Saturday evening out, seeing pals I hadn’t seen in over two years and I chain my bike up at the bike parking at my local railway station. Train gets delayed half an hour as there’s someone lying on the tracks in the really dark bit between Sloterdijk and Centraal. Trams are all on time so that’s fine. But my mood’s already a bit darkened, what with the attempted suicide and all.
Have a good couple of hours at an ace wee Peruvian restaurant, although it’s noisy and my auditory processing disorder prevents me from following conversation easily it’s just great to be out and among friends again. Get back to the station and I see my bike’s not there. Obviously someone’s little joke, but there’s no sign of it anywhere. Rage, scream, feel stupid.
Walking the 5km home I go through the five stages of grief, and get in the door just feeling really sad. I bought it at a CycleHighlands demo day in 2013, when I wasn’t even interested in buying a bike but just fancied shredding a few trails on stuff I couldn’t afford, and after handing back whatever the 2013 Kona 29er full susser was, expressed intrigue in the Explosif. And I gelled with it instantly! Eight years of adventures we’d had, from Glenlivet to Tarland via loads of local trails, I’d dipped its tyres in the water both sides of the north sea, and I’d ridden it none-handed down the beach all the way from Hargen to Egmond. I loved that bike.
I’ve reported it to the police, for whatever that’s worth, and earlier I went back to the railway station to look again in the daylight. I was obviously looking dodgy as I was approached by the train police and when I told them what I was doing and could they maybe help, they replied along the lines of ‘no, this bike parking area’s run by the council. Park the other side of the railway line next time, that bit’s run by us, lolz’ and buggered off.
So yeah, I’m gutted. It had to be the one irreplaceable bike that I had that they stole, eh?
