My commute

I enjoy my commute. Sometimes I enjoy it a great deal, sometimes just a little bit, and sometimes just the very, very end when I hop off the bike and don't have to pedal any more. Still, I usually enjoy at least something about it.

On the way to work

At the moment, it consists of a 20 mile cycle ride between Portobello and Livingston. Depending on how I feel - and how late I am - it consists of some length of canal towpath and some length of road on either side. If I'm late, I'll tend to ride more on the road - it's faster and more direct. Otherwise, I'll pootle along the canal for a bit longer. Either way, it's a fairly pleasant ride.

I often see the same faces on the canal - one chap in particular I seem to see virtually every day. He has a very distinctive look - full-body waterproofs whatever the weather, and usually looks like he's not enjoying himself. I wonder if he's trying to treat the ride like a sauna, sweating out as much as possible and opening every pore in every nook and cranny before he arrives at wherever it is he's going.

There's also a youngish woman I see pretty frequently. She's on the small side, always wearing a high-vis and carrying a bag which looks like it weighs as much as her. She also looks like she's not enjoying herself. It makes me wonder if I look similarly miserable, in lycra I'm not entirely comfortable about, a little bit saddle sore, generally in a rush because I've not left enough time to get to work at a sensible pace.

Also on the way to work

Still, I enjoy it. The infrastructure - particularly the long-distance cycle paths - are better here in Edinburgh than they are in Yorkshire. They require you to dismount much, much less frequently, the surfaces are generally a bit more even, they actually go somewhere I want to go and a fairly direct, rather than frustratingly wiggly, and I've yet to encounter a section of path which has been closed with no indication of a diversion.

An hour and a half seems like a long time to spend to get to work in the morning. Whenever I describe the time I have to get out of bed in the morning, the bits of A-road I have to cycle on, and the time I get home in the evening to non-cyclists, I tend to get a look which falls somewhere between puzzlement and admiration. I try to explain that an hour and a half on a bike is both a commute - which would talk 45 minutes in a car - plus an hour and a half of exercise, and is therefore extremely time efficient, but I think I've yet to convince anyone that this is the smart option.

Still, I enjoy my commute.