A student straddling a fixie (natch). A chap approached from behind me. Another 3 or 4 waited the other side of the road. It was all very civilised and quiet unexpected, so often the rain putting off cyclists in droves. These little moments – whilst insignificant in themselves – continue to suggest that the efficacy of cycling has reached a wider audience.
Cutting across the corner of Queen St today, the Italian market stall was back and adding a dab of colour to an otherwise colourless day. Cakes, sweets, cheeses, olives, capers and more. The sunny mediterranean meets the grey North Atlantic. Would I have noticed any of this in a car? Struggling through the jams and rushing out from the car park? Nah.