My mind wanders during car journeys. On a recent drive to visit family in the north of Scotland I

Old faithful

imagined what would it be like to hop back aboard the steel-framed Peugeot that was my teenage years’ pride and joy? Would the current, approaching-forty me cope without his lightweight, carbon-fibre steed; would my ageing legs cope without a compact?

There was only one way to find out, so I clambered into the dustiest corner of my mother’s garage and returned dragging a relic. It needed new tyres, a pair of pedals would be useful, but otherwise it looked perfectly serviceable.

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