Brake Shoe - What happened when Cinderella dropped her glass slipper.

Chainwheel - How to lock you bike so that only the frame is stolen.

Dooring - Nothing amusing to see here.

English Racer - Victoria Pendleton.

Face Plant - Why your mother told you to keep your nose clean.

Granny Gear - Cycling in bloomers.

Head Tube - Putting helmet-mounted camera footage on the Internet.

Involuntary Dismount - Driving somewhere.

Jam Nut - Owwww.

Kickstand - The proper sequence of events should someone push you off your bike.

LBS - Look Before Swerving.

Mountain Bike - A bike designed to be ridden on flat surfaces, usually pavements.

Noodle - That bit of hair which gets in your mouth but you can’t spit out.

Over the Bars - Giving up alcohol.

P******e - Something that only occurs when you’re running late.

Quick-Release - Having a pee at the side of the road.

Rim - The part of the body which hurts after the first long ride on a bike.

Stud - A male cyclist.

Touring - Taking a “short cut.”

U-brake - What to do at red traffic lights.

Vice-Grip - If you are not yet Over the Bars.

Wheel Bender - A very gay cyclist.

XC - To hug the gutter in the countryside.

You’re Welcome - The response drivers expect after informing you that you’re “awll over the farkin’ raaad”.

Zip Tie - A means to store items inside office wear.

I took her to see Journey to the Centre of the Earth in 3d a few weeks ago which she really enjoyed and I thought watchable, but two weeks later she asked to go see Wild Child, at the time I thought nothing of it, I was not prepared for the carnage that followed.

The film is about a spoilt Malibu barbie that is sent to boarding school in England where she learns all about true love and other cliched subjects, all delivered in glorious technicolor, when we walked into the cinema I was sure that other fathers present were looking at me with sorrow in their eyes as well as a look of abject terror for what was to come.

I spent most of the film with my mouth half open while silently praying to God to make it stop, at one point my daughter, who was laughing at all the crass humour and cooing at the romance and trendy outfits, looked around to see me sticking cocktail sticks in my eyes, it was irrelevant, she is becoming a teenager.

A week later she asked if we could do something with the sunny day, I had a flashback and started to suffer a panic attack as I recalled all the similar movies that were about to come out or had already, she then announced that she really wanted to go cycling, a reprieve.

As her father is the exclusive agent for Catrike recumbent trikes in the UK, she has by her own request a Catrike Trail, I ride an Expedition, over the last year she has not ridden that much due to starting a new school that is five minutes walk away and various other things, so I suggested we take an easy round trip of about 8 miles with a stop for lunch. I had bought her some running tights to cycle in which she objected to as she claims they make her legs look fat, but she wore them, I have been trying to talk her into clipless pedals and shoes but she had thus far resisted.

One of the things I was intent on was teaching her some roadcraft as earlier excursions had shown up some obvious dangers in the way she viewed other traffic, also in the past she would not in any way consider riding on the road at all other than to cross it. However it seems this has changed along with her ability to listen to advice on riding style, she took on the roadcraft and relished in me asking her questions about it, she rode on a couple of quiet roads as well as cycle lanes. She applied her new knowledge well.

Another notable change was her use of the gears on the trike and her glee of attaining high speed down hill, hitting 20-25 mph a couple of times. We rode along the river and had a huge lunch at a country park cafe before riding through a small nature reserve and then back into town and while she was tired at the end of it, she smiled all the way though it, even when she decided to ride up an embankment and turned the trike over, which led to an impromptu cable repair.

When we returned she declared that she wanted to cycle a lot more with me and that she wanted clipless pedals and shoes, so I picked her some shoes up this week and await Saturday to see if cycling is the order of the day or another teenage gore fest.

She has started talking about boys as well.

Wednesday August 27, 2008, 16 miles (26 km) - Total so far: 27 miles (43 km)

Woke about 07:30am, and lazily packed the panniers and luggage. We wandered over to the dining room of the hotel, and tucked into the cereal and fruit juice. Lucia had some bacon and toast, but the bacon, it seems, was almost inedible due to being more salty than the Atlantic ocean. I, on the other hand, had some smoked haddock and a poached egg - just lovely.

