Live update from the Cycle Show 2006
Published by Halverde on 10/06/2006 at 15:12.
We didn't get sent free tickets, so we're not actually there. But we can pretend.
9.57am We're stood waiting outside, really regretting spending loads of money on getting the early train. And everyone is looking at us because we're covered in sweat from running through the city to get here on time. :((((
10.05am It's open! Later than expected. Someone stood on the back of our shoes and hurt our ankles, but we're so excited that the excrutiating pain has already dropped to a dull ache.
10.25am It's too busy. The only stand we can get near to is the Barclays one, and they're insistant that we take out a mortgage.
11.10am We found the bit that lets people test ride a mountain bike. We're too shy to have a go, but we're hanging around feigning indifference and taking photos so we can write something sarcastic about it later to make us feel superior.
11.43am Everybody in the cycle fashion show is a bell end.
12.15pm We're hungry, but going to the café means talking to the pretty girl behind the counter. We'll steal a Ginsters pasty from a service station on the way home instead.
12.34pm Found Johan Museeauw. We're not brave enough to ask him serious questions or have a friendly chat, and he just looks confused when we finally say "Why are you so good?" quite quietly. Everyone is looking at us like we're stupid, we can tell.
1.20pm David Duffield just rode past on a skateboard wearing a backwards baseball cap and shouting "cowabunga". We've realised that we must've left the camera outisde the café, so nobody will ever believe us that it happened.
1.50pm There's a trials riding section, to prove that people with baggy trousers are allowed to ride bikes too. We take a photograph of their captive audience: a bored looking man stood with his bemused daughter.
2.30pm Too many people. We leave the show and mission through London.
3.00pm Our train is delayed.
7.30pm We've arrived home in Liverpool, only to discover we're locked out of the house.
7.45pm But it's ok, because we can climb in through the bathroom window.
7.47pm We're watching cartoons and feeling sorry for ourselves and wishing we'd done something better with our lives than become mediocre writers for a rubbish website whose future prospects are, at best, successful integration into the PR-by-proxy world of English language cycling journalism.
7.48pm Having a bit of a cry.
To conclude:
Great show, full of wonderful people. We've got lots of bags and stickers and rubbish cotton caps to give away on the website. 7/10
Please send us free tickets next year
Pretty please. It's like payola, only you don't get the feeling of guilt because you know we're still going to write something nasty and sarcastic about it all.
9.57am We're stood waiting outside, really regretting spending loads of money on getting the early train. And everyone is looking at us because we're covered in sweat from running through the city to get here on time. :((((
10.05am It's open! Later than expected. Someone stood on the back of our shoes and hurt our ankles, but we're so excited that the excrutiating pain has already dropped to a dull ache.
10.25am It's too busy. The only stand we can get near to is the Barclays one, and they're insistant that we take out a mortgage.
11.10am We found the bit that lets people test ride a mountain bike. We're too shy to have a go, but we're hanging around feigning indifference and taking photos so we can write something sarcastic about it later to make us feel superior.
11.43am Everybody in the cycle fashion show is a bell end.
12.15pm We're hungry, but going to the café means talking to the pretty girl behind the counter. We'll steal a Ginsters pasty from a service station on the way home instead.
12.34pm Found Johan Museeauw. We're not brave enough to ask him serious questions or have a friendly chat, and he just looks confused when we finally say "Why are you so good?" quite quietly. Everyone is looking at us like we're stupid, we can tell.
1.20pm David Duffield just rode past on a skateboard wearing a backwards baseball cap and shouting "cowabunga". We've realised that we must've left the camera outisde the café, so nobody will ever believe us that it happened.
1.50pm There's a trials riding section, to prove that people with baggy trousers are allowed to ride bikes too. We take a photograph of their captive audience: a bored looking man stood with his bemused daughter.
2.30pm Too many people. We leave the show and mission through London.
3.00pm Our train is delayed.
7.30pm We've arrived home in Liverpool, only to discover we're locked out of the house.
7.45pm But it's ok, because we can climb in through the bathroom window.
7.47pm We're watching cartoons and feeling sorry for ourselves and wishing we'd done something better with our lives than become mediocre writers for a rubbish website whose future prospects are, at best, successful integration into the PR-by-proxy world of English language cycling journalism.
7.48pm Having a bit of a cry.
To conclude:
Great show, full of wonderful people. We've got lots of bags and stickers and rubbish cotton caps to give away on the website. 7/10
Please send us free tickets next year
Pretty please. It's like payola, only you don't get the feeling of guilt because you know we're still going to write something nasty and sarcastic about it all.
