I was looking at these photos today and trying to think why on earth I took them in the first place. What was it about these people that caught my eye?
With this bloke, I eventually worked out that I was intrigued by the upturned handlebar extensions. Not sure how those are supposed to work.
This one is easy - it shows part of a train of cyclists crossing the Pyrmont Bridge. One of the tricks that newbie commuters have to learn is the idea of getting into single file with complete strangers. The default mental condition for pedestrians crossing this bridge is for them to walk around aimlessly, changing direction without warning at the drop of a hat. In order to cut through the clutter, cyclists gather together in a train (or a snake) and play follow the leader. Woe to the pedestrian that decides to try and cut across the train whilst looking at their iPod and trying to find a better song.
The driver of this car came flying up behind me and then cut rudely in front of me about 10 feet short of the lights. I looked in the back window, and to my surprise, the driver was closer to 90 than 19. Lots of grey hair and wrinkles. When the light when green, they took off on the edge of burning rubber. I've been menaced by absent minded grannies before, but never cut up by a speeding bogan grannie.
Ah, my favourite variety of P-plate teenager. He's got an old Toyota Seca that lacks sufficient grunt to pull the skin off a fresh custard, but he's still removed all the identifying badges so that we might think he's driving a Shelby Cobra. The bog-standard grannie exhaust has been replaced by something the diameter of a space shuttle rocket booster. I love it when these pathetic lawn mowers take off at the lights - they launch like a one cylinder soviet tractor running on rancid sunflower oil. TWX 666 - you are the "knob of the week".