We checked out, and freewheeled down the High Street, laughing as we were effortlessly taken down the hill - the wrong way !!!!!! A hurried check of the map, and a rather severe glare from Lucia had us straining back up the road until the correct turning appeared. We cruised through the empty lanes, passing through Tiverton and climbing the hill at Beeston. We stopped at Beeston Castle, but decided against paying the entrance fee, and instead amused ourselves for 30 minutes in the visitor centre. For some, unfathomable reason, both Lucia and myself forget to buy an ice cream - this is something that would have to be remedied later !

No sooner had the promise of an ice-cream been made, than we arrived in Bunbury, a lovely village with elegant and beautiful cottages, and were able to buy a much needed ice-cream.

The weather hadn’t improved since the beginning. Cloudy, grey, overcast yet warm. There was only the faintest of breezes however, so I suppose the cycling was a pleasure even if the countryside wasn’t at its best in the gloom. After a few miles we reached Cholmondelely Castle (pronounced “Chumley”). It had a most impressive driveway, a leafy avenue stretching for almost half a mile before it reached the ticket man. He, the ticket man, was very helpful and friendly, pointing out the benefits of cycling in the grounds (cars have to park before the gardens, cyclists don’t).

We spent a few hours there, playing on the climbing frames and swings (well, one of us did). We also wandered around the gardens which, even to my rather philistine’s eye, were quite stunning. We had cake, we saw pigs and we bought some presents for those still at home. If you are ever in the area, I recommend it !

It was only a short few miles to our second nights accomodation, a farm house B&B near Malpas. It was, however, on the top of a long, steep(ish) drag, that came at the end of a rather tiring day. Lucia needed a little help to get to the top, but very soon we were happily esconsed in the warm, inviting amostphere of Hampton House farmhouse B&B. Our hosts could not have been more friendly or helpful, even driving us down to the local pub for dinner, and arranging for the pub to drive us back once we had finished. Lucia collapsed asleep as soon as we got back, but I managed to watch the football on TV, seeing Liverpool beat Liege in extra time !

Even the bikes needed a rest

Day Three : The end

Thursday August 28, 2008, 20 miles (32 km) - Total so far: 47 miles (76 km)

Day One : The beginning

Tuesday August 26, 2008, 11 miles (18 km) - Total so far: 11 miles (18 km)

Well, today is the day; My daughter, Lucia, and I start our epic (well, not epic so much as tiny) tour of Cheshire. The plan is to drive to just South of Chester, near Stamford Mill, park the car in a farm yard, and then spend three happy days pootling around the quiet lanes of rural Cheshire.

All ready and waiting

I had bought some cheap panniers from Lidl (£15 - a bargain I thought) and strapped them to my trusty Dawes Horizon. We were having a supported tour, since this would be our first attempt, and therefore our main luggage would be moved from one night to the next by these nice people. So into the panniers went snacks, locks, waterproofs and other assorted necessities, adding quite a bit of weight, but nothing too frightening. We packed the bicycles into the back of the car, and at about 09:30am, drove down the M53…

We arrived in plenty of time at the farm, and parked the car and unloaded the bicycles, putting the panniers back on. At this point it became apparent that the velcro and strapping method of attaching the panniers that Lidl employ is perhaps not the most convenient, since it takes quite a bit of grunting and cursing, as well as rather a lot of manual dexterity. Never mind, I’m sure I will get used to it. We parked the bikes up against the wall and waited for Carolyn from ByWays to turn up.

A couple of minutes after 11:00am, Carolyn arrived, very friendly and efficient, she took our luggage, gave us a printed weather forecast, wished us well, and disappeared. The farm cat turned up, and curled around our legs, looking for food or attention. It got a quick scratch behind the ears, then we pointed our bikes down the track out of the farm, took a breath, and began to pedal - our adventure had begun.

The last living thing to see us depart - hope we see it again when we return!

