I can hardly wait for Monday. Strange, but true. It’s not that I particularly want to wish the weekend away, but by Monday the Argus Tour will be over and we won’t have to deal with lycra-bedecked traffic obstructions at every turn.
The fortnight before the tour is always a jaw-clenching exercise in anger management for me. All the local entrants to the race suddenly realise that time is running out and they try to cram as much training as possible into the last two weeks. Even during rush hour, you can hardly turn your head without seeing someone’s bulging backside shoehorned into a pair of cycling shorts. If these characters are so keen on spandex and sweat, why don’t they just join a modern dance class and leave the roads to serious users?
Many of Cape Town’s roads are narrow, but there is usually sufficient space for a car to pass a bicycle without having to swerve into oncoming traffic, provided that the thrice-damned cyclist doesn’t ride in the middle of the lane! And what in the name of seventeen thousand hells are they doing on the freeways? I think the question that needs to be asked is why there aren’t more bicycle-related road-rage incidents.