Kranji, 52 km. Seven elderly gents are out in their Sunday best on the road, one on a mountain bike, the others on road bikes with 1-inch tubing. They are dressed in bermudas, complete with belts. One of them has a silver thermos flask in his bottle cage. Six youths are out on their BMX, dressed in jeans on the pavement. Here and there, is a solitary roadie. It is a pleasant ride, until I'm a housing estate where a demented driver swerves into my lane multiple times within a few hundred metres. He looks back to glare at those he considers to have transgressed, oblivious to what he's doing. The last I see of him, he is gesticulating at a pedestrian crossing a driveway.
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