Two minutes later we stopped, the first of many, many stops that we would take during the day. We had the route marked out on an Ordnance Survey map, and also described on a piece of A4 paper. Places of interest and places to eat were also marked - the problem was that I only had my panniers to store these most important items, so I had to stop again and again to refer to them. (Lucia would not have been pleased if we had ridden miles in the wrong direction so it was essential that we kept to the route ). Having checked the route yet again, we pedalled along a cart track, bouncing over stones and rocks “I don’t like this; it is too rough, I’m going to fall off !” We crossed over three tiny bridges that spanned a rather murky pool of water, and eventually came back to a tarmac road.

Waiting on the bridge

It was at this point that Lucia had a moment of inspiration, and a few minutes later the plastic sleeve that had held all of our information was now elastoplasted to my handlebars, holding the torn up OS map in full, easy seen, glory. A DIY map holder of the highest quality - nothing could stop us now ! We pedalled onwards, the aim of the day was to reach Tarporley, about 11 miles away; not a huge distance, not even a small distance, but one that Lucia and I felt comfortable with. So we cycled through Tarvin, a pleasant village with a picturesque church, before turning off the road onto another track, this one muddy and churned by cattle. We were forced to push the bikes for a bit, but were soon back on the quiet country roads. We passed through Oscroft and stopped in Willington for lunch. Happily stuffed with good pub food, and having spent a few minutes chatting to a handsome horse and feeding it grass in the adjacent field, we set off again, swooping down the hills (well, perhaps not swooping, since Lucia is not too keen on going fast down slopes - and neither am I really), and aimed our bikes towards Oulton.

After maybe an hour of pleasant pootling, a car overtook us, then pulled in. A women of mature years got out of the driving seat and flagged us down. “I’m trying to get to Tarporley, but the A51 is closed, and the blasted satnav will not tell me where to go!” Suppressing a small grin, I pointed to the crossroads about 20 yards ahead, the signpost to Tarporley just visible; “Turn right at this junction, and you should be fine” I said, so with a muttered thanks, she hopped back into her car and zoomed off. Lucia and I exchanged a wry smile and trundled over the cross roads, taking a long loop before we arrived at our destination. The last couple of miles were tiring for Lucia and she was immensely pleased to see ‘The Swan Hotel’ sign as we crawled up Tarporley High Street.

Our bags had been safely delivered by Carolyn, and within 30 minutes, we were checked in, our bikes locked up securely (in the kitchen we found out later), and we could rest our weary legs in the comfortable bar, sipping a Cains bitter and a lemonade.

It was the 25^th March 2008. It was a fairly typical day at work, at least it was until I got a phone call from my wife.

Mrs Magnatom: You’re on lunch time news.

Me: What!?

Mrs Mag: Your on the STV lunchtime news! They are trying to find out who the ‘vigilante’ cyclist is, called Magnatom!

Me: Oh, poppycock! (Or words to that effect)

This was the first I knew of what would become a very interesting day….

I’d been posting my youtube videos for quite some time by March 2008. My videos seemed to be having an effect on those who viewed them. There were those who looked at my videos and thought my videoing of incidents was a good thing. Highlighting road safety issues, showing what happens on the roads when there is a cyclist about. There were also those that seemed to think I was the spawn of Satan. In fact I appeared to affecting people enough to gain my own cyber stalker.

Why people took such a dim view of me, I do not fully understand. I know that on one of the forums that I posted (bloodbus where I tried to reason, but I was often threatened and lied about), some would say I could come across as condescending when I tried to discuss road safety issues. Maybe I did come across like that, but it was never my intention. I just believe in the rights of cyclists on the road, whilst admitting that cyclists are sometimes their own worst enemies (i.e red light jumping, pavement cycling etc).

On bloodbus, a couple of characters took a particular dislike to me. Hamsters4breekie, The Paramedic (who allegedly died), HamiltonNutter and later Paramedsis (who claimed to be Paramedics sister) all took exception to me, mainly for the fact that was a cyclist, and all cyclists were scum. On one particular day though things got very nasty. Paramedsis claimed to be a policewoman working in Glasgow. She had provided quite a lot of details about her work, so it might have been true. HamiltonNutter had also claimed to have met her whilst working, so that backed up her story.

