With one thing or another, including some challenging family stuff and a death in my peer group, I had a rough week and wound up neither communicating or sleeping well. Speechless, sleepless and exhausted. I woke at 5am today and eventually gave up on getting unconscious again.
After a cup of tea and a half-hearted look through the papers, I decided what I needed instead of sitting around feeling anxious was a ride to Avondale markets. I'd be back in time for Sunday poached eggs.
As I waited on the centre line to turn right from Carrington Road into the cycleway, a car came past to my left; too close, too fast, its horn blaring.
"Oh, fuck off," I said, loudly.
"Good morning!" I bid the pack of Sunday road riders who'd been watching.
"Ooh, naughty," laughed one. "You rode on the road!'
It seemed to make sense to make an effort to talk to people, face to face, in real life, so when I pulled up to lock my bike to the fence at Avondale Raceway, I smiled at the guy on the other side, who'd pulled up with an incredible-looking electric cargo bike arrangement.
"Where'd you ride from?" I asked him.
"Onehunga," he panted. "And the power ran out at New Windsor."
I came around inside the fence and asked if I could take his picture with my phone. He said sure. I decided I'd take more pictures ...
