Chorus of disapproval for bike iPod speaker

BikeRadar carried a news item yesterday about a bike-friendly iPod speaker that sits in your bottle cage (right). The idea of a bike speaker isn't new, of course – I posted about a handlebar-mounted system in May. We've heard nothing about it since.

Most cyclists seem to hate the idea of bike-mounted speakers, if the comments on the BikeRadar item are a fair indication.

But it did get me wondering, again, about bike-related music. Here are a few suggestions. No doubt you can do just as badly; browse Socrata's list of Top 1000 songs for inspiration...

Diamond frames are forever
Ain't no mountain bike high enough
I want to hold your handlebar
Hey! You've gotta hide your gloves away
Penny cycle lane
Not good vibrations
Let's twistgrip again
Should I stay or should I go? Oh, it's only a red light
Itchycoo cycle park
Big yellow taxi blocking my cycle lane
Papa's got a brand new barbag
That'll be the Dahon
Message in a bottle cage

Copenhagen vs London 5: Bikes of a different colour

Copenhagen is a superb city for real cycling – for getting from A to B on two wheels. In fact, most Copenhageners say they cycle because it's quick and easy, not for environmental or health reasons (though they're pleasing by-products). That happens to reflect my view, too.


The Danish capital will be in the media spotlight from 7-15 December when it hosts the Climate Change Talking Shop, so look out for more articles like this one in the Independent recently in praise of the city's well-developed cycling culture.


Very pleasing, to me, is the dominance of real bikes and real clothes. Lycra, reflective gear and helmets are definitely the exceptions; most people just cycle in their normal stuff.

And if you go into a bike shop, you find a very different range of machines on sale to those you'd see in London.


In an Evans or Halfords over here, there are only rows and rows of MTBs or featherweight road bikes; you'll look long and hard for anything with mudguards, or a rack or basket, essentials for city shuttling. It's as ludicrous as going to a car showroom in search of a little hatchback to run around town and being told they only sell sports cars or 4x4s.

The bike shop in Christianshavn (right) shows the Copenhagen style: just about every bike I could see on sale was a real bike, with mudguards, rack or basket, upright riding position, and practical additions such as chainguards.


That's the pattern of machine you see jamming the bike parks round the city, such as this one (right) outside the main rail station.


But Copenhagen's bikes could fill a book by themselves. I'm fond of the bright and simple appearance of the self-coloured models you see parked around the city - a small selection is here.

Whoever owns the luminous Pedersen on the right is unlikely to struggle finding it on their way home from their evening out.

Copenhagen vs London 4: Not waving but turning

Copenhagen's cyclists have a hand signal I'd not seen before. It consists of raising one hand level with the head, the palm flat and facing outwards, as if acknowledging a friend (right).

At first you think people are just being sociable and waving to each other, but then you realise it's a hand signal with a specific purpose. It seems to mean 'I'm turning left, but not yet'.

Turning left involves crossing an oncoming stream of traffic, because in Denmark traffic drives on the right, instead of London where traffic drives around the Thames Water roadworks. At some junctions, though, you're not supposed to turn left by waiting in the middle (which you would sign in the normal way by sticking your left arm straight out).


Instead, you join the head of the queue of cyclists coming perpendicularly across you from your right, and wait for the signal to go straight on. To show that you're going to do this, you do the Copenhagen Wave, like the two lasses in these pictures.

Of course, we have several hand signals in frequent use in London which aren't in the Highway Code, but I don't propose to illustrate them.

Copenhagen vs London 3: Cargo? Don't go by car

Cargo bikes are a much more common site in Copenhagen than in London.

Denmark's postal service for instance is keener on delivering mail by bike than Britain's Royal Mail, which is discouraging the use of bicycles. (And, in the current round of strikes, the use of their own service altogether - though as Bike Radar reports, cycle couriers are apparently benefiting from the industrial action.)


That Copenhagen postie was snapped in the historic area of Nyboder (right), where every ochre-coloured house seems to have a bike outside. Evidently they didn't build new residential blocks with bike parking in the 1630s, a tradition still favoured by developers in Southwark.


In London, about the only thing you see transported by cargo bike is sandwiches (usually by the Darwins Deli chain). On the South Bank in summer, though, you do occasionally see the odd beer vending or Tourist Information bike.


Things in Copenhagen are on a grander scale, and you see plenty of practical transport solutions like the ones above. I doubt the limo-length fruit'n'veg wagon on the right would cope well with London's tortuous and cramped cycle lanes though.

Copenhagen vs London 2: Cycle Superhighways

London's forthcoming cycle superhighways are clearly inspired, at least in part, by Copenhagen's splendid cycle lanes. They will incorporate many of their features.

On the right is a short section of blue lane in the Danish capital, just in front of the main square. They use these blue strips to mark out cycling territory at junctions and suchlike. They're wide, straight, and marked with cycle symbols big enough to be seen from Google Earth.


When the first of London's two superhighway routes arrive next year (Wimbledon to Bank, Barking to Tower Hill), we can look forward to this kind of cycle facility, eagerly anticipated by many bloggers.

