If the narration is to be believed, Rugby is an idyllic bicycle utopia.
Rugby isn’t one of those towns that sprawls a rash of semi-detached villas over the face of the land. It still keeps within its bounds; snug, compact,
with respect for the country out of which it has grown.
I wonder if it’s still like that in Rugby.
Into the peaceful countryside, where tree-lined lanes welcome these friendly processions that bring no exhaust smoke, no petrol fumes, and no racket or blaring of horns.
Well Fuck me running. I want to go!
…Only the humming of tires and the talk that arises between solicitor and carpenter, teacher and typesetter, electrician and radiographer. Between people of all ages, ranks and station, who rediscover their common humanity in finding countryside, exercise, and companionship – all in one.
Now, I’m really looking forward to the ramble! Woo Hoo!
Maybe next year, I’ll come out for the 3-speed tour.