Posh Frocks

Wearing a cassock on a bike is pretty difficult. Wearing a suit is not the best either. It ends up crumpled and oil-stained. So tonight I have to get to the Mayor’s reception at Longleat House. And to make suit wearing worse, rain is forecast.

I shall go on the Pashley which will add a touch of two-wheeled class.

I did once turn up to see the Pope on my Brompton. The previous one, not Pope Francis. The present one would probably jump on his Bianchi for a ride round the Piazza.

Arriving on a Brompton did cause some consternation. If it had been a Mercedes with darkened windows it would have been easier. But the welcoming committee weren’t sure whether to take me seriously. They were deeply uneasy when I tried to chain my folded bike to some nearby railings.

OK. More green credentials down the pan. Yes, I flew to Rome. But I did brave the capital’s notorious traffic defiantly on the Brompton.

And I did cycle all the way to Rome once, all 1200 miles.

We followed the route of Archbishop Sigeric who in 990AD left a record of his route from Canterbury to Rome. When I moved to Wiltshire I was delighted to find that Sigeric had previously been Bishop of Ramsbury.

I don’t think he cycled in 990. But he probably didn’t have to wear a dark grey suit either.


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