They say you never forget how to ride a bike. I’m not so sure. I got one a few weeks ago and have found it a very wobbly experience! Then I tried to remember when I had last been on a bicycle and I think it might be well over forty years ago! I still remember when I was about six or seven having a little red and white bicycle that my Dad had lovingly painted for my Christmas present – actually, I’m wrong, it was Santa who did the painting… It was second-hand, of course, as so many things were in the olden days (pre-owned or pre-loved they would call it now). I also recall learning to ride it. There were no stabilisers in those far-off days so off we went along the path to the Moat Park in Dundonald: me on the new bike, Dad running behind me, holding the saddle. I expect we did that several times before I suddenly realised that Dad was standing still and I had taken off on my own. It felt like flying – briefly – before I lost my nerve, wobbled and fell off… and then we did it all over again. There’s definitely a lesson for life in there but I won’t spell it out! Over the past few weeks I have been launching out on the two-way cycle paths here in Nieuw Vennep, trying to work up the courage to just ride on at junctions, trusting that the cars will stop for me as they do for all the other cyclists… the Bicycle is King in the Netherlands! As I ride I keep thinking of the song from Postman Pat about Miss Hubbard, the very prim church organist – ‘An upright lady on an upright bike’ (note the position of my handlebars!).