New bike

June 12, 2006 · Filed Under Me · 4 Comments

I picked up my new bike, and a new lock on Saturday. The bike has a black aluminium frame, 21 speed 'flick' change Shimano gears (I don't like the 'grip shift' system), V-brakes and rather nice looking black spoked 28 inch wheels. I've popped my favourite saddle on it, too. It's a sort of cross between 'city' and 'touring' bike. It has flat handlebars and no suspension. I like it a lot.

On Saturday afternoon I strapped my heart rate monitor on and did an hours training in our local park. My legs are a bit stiff as a result and I feel a little saddle sore after my absence from cycling of a few months. On Sunday I went off for an early morning ride to see how long it would take to get to where I work. On the way back I tried to be clever and explore another route back to 'casa mia' and I got lost! At the same time the handlebar worked its way loose and this made the ride home interesting.

The bike will also double as work transport around town, hence the expensive, heavy chain and lock I got for it. I got a black frame in the hope that the bike would look a bit understated and thus not attract the attentions of those who pinch the things, but I'm a little sorry to say that it looks a bit too good, meaning that I shall worry about parking it up for long periods.

I shall pop out this evening to do another training session in an attempt to reduce my ever increasing girth.

Some friends of mine, Hugh and Nicola, re-introduced me to the joys of cycling, mountain biking actually, some twelve years back and I love it. During my youth my parents got me a three-speed bike, which, I have to say, was a real pain in the hilly area in which we then lived, and struggling up hills somewhat put me off the whole cycling thing. Getting a good quality bike changed all that and at one point I was even able to whizz up hills. Yes, I used to be quite fit. 25 to 35 miles seemed like nothing. When I was first in Italy I would do 60 miles in well under a day on the flat expanse which is the Milanese plain.

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Tags: Italy

Roaming 2

June 12, 2006 · Filed Under Italy · Comment

Well, my trip down to the capital of the Living Museum turned out to be quite uneventful and I saw just about nothing of the city. Typical business trip, really. You fly in, go to where you've got to go and then fly out. Travelling sounds glamorous, but it can be quite a non-event. The flights were efficient and flying really is the best way to, in all senses when you don't want to waste time.

The only minor problem was the return flight, which was delayed by half an hour and, according to what I overheard, is a common event on Friday's with this company. Still, the prices are low, so you tend to put up with more.

On the way back from the airport in the evening I had an interesting chat with the taxi driver. I'm not sure how we got taking about it, but he seemed to want Milan to be sold to the French, Austrian or British, anything as long as it could distance itself from the rest of scandal ridden Italy. The scandal to which he was referring is the currently simmering football-gate. This guy said he didn't even feel like following the football world championships, because he thought the spirit had gone out of the whole affair. He put Italy's woes down to a dishonest and greedy management class, and stated that Juventus should be demoted to the second (or is that first, I get confused - I think it's premier, followed by first, then second, but I don't really know or care), and if Juve (pronounced 'Youva'- with the 'a' as in 'aid' is not booted down, then this will indicated that nothing has changed as a result of the scandal. He was not a happy chappy.

The laments of a disgruntled member of the working classes? No, not, really, you see it turned out that this taxi driver had a degree in physics. He said you needed to be over 70 to get anywhere in the academic establishment in the Living Museum. This is, I guess, why he was driving a taxi. Just killing time. I felt rather sorry for him, I did. However, this is Italy, quite often. If you know nobody, then you cannot even get your foot in any door. This leaves you with two options: stay in Italy and take a menial job, and feel unhappy, or: leave Italy; if you can; get a much better paid job, but, probably, feel unhappy that you could not do what you wanted in the country in which you grew up. Odd is it not?

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