Does it often rain in Sheffield?

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Rainy night in Sheffield

I’m in Sheffield for a one-day work trip.  It’s cold and it’s raining.  Brrr.  Well, OK, if it’s raining it can’t be as cold as all that.  But I felt cold walking back from dinner.  Dinner, by the way, was at the Artisan restaurant; very nice meal and creme brulee so rich that without coffee it was almost lethal.  I’m sure if you’re not in a big group on a set menu, you can have coffee.

There was a choice between walking on to a pub and going in to my internet connection and bed.  I chose internet and bed.  I have to watch out not to have too much fun now that I’m old.

Oh, the irony

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Cycling keeps you healthy?  Not if you have to spend a lot of time behind this bus.  This is it accelerating after slowing down for the light.  The day before, I’d had the privilege of waiting behind it as it pulled away from a stop, when it emitted even more spectacular cyclist-choking plumes of smoke, before, to my relief, our paths diverged.  Unfortunately our paths rejoined a little later in the ride and it stopped in front of me again.

I made sure to have my camera in my pocket the next day, but the bus didn’t seem to have to stop anywhere, so I had to settle for this shot.  I sent the picture to the operator; they haven’t acknowledged it yet, but it’s only been one business day.

Chain lube from the sky

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Chainring

One of the best faces of this town comes out at night, when it’s raining.  The old colleges, manicured common spaces, and churches are gorgeous in the sun, but the place definitely never looks shinier than when it’s all wet and the lights are on.  In fact, once the puddles are well-established, the side of the road positively scintillates with droplets plinking into them.  Throw in a really hard downpour and oncoming headlights and the whole road sparkles.  Just have to watch out when you’re avoiding the puddles not to get in the way of the headlights.

If only I’d had my camera with me the other night, I’d have loved to take some pictures.

Even leaving the city centre, it was a pleasant ride.  Once you’re wet, you’re wet, and as long as you’re properly attired and generating enough heat, it’s not necessarily unpleasant to be wet when you’re on a bike.

Jeans do not count as proper attire for biking in heavy rain.  Oh, do they ever not count.  Once enough water has rolled off your jacket onto your thighs, jeans begin to bind, eventually becoming a sort of clammy denim straitjacket for the legs. And I know from experience that a dressy woollen pantsuit is much, much worse, especially if you are on your way to the occasion and not on the way home.  Have you ever smelled a really wet wool suit?  I have.  In fact, I have smelled two of them simultaneously, and so have another couple of dozen people we mostly didn’t know at a certain formal dinner.

Where was I?

Ah, yes.  If you’re dressed comfortably, being wet doesn’t have to ruin a ride.  That night, I was appropriately attired, the smell of the rain was springlike, and the temperature was mild.  The trip home felt invigorating and wholesome.

I think my chain may have had a hangover the next morning though.