Anyway to cut a long story short Paramedsis made claims online that she had previously caught me for drink driving and that was why I cycled to work (not true of course!). A lot of commotion occurred at that point and after some research it was found that not only was she, not a police woman, but she probably wasn’t a she. In fact Paramedic, HamiltonNutter, and Paramedsis were all the same person and appeared to be out to discredit me!

Hamsters4breekie (I later found out who he was in the real world and he was another who had multiple online persona) did something similar, claiming that I had got him the sack from First Buses (since proven to be a lie with the aid of First).

Shortly after all of the hullabaloo I started receiving death threats on my youtube and videos and one was sent privately to me. Things started to get nasty. The threats had obviously caught the eye of a freelance reporter because I received an e-mail message from him asking to chat to me about my videos and the abuse I was receiving(he mentioned the Sun, so I didn’t contact him). He decided to run a story on Magnatom anyway and an article appeared in the Sun (unbeknownst to me) on the 25^th March 2008 (see left).

Obviously the STV caught site of this and decided to run the story as well. So without my knowledge the Sun and STV were asking people to phone/text in, if they knew who the ‘vigilante’ cyclists was.

I was faced with a dilemma. Should I talk to the press, and reveal my identity, especially considering the threats that had been made against me, or should I remain quiet. The problem with remaining quiet was that I would have no control over what the follow up stories would be, especially in the Sun, although the first had been reasonably positive.

After having a chat with the police where they suggest that, as I wasn’t Marin Luther King, it was unlikely that anyone would go out their way to harm me, and after consulting with my wife, I decided to contact the STV and to do an interview with them. I hoped that in doing that I could get my point of view across and it would head off any negative press that the Sun might have been planning the next day.

Here is what resulted.

Following this, the sun posted an article the following day, where they took all of the text from what I said on the news interview, although the day after that in John ’smeato’ Smeaton’s column I got called an Al Qae Pedal cyclist (I laughed at that!). Overall though, the press was positive and my decision to do the interview with STV had worked out well. I even got on Radio Scotland a week later!

Thankfully, after that, things returned back to a more normal level of abuse and I started doing after dinner speeches at a reasonable fee. Ok I might not have any takers yet ;-). The death threats slowed to a trickle and most of the abuse I get now is of the get a life/job/car etc all of which I have, thanks!

Who knows, maybe out of all of it a few people might have realised that cyclists should have as much respect on the roads as everyone else, just as cyclists should respect others. Maybe a few drivers will think twice when driving around cyclists Does that cyclist have a helmet camera? And who knows, maybe I have increased the turover of a few companies that sell helmet cameras……..

Whilst on a recent trip to Michigan I bumped into a fixed rider and asked him about what kinds of cycling the area offered. 70 mile excursions along the wide open roads seemed to be his ride of choice. With more space on the tarmac, and fewer cars per mile than in the UK, I could see the appeal. Personally I was surprised by the poor condition of the roads. They say everything is bigger in the USA and that also includes potholes.

Although I didn’t find many mountain bikers in downtown Ann Arbor I discovered the next best thing… mountain bike beer. The local brewing company teamed up with a nearby Ypsilanti bike shop to support local trails through the sale of beer. I was able to express my ‘support’ for the mountain bikers several evenings running.

On the wide sidewalks on Ann Arbor and the leafy university campus sit-up-and-beg bikes intermingled at low speeds with pedestrians. Cycle paths are conspicuous by their absence. Cyclists actually use their bells and pedestrians seem to respond appropriately. Very strange. Of course it wasn’t all idyllic and one taxi driver rattled off the familiar shouldn’t be on the road tirade. However two factors seemed to make cycling more appealing to the citizens. Firstly the weather is quite settled, so although the winters are very cold, the summer is relatively dry so people spend less time worrying about packing waterproof clothing. Secondly Ann Arbor is a relatively low crime area and the fear of bicycle theft was a minimal concern. Londoners would laugh at the puny bike locks Ann Arbor residents use.

