Up the Gumtree With My Turnip (and Christina Ricci)

One of those embarrassing secrets that anyone who's known me for any length of time will know is that I'm pretty much terrified of riding a bicycle. 

It probably doesn't help that I was never actually taught to ride as a child. Having been cursed with dyspraxia from an early age, my father soon gave up on returning me to the saddle after a very lengthy afternoon. As such, it wasn't until I was about eleven that I forced myself to learn. Many scraped knees later, I was somewhat more confident. It wasn't until my twenty first birthday, however, that my nightmarish fear surfaced.

Most people remember their 21st for the right reasons; doning their lashmina, hitting the lash point and getting so smashed that they can't even remember the moment when they actually received the key to the door. For the most part, I do remember my 21st positively, but it is clouded over by one of the most horrifying and scarring (literally) moments of my life. A group of us got together and went to Center Parcs (a woodland retreaty kind of a place) and had a wonderful weekend wavering between drunken barbecues, spa days and late night games of hide-and-seek in the forrest. Unfortunately, after a delightfully relaxing day at the spa, on the cycle back to the villa, I took a rather nasty (to put it lightly) tumble. Some makeshift sanitary towel bandages, a helluva lot of jelly beans and seven years later, I am still utterly terrified of getting back on a bike.

Manami, on the other hand, loves the damn things. So after six months of her bugging me to buy one, I decided to get some cash together and see what Gumtree had to offer.

Now, I've never used Gumtree before. It's like a localised eBay, but you actually go to the seller's house and make the transaction in person. Thus, as I made my way through the residential district of Bournemouth, armed only with a turnip (stew for dinner), I had a growing fear that I was going to find myself embroiled in some kind of Outback torture movie (anyone seen "The Loved Ones" by the way? Fantastic little Aussie indie horror film). Fortunately, as I found the address (well appointed semi- detached with a BMW parked on the drive) and was greeted by a charming gentleman, I realised with relief that my chances of spending the next week tied up in someone's basement were relatively slim.

After purchasing the bike for a very reasonable price (indeed, less than I had made busking that afternoon... Bournemouth folk are so very much more generous than their Northern counterparts!) I was stuck with a conundrum; push the bike back to the flat, or face my fears and ride the cursed thing. I decided to bite the bullet.

And so followed the most terrifying half an hour of my life...

I mounted the bike, and with trepidation by my side and Siri screaming directions in my ear, began to make my way through the woody cycle paths back to town. Twilight setting in, I began to peddle more furiously along the dark and uneven lanes, suddenly feeling like Ichabod Crane, the headless Horseman fast at my heels. Fearful that my turnip would suffer the same fate as the Horseman's pumpkin head. 

Thirty minutes later, breathless and quivering, I arrived back to the flat, alas not into the lustful arms of Christina Ricci, safe and for the most part sound. And so I learned three things today;

1. Gumtree is not full of serial killers,

2. Turnip is a cheap and tasty addition to stew, and

3. I'm still bloody terrified of bikes.

Oh, and Johnny Depp is one of the luckiest buggers alive.