Down St. John’s Street we ride, ringing our bells, forcing the throngs of visiting Spanish students to part as we pass. At Bridge Street, we navigate a right turn, which is tough when you are riding on the left side and have to avoid a trolley and masses of tourists. But we plow through, claiming our share of the road. We head down narrow Thompson Lane, avoiding potholes and pedestrians, and within minutes we are on Jesus Green and the bike path. “Phew,’’ says Sandhya. And that’s it for drama. In single file, we ride the path beside the Cam. Then we veer from the river and cycle beside meadows and 17th-century stone farmhouses. “So lovely,’’ my colleague Lisa says. We relax on a green before heading back.
Among the fast and the furious, learning to bike British
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We arrive back at Caius without incident. Fourteen miles and no crashes. We encountered only one rude cyclist - we were too pokey - and no rude motorists. Maybe we were lucky, or maybe common sense with a dash of courage is all it took. We will keep our bikes for the week.
Tomorrow my husband and I will ride down King’s Parade before the shops open, through the dreaded Trumpington Street intersection, and onto a bike path that will lead us out of town. We will encounter a rotary, speedy motorists, and a fellow cyclist who swears at me for dismounting at the Cyclist Dismount sign.
On the last morning of our rental, my husband, Lisa, and I talk about our next stint in Cambridge, and how we will rent bikes for the whole six weeks. We talk about buying extra strong locks - 10 bikes per day are stolen in Cambridge - and taking the city-sponsored bike safety course. We agree that despite a survey stating that no injuries were suffered in 72 percent of the bike accidents reported in Cambridge and Oxford, we will look unmistakably American. When we return we will wear helmets. We can only be so British.
Sue Hertz can be reached at smhertz@comcast.net.
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