A graduate student at the nearby University of Michigan said she bought a cheap mountain bike from Target due to rumours of quality bikes being stripped for parts. But on the whole people seemed happy to take their bicycles pretty much everywhere. Some commutes were surprisingly short which seemed to free people up to take less clutter with them - afterall who needs a puncture repair kit, pump, multitool, water and so on when the commute is only two miles?

Back in England I find myself wondering if more people would take up cycling if it weren’t for the fear of theft or vandalism? Unfortunately whatever we do the weather is one thing we really can’t fix.

So if cyclists are in such danger on the road, why use it? Local governments spend tax payers money increasing cycling provisions, so why don’t cyclists just get off the road and use those instead? Surely it is in everybody’s interest if they didn’t use the road at all.

Firstly, lets clear up an incorrect belief that I’ve heard a couple of times. Cyclists are not allowed to cycle on the pavement. It is illegal to do so, and cyclists caught may have to pay a fixed penalty fine (Section 51 and Schedule 3 of the Road Traffic Offenders Act 1988). It also completely disregards the needs of any pedestrians, who in comparison to cyclists are the more vulnerable party. Cyclists who do this are being selfish, but sometimes justify their actions in that they feel pressurised into using pavements to avoid the dangerous behaviour of a minority of people on the road.

Cycle lanes are often touted as a catch-all solution to this problem. Theoretically, a segregated cycle lane will allow a cyclist to be safe from other traffic, and also without the cyclist affecting other road users or pedestrians.

Sadly, many cycle lanes are so badly designed they are utterly unusable. Imagine a road where the signposts are grounded in the middle of the lane, and whats more, a tree is planted there too! Ridiculous? For cyclists this is more common than you might think. Many cycle lanes are “advisory” meaning that other road users can use them to drive in, sometimes to park in or walk on, but give the impression that cyclists must remain in them at all times.

This isn’t the case. In fact, The Highway Code was recently amended to make this clear (rule 63).

Yet some cycle lanes are installed without any consideration for the impact that their placement may have. Last week’s article demonstrated that a cyclist may need to move to the centre of a lane when passing a traffic island to prevent dangerous overtaking. However, near my home the council have painted cycle lanes to encourage the cyclist to keep to the left.

Furthermore, there simply isn’t space on the road for the cyclist and the car to pass side by side at the island, as this photograph demonstrates. The lane shown here is “advisory” which means that other vehicles may use that part of the road should they wish, however this sort of marking encourages cyclists to keep to the left, and drivers to think that there is space to pass by safely when there is not.

Cycle lanes are also poorly maintained. It is not uncommon for them to have broken glass, and other debris scattered across them. They are often used for parking other vehicles (increasing the chance that a cyclist may be “doored“), or simply be a handy place to put road signage. Where cycle lanes are not a part of the road they are often treated as footpaths by pedestrians, a problem which is exacerbated by the proliferation of shared use paths and increases the problem of cyclists having to look out for potential dangers.

Similarly, cycle lanes are quite often not the most direct route. They often cover many more junctions than a road, with frequent “Cyclist Dismount” signs.

Not that I want to portray myself as Twickenham Cyclist’s shameless publicist, but he has produced a very good video demonstrating how much longer a journey can take when using a cycle path. Cycle paths can be equated to drivers having to travel long journeys through housing estates and carparks. The route would laborious, and the progress slow. Roads, on the other hand, provide more-or-less direct routes to the required destination, with rules that are followed by most users.

Don’t get me wrong, a well designed cycle lane can be of great benefit to many cyclists. Sometimes they will be a handy route for avoiding heavy traffic, provide a shortcut (or even a longcut), give new or inexperienced cyclists somewhere to gain confidence without intimidation, or for leisure cyclists to have a gentle pedal.

But a cyclist may choose to use the road, not only because it is their legal right to do so, but for the same reason any motorist will choose to use a particular route - it is the easiest, quickest, or otherwise most beneficial way for them to get to where they are going.

