THE POET Paddy Kavanagh is alleged to have said there was nothing as sexy as a woman on a bicycle. He got it wrong, of course, because he clearly knew nothing about either women or bicycles.
The truth is there is nothing as frightening, dangerous or scary as a woman on one of them new bikes put on to the streets of Dublin last September to supposedly make our lives better.
In fact, the whole process of putting these bikes on to the streets of our capital city has made this city a far more dangerous place to be and has increased the likelihood of death and injury dramatically.
You see, most of the people who hire these machines do not know how to handle them, clearly do not own a bicycle and under no circumstances should be allowed near what we used to call the Iron Horse, ever.
If you were living in Dublin and owned a bike, you would cycle the bloody thing into the city centre yourself instead of having to hire one from the many special stands which have been set up around the city.
I suspect the people who pay their money and climb on these bikes are not allowed by husbands, brothers, mothers or fathers to go near a bicycle at home and they sneak into the city to indulge themselves.
I am not writing this lightly. On at least four occasions since the bikes were introduced, I have escaped serious injury, or even worse, from these bikers who persist in riding the wrong way up one-way streets, on pavements, breaking traffic lights and generally terrorising the walking public.
On one occasion, I was actually struck by a flying female on her bike as I carefully looked towards the on-coming traffic attempting to cross a one-way street. She of course, was going against the flow.
I am afraid I am getting too long in the tooth, short in the leg and grey in the head to be interfacing with young ones on bikes travelling at fair speeds and really not in control of themselves at all.
I am past that stage in life when being rammed up the rear end by a bike carrying a fine young specimen of Irish womanhood, her handbag and a briefcase, carries any great joy for me. Paddy Kavanagh might have liked it, but I did not.
To add insult to injury – I suspect she was a lawyer or solicitor – she compounded my shock by saying loudly as she picked me off the ground: “I’m afraid you did not see me. I could have been seriously injured.”
She could have been seriously injured. My God, there she was standing over my feeble frame with tyre marks up my backside and I half way through a good Act of Contrition, because I thought I had been hit by stray gunfire, something had fallen on me or I was getting a stroke.
Before I could lodge a formal complaint or even say anything, she hopped on her hired bike and disappeared into the traffic while I sat there numb on the ledge of a shop window trying to puzzle out what had happened.
One of the stations for picking up these machines is outside The Irish Timesoffices here in the centre of the city and it has greatly increased the danger to the gentle souls who work here.
The second scrape was with a male cyclist with his pinstripe suit trouser-legs pushed into his stockings, pedalling like a demon, again, against a one-way flow of traffic on Pearse Street, only this time on the pavement.
He was scattering pedestrians like confetti in front of him and I had the misfortune to be walking around the corner from Tara Street when his shoulder hit mine and he sent me flying.
He did have the good manners to shout “Sorry, old chap”, as I tried to catch my breath and thank the Lord for another survival.
The following day I had an amazing sighting of a former government minister, pedalling like fury, the wrong way up Tara Street, breaking the traffic lights and weaving in an out of traffic as he headed towards the Dáil, breaking all the rules, including gravity.
Anyhow, you should be aware of the facts if you are coming to this city for a break, or shopping or anything that involves walking in a civilised manner around Dublin city centre.
Be aware there are more than 30,000 subscribers to the bike scheme and the statistics show the average journey time, whether or not they knock anyone down, is 16 minutes.
The busiest days for the service, and therefore to you, are Thursdays and Fridays and by coincidence, I had my unscheduled meeting with Bike Girl on Thursday, December 10th which was one of the busiest days since the service began – there were over 4,000 rentals.
There is a small bit of good news, but not that exciting, insofar as the majority of long-term subscribers are male, making up a total of 67 per cent. The bad news is presumably, the rest are female and even worse, 57 per cent of long-term subscribers are 18 to 35 years old.
And, Sunday, the website says, is the quietest day. It should be.