Fiona Campbell of Campbell Bowen Works is our favourite white witch. She doesn’t describe herself as a witch but we’ve both been to physios, chiropractors and faith healers to try and fix our various back problems to no avail – yet Fiona has managed to sort us both out and keeps us being able to walk erect – so we’re fairly sure she has dabble in the dark arts.
So when Fiona told Suzy one of the best holidays she’d had was a cycling holiday round Lake Constance and we should go – we had to go. One does not upset those who have the dark powers especially when they use their powers for good. Airmiles are exchanged for airline tickets and flights are booked from Glasgow to Zurich via Heathrow, the car is loaded and we are off to the airport…

“You know it feels like we’ve forgotten something.” Says Suzy.
“Yeah I thought that too, but I think it is because we packed last night so there wasn’t the rush this morning.” I say, with an air of smugness.
“You’ve definitely got all the bikes.”
“Packing and wrapping stuff.” Two of the bikes are wrapped in the boot, ready to be loaded onto the flight, but the third wouldn’t fit in the car so it is sitting fully assembled on the bike rack until we get to the airport, where I’ll break it down and wrap it.
“No.” I reply with a sinking feeling.
“Ha very funny.”
“I’m not joking I didn’t put it in the car, it’s in the garage.”
“Can we go back,” asks Suzy just as we join the queue of commuters at the top of the M77 on the outskirts of Glasgow.
“Not and catch the flight.”
So we sit in traffic and I contemplate how much my driving licence is worth. How fast could I get home if I ignored some of the less specific aspects of the Road Traffic Act. Like reversing on a motorway and driving as if I were both fast and furious. Would BA take my bike not in a bag? Could I rent one when I got there…

“What about your tels?” asks Suzy. (Our work is old fashioned, we don’t have an IT dept, we have a telecommunications dept, staffed exclusively by men with extraordinary beards.) I reach for the phone…

<ring ring>
“Stuart” (who is, as it turns out, a sporter of a truly extraordinary beard which he has allowed to grow for entirely economic reasons having once calculated how many years of his life he will save by not shaving), “it’s Pete. Can you find me a really big bag…”

So Stuart saves the day by finding us a plastic bag just big enough to take an Islabikes Luath 26 with the front wheel off. And some hours later we’re cycling to an airport hotel 2 km from Zurich airport…


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