Lazy, languid, long-distance cycle rides

"If you have a bike that works, stuff those trousers into those socks. Set off. See where you end up." So says James Walsh in a recent Guardian article, which I really enjoyed.

The weather right now couldn't be more perfect for Londoners to go exploring on a bike. Yet it makes me sigh to think that so many will celebrate the bank holiday weekend by spending their hard-earned money on an evening's quick fix in some overcrowded pub, with a DJ playing rubbish 'music' so loud that socialising means virtually sniffing another person's ear as you shout platitudes into it. Much better, surely, to enjoy a quiet night then a long, exciting day after - getting up early enough to experience the capital's car-less streets on a bike, or maybe riding out into the countryside, to breathe in some fresh air, hear the sounds of the wildlife, and even see some real-life country folk/investment bankers.

None of which costs a thing. Except, perhaps, the street-cred that comes with wearing your trousers outside your socks.

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