A Ö÷²¥´óÐã Spokes Man
No need for alarm...that was just me on the bike this morning, hurtling through the streets of Inverness with the wind whistling through the vents on my helmet. Officially I was meant to be working from home, but I had to go into the office to collect some documents and, well, the place is now a demolition site and I wont bore you with the parking problems. Grace O'Donnell, one of our receptionists, greeted me with a packet of mail and the offer of oxygen.
Inverness is a fairly decent place for cyclists, especially where the city is expanding to the south and wider pavements have been created to allow for bikes. I was out that way on Friday, visiting my dentist and boasting to him about my new fitness regime. I told him that I had lost five pounds in a week and no longer intended to dedicate my remaining teeth to Thornton's toffee. He nodded in a way that suggested he almost believed me.
Let's face it - if I was lying through my back teeth, he'd be able to tell.