It occurs to me that this post and my last portray cycling almost as an inherently dangerous activity, when this quite frankly isn’t the case. As long as a cyclist takes the appropriate measures to protect themself, and other road users do likewise (not really an undue expectation) then cycling is a perfectly safe activity.

Camcart is made from steel tubing, bends seem accurate and welds of a reasonable quality. Following the online step-by-step instructions on above site it went together easily, bolt holes lining up well but a proper 10mm spanner served better for assembly than the supplied stamped out steel plate multi-size thing.
Instructions are included in the box but are in German. (Product is shipped from Germany).

Very sturdy once assembled. I can’t see that the 100kg as a handcart / 40kg for cycle towing would present any problem.

Small problems I encountered. The towing ball attaches to the bike seat stem clamp, the one on my Giant Escape is quite tapered where the clamping bolt fits and a trip to my LBS soon found one that suited better (see http://picasaweb.google.com/GaryDangerousday/BikeCartPhotos ).

A bit of ‘persuasion’ with vice/hammer to close the 2 mount sides up a bit and then bolted it all together ready for its first trial. Incidentally packaging stated 12 bolts included - I only got 11 but due the clamp issue that didn’t prove a problem.

Cart does not sit horizontally on its own supporting leg (would be in the way when towing if it did) when used as a handcart.

First trip was to local tip (about a 2 mile round trip) with the sturdy plastic bin of 90 litres full of very damp (heavy) garden waste. I used luggage straps around the frame to hold on the large cardboard box the cart came in to take that away too. Towball arrangement rattles a bit over bumps, but it just served to remind me the trailer was there. It really does roll very easily with little discernible effect on bike handling.
I found to my cost you cannot drop 2 wheel trailers off curbs at anything but 90 degrees (D’oh!) when it fell over- luckily at the end of a dead end street.

I’m very pleased with it and can see it being used regularly. The optional plastic cover is a good fit (shopping? detach trailer from bike and take it straight into kitchen? Hmmm)

Supplier very friendly and apologetic over a long delivery time due to holiday periods in Germany but kept me informed, a sort of LBS type service. Also a thanks to my LBS - Cliff Pratt Cycles for help with the clamp and generally being a nice buch of folk even on a very busy saturday morning.

As I mentioned in my previous blog article, I am a borg on a bike (BOB). So how did I become a BOB.

It all started with the birth of my first son 3 years ago.

My wife and I had always had one car between the two of us. That worked fine for us, and my wife would often drop me off at work on the way to her work. However, with the impending birth of our son I realised that my wife would be off on maternity leave for a considerable length of time and would probably benefit from the use of the car. So my options were; buy a second car (too expensive), take public transport (very, very inconvenient), or get a bike.

My commute was five miles each way, so after investigating online (on the old C+ forum) I decided that cycling was by far the best option and would allow me to get some exercise in as well. So a Ridgeback Cyclone was purchased, and following my paternity leave I bit the bullet and cycled. Scary at first, but after I settled in I realised how brilliant it was. Of course the beautiful weather at the time (28C) helped!

My cycling technique at the time was far from perfect. I will admit that I used the occasional footpath in those days, but I soon learned the err in my ways. However, as time passed I realised was that I was having incidents on a reasonably regular basis which I felt were dangerous, i.e, vehicles passing too close, cutting me up, pulling out in front of me etc. So after reading some discussion on C+ where a couple of users were talking about using helmet cameras, I decided when I had the money, I would take the plunge. Before I did though I decided to have a go with my mobile phone strapped to my bag strap (Nokia N70). So on the 29^th June 2006 my youtube broadcasting days began with a video of me cycling through the Clyde Tunnel I used this phone on the odd occasion when it wasn’t raining!

It wasn’t until January 2007 that I bought my first proper helmet camera the ATC-2000. It could be described as many things, but small isn’t one of them. So I plonked it on the left side of my helmet and once my neck muscles recovered, and I learned to point it in the right direction, I started filming. It wasn’t long until it showed its worth.

