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Send My Conscience Home in a Taxi

Externalised Memory

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Bikes Etc
Badtz Maru
My tram down Swanston Street was re-routed this morning. I was a bit cranky, especially since I'd managed to make the early train. It ended up taking me an hour to get to work, on a good day it takes less than 40 minutes.

Anyway, I got into work and discovered the reason that trams weren't running down Swanston Street was because a female cyclist had been killed under a bus. I am dating a female cyclist who routinely rides up Swanston Street! So I called her desk phone, which she answered straight away, and was surprised and delighted to hear from me - as I was delighted to hear her voice.

I still don't know who the cyclist was, but I do know a whole lot of them, so I'm worried. Not least because I regularly ride up that road. Last week I had to contend with at least four horse-and-carriage sets, and worried a little what would happen if a big horse got angry with a little cyclist... When we were both stopped at some lights, one of the horses was striking sparks off the asphalt whilst vigorously stomping the ground.

So, last I heard, the woman in question was 33 and lived in Parkville. The Age had a rather distressing picture of a bike on its side and a sheet covering a body - half way under a bus.

After work, I caught the tail end of a bit of a bike rally on the spot. Most cyclists seem to know each other, so a bunch gathered at the spot. In fact Deb was there, a few moments before I arrived. It was interesting to see. By the time I arrived there were maybe fifty bikes left, and they'd split into two groups - the lycra types on one side, the hippy feral types (my crowd) on the other!

It's a hard street to ride sometimes. Between the buses and the trams, there's often a very narrow gap, which it's terrifying to ride through - two 40 ton vehicles on each side!