One of the delights of living in a car city, is the absence of pedestrians or other cyclists on the protected side of the parked cars. I doubt it would be so quick bringing groceries home if we lived in some place like Holland, will all those confounding cyclists taking up space on the bike path. So when my Primrose tells me I don’t have time to be taking photos, that our prawns with thaw and poison us all when we go to eat them, and that I am retarded, I say, “relax my dear, for we live in Australia, where the footpaths are ours and ours alone.”
Now a box bike overloaded with groceries, with an eight year old on the rear rack, does gather quite some momentum, I really must tell you. Plus the sound of it trundling along does tend to make the occasional pedestrian one might encounter, jump onto the road to get clear: at least over there, the cars have some chance of braking. All for you, my dear Primrose, and for our prawns. This load of groceries just went from one end of town to the other as far any kind of vehicle could have dispatched them.