The bus driver in this clip decided to start overtaking me, despite the lack of room. A quick glance over at him, a quick tap of the helmet camera, and amazingly he backed off!. Result!!

From that moment on I was fully assimilated into the BOB……

The south-west corner of Singapore is dominated by industry. Thanks to some forward thinking/paternalism in the middle of the last century, the gently rolling hills of this corner of the island were scooped up and used to fill in some pesky bits of sea. The area is now nice and flat and is covered in various factories. Small outlying islands have been adjoined and turned into an enormous petrol refinery where access is restricted to prevent terrorist attacks.

The upshot of all this is that there exist some lovely nice wide roads that are relatively free of traffic at the weekends and in the evenings, so not bad cycling conditions. Whilst most people like nothing other than to tour the more picturesque regions of the world, scaling the Alps or cruising the country lanes of Cornwall, I’m quite a fan of industrial areas.

Whilst I will freely admit that the Alps are stunning, there is also a beauty to behold in industrial wastescapes, in a refinery, or a container port. One of my favourite spots in London is Creekmouth, a massive expanse of nothingness near Dagenham. It overlooks the river where it is nice and wide and deep enough to receive big ships, and affords a great view of the Ford plant and the sewage works to the south.

These places are full of life, there are always lights twinkling, flames burning atop narrow stacks, machinery moving back and forth, night never really falls on these places. From the window in my apartment I can admire the constant to and fro of the truly massive container movers of the Keppel port, ships arrive and depart all day, heralded by a blasting poop of their big horns. The stacks of containers rise and fall, ships bob up and down as they are relieved of their cargo and instantly replenished.

This kind of activity dominates most of the south coast of Singapore. As you head further west, the air becomes heavy with fuel fumes and warehouses which looked like small blocks of flats from a distance loom above you, immense and windowless, impressing upon you the sheer scale of everything. Singapore might be tiny, but its influence is huge, a massive amount of stuff comes in and goes back out every single day.

Some might think this the antithesis of what cycling should be about, why do I glory in what most find ugly and depressing? But there is beauty nestled in amongst the concrete megaliths. Many of the roads remain tree-lined, beautiful views of the sea appear suddenly in between factories and shipyards, workers collapse and sweat in shady patches under the trees nestled in the corners by the fences.

All of this rolls by me on my way to the second bridge to Malaysia, and it would not let go its grip. The Tuas checkpoint is for motors only. The approach is a motorway, so I had little choice but to bend the rules and slip onto the road from which I am banned and make my final approach to the barriers. At the bus and coach checkpoint the police were very friendly, and told me to turn around. Then ensued a quick discussion in Malay, and they suggested I try ‘upstairs’, at the car and motorbike checkpoint. This involved doubling back down the motorway, doing a u-turn at the first junction, and climbing the drag up to the top deck, where after a number of phone calls to the bosses, I was told to go back again.

So rather than take my lunch in Malaysia as planned, I retraced my route back to the industrial wastes and found a food court I had passed on the way to the bridge.

Food Courts are something that the UK could think about introducing, they really are great. The concept is simple. You have a communal seating area surrounded by various stalls. Most stalls specialize in a small number of dishes, so the quality is often rather good. Other stalls operate a ‘pick-n-mix’ system, with a number of dishes on offer. Rice is dumped onto your plate and you pick and choose what to have alongside. ‘Aunties’ and ‘Uncles’ from the drinks stalls stalk the tables and shout your orders back to their colleagues and return sharpish with a variation on your order. Others prowl and remove the used cutlery and crockery so that subsequent diners may take your place.

You don’t hang around a food court at lunch time. Singapore is busy, to say the least, and it can be impossible to find a place to sit in the popular places. Clued up Singaporeans reserve their spots with little ‘Handy-Andy’ packs of tissues, whilst first-timers walk in endless circles with their food going cold in a futile attempt to find a seat.

Most importantly, food centres are cheap, a meal and a drink will set you back between $3 and $6 (1-2 pounds). If we could introduce this system in the UK, I think it would be incredibly popular. A cooked meal, tasty and quick, costing probably about three pounds, it’s got to be a winner!