Not as regards the width, obviously. Or the priority over traffic. Or the straightness and smooth corners.

The cycle symbols will be quite a bit smaller too. And our lanes might disappear a bit here and there where some cars or motorbikes need to be parked, or some rubbish needs to be left.


Indeed, you'll notice that, in the recent YouTube video helpfully posted by TfL about the superhighways, the emphasis is gradually being shifted away from words such as 'wide', 'useful', or 'safe', and more towards concepts like 'clearly signed'. And 'blue'.

So don't worry! We'll beat Copenhagen where it really counts. Our cycle superhighways will be EVEN BLUER than theirs!

Ours will be painted in a special shade of azure, designed in conjunction with leading experts in hue and saturation. They will be cooler and trendier and more ultramarine than anything those socialist old bacon-slicers can come up with!


In fact, London's cycle superhighways will look very much like these three on the right.

Hah! Take that, Aksel! Eat cobalt, Frederik! Stick that indigo in your pecan pastry, Jeppe!*



*Note for the dozier readers of the Guardian blog: this is satire, meant not to incite ridicule against the Danes, but to expose the folly of London's poor cycle facilities. Just in case you were thinking of running a cartoon campaign or something.

Copenhagen vs London 1: Broadly speaking

Copenhagen is a model cycling capital, as readers of the excellent Copenhagenize blog will be aware. I was there last month, and this week I'll be making a few comparisons between there and London.

The first thing that strikes you as you stroll out from Copenhagen railway station into the city centre is the sheer amount of cyclists. Billions and billions of them. (In London, by contrast, the first thing that strikes you will most likely be from the side.)

To London eyes, Copenhagen's cycle lanes seem oceanic in their width. Even with the generous acreage of the bike lane above right (it's Torvegade, just over Knippelsbro in Christianshavn) there's still space for a separate bus lane as well as one for motor traffic.


But compare that with a London bike lane in a broadly similar location (it's Nine Elms Lane, just over Vauxhall Bridge in Wandsworth). The keen eye may spot a subtle few differences between the two. No wonder the lone cyclist here has taken the safe option of the road instead of the 'facility'.

Then note that 36% of Copenhagen's inhabitants cycle to work or education every day, compared to a figure for central London that's more like 3%. (Of course, this could be just coincidence, like evolution or gravity.)


Many of Copenhagen's lanes are wide enough for several bikes; even for a couple of Christianias (right), those cargo bikes whose front boxes could accommodate the average London studio flat. You see Christianias in London, but they're rare.

Now, sure, many of Copenhagen's grand central boulevards happen to be wide enough to accommodate big lanes; many of London's pokey and narrow 'main roads' are not. But even where there is space, such as Nine Elms Lane above, most of it is turned over to cars; any 'cycle lane' will be thinner than a Dan Brown plot.


Even in the rain, most of the Danes seem to be smiling (right). Evidently a 50%-plus rate of income tax and lager at six quid a pint doesn't affect their quality of life too adversely. And they all seem to be wearing normal clothes too (presumably bought from M&S on their last trip to London for half the price they are at home).

A London cyclist posse at the lights will have a few smilers too, but most people will be wearing fluorescent jackets and helmets, turning the ASL into a giant lemon-sorbet sweet trolley.

People talk about Copenhagen as the 'world's most liveable capital', but not everything is perfect. London's nocturnal wail of police sirens and thudding of helicopters, for example, is almost totally absent in the Danish city. That made it very difficult for me to sleep there. I lay awake worried who was catching all the criminals.

Wales and gnashes teeth: the epic hills of Abergwesyn Pass

The Abergwesyn Pass (all pics), which bucks and rolls twenty miles between Abergwesyn and Tregaron across a remote part of mid-Wales, is one of the most scenic and spectacular roads in England and Wales.

The single-track tarmac filament surfs the massive mountain breakers of Elenydd, a virtually uninhabited upland expanse slashed by lush quiet valleys.


Last Monday was perfect weather for one of the country's most knackering cycle rides, sunny and dry but not hot. The three-hour traverse includes three big climbs totalling 600m (the easternmost being the infamous Devil's Staircase). They're counterweighted by similarly precipitous roller-coaster downhills, the final catapult west into Tregaron being particularly enjoyable.

You have the road virtually to yourself - especially because, at the moment, a bridge in the middle north of Dolgoch hostel is being replaced, making the central few miles closed to traffic (which is diverted a long way round via Soar y Mynydd). You can wheel your bike across a temporary footbridge though.


Rail access is relatively convenient, though not for anyone in a hurry: you can get to Llanwrtyd Wells station on the Swansea-Shropshire line, from where it's a flat valley-floor trundle to Abergwesyn.

There are two hostels in Elenydd, both basic and remote bunkhouses accessible via very rough tracks: Dolgoch (currently closed for refurb) and Tyncornel.

If you want to get away from it all on your bike and stay on tarmac, there's no better place south of Gretna Green. Back in London, within ten seconds of cycling away from Paddington, I'd already had a close encounter with a taxi. I hope he doesn't understand Welsh.