PAUL MILES

IS THERE EVEN SUCH A THING ANYMORE? I NOW live in rural Dorset, a place much like the English countryside I recall from visits, growing up in London in the 1970s. Back then, riders always waved to each other as they passed and if you ever saw a bike stranded at the roadside it was an unwritten obligation that you would stop and offer assistance, even if it amounted to little more than sympathetic noises and the proffering of a hairy sherbet lemon from the dark recesses of your pocket.

“I was appalled and ashamed