Gimme Moore
“Daddy, are you going to dress up like Tim Moore for World Book Day?” I’ve spent much of the year reading and re-reading the many tales of one of cycling’s most popular writers, so much so that my children (and partner) think it’s time I sport a daft period outfit, apply some Savlon and board a battered bike for a European cycling odyssey.
From my sofa, I’ve been transported to a Pro Plusaddled Tour de France route in the London writer’s cycling debut French Revolutions, looked on with awe and fear as Moore attempts to ride the infamous 1914 Giro d’Italia on a bike with wooden wheels and prosecco cork brake pads in Gironimo!, and erased my fingernails as he tackles a Finnish midwinter, carefree Russian drivers and the 9,000km Iron Curtain on a MIFA East German shopping bike in The Cyclist Who Went Out in the Cold.
I’m now in the more welcoming surroundings of Tim’s Chiswick dining room as he finishes penning a feature on the mysterious Havana Syndrome (“pretty implausible!”) for a broadsheet newspaper. Once submitted, we hit the 58-year-old’s local Thames cycle path (naturally on the aforementioned MIFA communist bike) to discuss his European travails on two wheels and his latest tome, Vuelta Skelter, which is out this July in paperback in the UK.
Happily, Vuelta Skelter rivals his Iron Curtain misadventure as his best cycling book yet. The mixture of the hilarious and the harrowing really shouldn’t work but, in the hands of a writer as skilled as Moore, it deftly combines his trademark mischievous wit and a love of cycling as a mode of exploration with
