So I was writing a piece about the cycle wars, just for fun. Had the thing pretty much wrestled to the ground, quiescent if not roped, and I decided to go for a ride. Not proving anything, or tempting anything. Just a fabulous spring day, apartment to look at, and that nice cycleway to take me directly there. What could be better?
And what did I find (besides a whole bunch of wildly overpriced apartments)? Not one but three complete or near-complete blockages of the cycleway. First, a bunch of half a dozen cycle cops having a natter (funny). Second, a hardware truck from Merrylands (where?) that I’d already noticed running a red light. (Marginally less amusing).
And then, just when I’m starting to channel one of those vigilante cyclists who goes round filming every jerk and misdemeanour (like Doug Gordon’s Brooklyn Spoke or Ian Dutton’s Guerilla Bike Lane) , a third – a massive plainclothes furniture removal van parked completely across, so that I had to get off the bike and walk.
“Nice place to park,” I said, thinking to leave it there. But his reply, as he pulled a mattress from the truck and shouldered it, made me stop and take his picture.
“I can’t stop the traffic,” he said.
“Exactly what you are doing.” (Me)
“I haven’t got time. I got work to do.”
“Yes, me also.”
“Ya got any complaints, tell Clover Moore. She’s such an educated woman.”
That’s ‘educated’ used as an insult. Only in Australia.
It was entirely unmarked (do they use these trucks delberately so they can piss people off with impunity?) but the delivery papers in the front showed it was from Domayne Bedding in Alexandria.