Mezzo Bikes

Back at work. Glory of bike fully realised. No sweaty tube for me. Bike in car crack of dawn and then onto train at Gloucester. First unsolicited bike conversation of the day. “you’ve got a folding bike, what a great idea. Oh look at that, isn’t it clever” I smiled and patted it like a proud parent then moved off swiftly for fear of a two hour inquisition when I really wanted to read the paper. Unsociable I appreciate but it was quite early and there’s always the risk of being stuck with a nutter.

Off at Paddington and the rehearsals at home bear fruit as I swing the bike into action like an old pro. Off to Westminster across Hyde Park and past Buckingham Palace. The upright seating style allows good all round vision and a rather imperious flourish to hand signals. I felt I commanded the traffic as I hard righted with outstretched arm and benevolently waved or thumbed up at cars, taxis and even buses that let me out.

From Westminster back to Hyde Park for lunch. Can’t do that on the tube. Without thinking I had bought a cup of soup, thankfully with lid and little brown bag. It was either the marvellous balance of the bike or the magnificence of my riding – I leave you to decide – but soup hung off the handlebars without spilling a drop.

I sat basking in the summer sunshine and the admiring glances of American tourists as I polished off my soup. Cue several more conversations about the bike from charming family and also bizarrely from teenage skateboarders. I conceded that possibly I couldn’t, and certainly in business wear I wouldn’t, negotiate their orange cone slalom course.

Matter of moments to my meeting at the Science Museum, followed by meeting at Imperial College. At Museum bike came in with me, at IC stayed chained outside with a million student bikes and one rather shabby Brompton.

Discover post meeting shabby Brompton belongs to fellow at meeting, all attendees (en route to pub) try both bikes. On straw poll of eminent academics and surgeons I can say that functionally and aesthetically my Mezzo won 5-0. If translated to tries and conversions that would be 35-0 any my how it deserved it. Final flourish came post pub (one small white wine only) when I would certainly have

missed my train by public transport and even by taxi. I sailed at speed through the park and got onto my train with seconds to spare. No bloody seats for me but happy space for the bike.

Off to Twickenham today for London Double Header then Women’s Rugby World Cup final tomorrow – go girls – ho ho bongo traffic queues and train shuffle. I’m whizzing between stadiums/stadia depending on your command of Latin on the Mezzo.

Jury’s out on this one. The new red accoutrement dangling under the saddle seems a necessary evil. Here in the sticks the only things that get nicked are land rovers and stock trailers, oh and chainsaws and stuff like that. In the big smoke bikes disappear. Pouf! Just like that.

Security system number uno is taking the bike with you which is where a folder has a huge advantage over anything else. Failing that I know I must occasionally leave my precious bike locked up outside.

The addition of anything to the beautiful design of the Mezzo is unappealing but the likelihood of forgetting to take a chain with me is greater than my aesthetic malaise. As an England Rugby girl I was vaguely suspicious of the overtly Italian livery so the addition of a splash of red to the blue and white has given a small sense of satisfaction.

Here’s the dilemma: one Land Rover, one canoe, one dog, one boy, one stretch of river. We are camping upstream and need to be 10 miles downstream at the rowing club for an evening training session. Wafting along with husband, boy, picnic and dog on a sunny afternoon troubles only the salmon and the swans. Four gruelling hours in the dark hauling ourselves back upstream after a serious training session troubles me greatly.

They say that for every endeavour to work well one needs brains and legs. Thankfully my husband possesses both.

Thus: Mezzo in Land Rover alongside labrador, humans and kit. Canoe on top. Deposit all bar the Mezzo at the campsite, wife sets up camp, boy and dog cavort around helpfully. Husband drives Landy to rowing club, hops on Mezzo and cycles back to camp. Hoorah. Now we can canoe down, drive back and (added bonus) get to the pub in time for necessary refreshment.

Boys the world over are incapable of seeing a bike, of whatever hue, without feeling the need to ride it without hands, and to pop a wheelie. The Mezzo having served its functional purpose impeccably became the plaything of the campsite. Its still in one piece, heaven knows how.

My husband is ferociously jealous….

In our household he is the bike nut, I just like riding around. He knows about tyre pressures, and spanners and things.

I expressed my joy at the beauty of the bike this morning as I tested it on the rather lumpy (actually very steep) hills of Herefordshire, and the bumpy (potholes remaining from winter freeze) roads; but then had a bit of a worry about what on earth I would do if I had a puncture. The manual looks terrifying in this regard, and definitely involves spanners. On inspection the tyres have KEVLAR in them – this makes them more advanced than my car, or indeed anything I own.

And it is curvy and beautiful. Not dissimilar to myself i hazarded to suggest. Just younger and unblemished said the unkind husband.

I knew then that he was a little teeny weeny bit envious. Initially he had been kind and supportive and interested – in a ‘thats your hobby’ sort of a way. Helping me put it up and down, handing me my bike hat, watching from the front door as I turned circles between pub and church (we’re well catered for on a Sunday). Then demonstrated his superiority by getting his BIG pump – as in you have to stand on it and it has a hose that would reach 16 wheels on an HGV – and checked my tyre pressures (they were bang on). Then I offered, extremely generously I felt, to let him have a go. He is 6’4’’ and even after going on a diet over 14 stone. His bottom was once mistaken for Martin Johnson’s – so imagine that if you can on a bicycle saddle. Rather insultingly he said that he didn’t really want to because the last small wheeler he’d been on had handled horribly. I won’t mention the extremely illustrious make.

I made him. For the sake of marital harmony off he set feeling like a ninny but looking rather stylish. Upon returning the aforementioned insult to my age and general wear and tear was forthcoming and I knew the bike had won the day… He’s a Quaker my husband, well we both are, that means we’re not allowed to tell lies. So I pressed him on the ride and handling and he grudgingly admitted that he actually rather enjoyed it, in face he thought it was pretty good, actually very good, surprisingly good.

We may not be allowed to lie, but I haven’t found a restriction on crowing in the handbook. It’s mine I said reverting to childhood. Get off.

Sally

Many thanks to Sally Pettipher, Director of the Rugby Football Foundation at the RFU Twickenham for agreeing to ride the Mezzo D9 Curve on her commute. Sally is an avid cyclist who rides MTB and road bikes but has never experienced the travel solutions and practicalities of a folding bike.

Follow her adventures as she cycles across London for meetings, through the lanes of Herefordshire to the pub and following the tow path to the rowing club.

Happy Cycling.

Come along and see the all new Curve at Bike Radar Live.

http://www.bikeradar.com/news/article/mezzo-unveil-new-d-9-folding-bike-26836

Riding the D9 Curve around several cycling press offices was a great deal of fun. Keep an eye out for the reviews and features soon………..

Ideal for city living, the D9 offers endless travel and storage solutions. My day, which is typical of a Mezzo day included the following; fold bike and place in boot of car, unfold bike and ride to my office, fold bike and place under my desk, unfold bike and head to meetings, fold bike and place in lift, unfold bike for presentation, fold bike and place under table, unfold bike and ride back to my office and repeat five times……all with consummate ease.

What a work horse. Form and function in a perfect package.

Next stop………………………….