Let me take you on a little ride down memory lane. It was 1992 and Mum and Dad were going to buy me a bike for Christmas. My grandparents knew just the place. Though they lived in Andover and we lived in Portsmouth, we often met them in Southampton to go shopping. Near to their favourite Italian restaurant was a huge bike shop. My mind was totally blown by the size and the choice of bikes there was there. If you wanted to try one, you just rode around the shop, between the many rows of different styles of bike. My brother and I tried all sorts, and though we weren’t supposed to, raced each other through the aisles. We both had a new bike for Christmas
I’m not great at making decisions at the best of times, but this was really hard. Everyone was giving suggestions and I’ve no idea how I made my final decision, but I suspect it may well have been based on colour.
I remember my Nan suggesting that I try these new folding bikes. Grandad told her that they would be no good as they had tiny wheels and that would be just way too difficult she commented about the people she saw every day where she worked and they seemed to fly along with the wheels going so fast. ‘Just an optical illusion’ my Grandad explained. I never tried one.
I ended up with a lovely maroon bike with three gears a removable basket and so began my youthful love of cycling. That bike was my road bike, my mountain bike, my stunt bike and my transport until I passed my driving test and forgot all about the two wheeled form of travel.
So whizz on more years than I’d like to admit and I’m lazily surfing through Facebook pages. I don’t tend to use it much these days, rarely posting anything but enjoying the memories section marking hobbies past. I somehow find myself looking at an advert from a group I signed up to a while ago. And there it was, the bike my Nan was suggesting all those many years ago. It was for sale, not too far away, in excellent condition and at a price just above what I sold my last bike for.
I’d had no intention of buying another bike, but I had been fascinated by the Brompton ever since I’d had a go on Jo’s and now I had a dilemma.
Having checked a few things with the seller, I started to organise a trip to go and view the bike. I asked Jo if she would come along too and the adventure started to unfold.
Tuesday morning rolled round very quickly. I’m not sure whether it was nerves, excitement or a combination of the two, but I hadn’t slept much at all. I decided to drive down to town and hopefully find a parking space within walking distance of the IOW ferry. I did - right on the pier - and was almost two hours early.
Jo had travelled down by train and was ready for the days adventure, our planned journey would mean a few new experiences for her too.
The Redjet, a fast catamaran service to the island now has purpose built bike carriers on one side. This is just perfect for cycle commuters and those of us who love taking our bikes everywhere. But Dora’s non standard size meant she didn’t fit the stand. She did sit happily alongside it, but looked quite lonely as we sailed across the Solent.
Once in Cowes, we walked up the high street following little green signs to a bus stop. At this point Dora was origami-ed into a large Ikea bag. The stop was hot and busy, as was the bus. But we had excellent seats close to the front, and the journey only cost £2.00.
Having said that, we were quite relieved to be getting off the hot, noisy bus. Dora jumped back into action like a giant transformer and the bag quickly disappeared from view into a cavernous bag on the front of the bike.
We found a handy cafe just up the road from where we were dropped. They were more than happy for Jo to wheel Dora in and put her under the table - another first for Jo.
This made lunch absolutely stress free as there was no concerns about having to lock the bike somewhere.
Having eaten a good lunch and spent a little time consulting Google maps, we opted for the 20 minute walk to Carrisbrook rather than a second bus ride. It was a nice day and we had plenty of time. The roads seemed quite familiar and we recalled our day trip to Carrisbrook Castle last year.
We arrived at the house, knocked the door and were greeted by two lovely children inviting us round to the back garden. The bike was carefully lifted out of the carry case that it had spent much of the last four years in and Jo explained how to unfold this metal origami puzzle,
I marvelled at how pristine the bike was. I am not sure it had ever been ridden.
Ilona explained that her Dad bought it just before lockdown with the idea that he would ride to the sea and back. But for one reason and another he never used it. Just like I had with Ava, they had decided that it was sad that it wasn’t being used and wanted it to go to a good home.
Ilona was happy for me to take it for a test ride. So after a couple of false starts trying to get air in the tyres, we went out for a quick spin up and down the road. To be honest, I had already made my decision. So having quickly checked that the gears changed and the brakes worked, I returned to the garden and said yes please.
The only thing stopping me now was a rather embarrassing 10 minute phone call with the fraud department of my bank. I am very glad that they were keeping an eye on my account, but I did almost feel like a criminal myself while I was being interrogated and goodness knows what the others thought of my answers to strange questions as we baked in the afternoon sun.
Finally the money was transferred and we sat for a little longer enjoying the quiet and tranquility of Ilona’s garden. But time was ticking and we had a ferry to catch and an exciting cycle ride to get there. Jo finished playing with the children, then somehow managed to squeeze the large carry bag and all the paperwork onto her rear rack and we bid our new friends farewell.
We were soon back in Newport, thankfully Jo had had the presence of mind to have pre-plotted a route. We quickly found the NCN23 back towards Cowes.
Jo asked me if the bike was to have a name. I had been considering that she was quite Ninja or transformer like, but they didn’t seem very fitting names for such a lovely bike.
We paused for thought (and some much needed water) by the river. Then inspired by my love of Scotland and our new friend’s Hungarian name, the bike was named
‘Iona Brompton’
We sped down the squirrel trail and were all too soon back at the ferry terminal. Iona was just perfect. My Nan would have been so pleased to see those little wheels whizzing round and us flying along the path. I’m sure she had a hand in this purchase.
Jo again guided me in the origami moves enabling Iona to stand on her own four wheels while we waited for the next boat.
I just kept staring at the bike with a big grin on my face, not quite believing that I own a Brompton.
Both bikes stood quite happily in the racks of the catamaran as we flew back to Southampton.
Jo patiently talked me through how to fold the bike once more, before the Brompton neatly slipped behind the drivers seat. I drove home realising that I was still wearing a ridiculous grin.
One thing I had noticed from the original Facebook photos of the bike, was that there was no way to carry anything.I had taken with me a rucksack and a small handlebar bag to carry keys and phone for the journey back. I also preemptively ordered a front block to allow me to add any Brompton bag to the front. It arrived the very next morning. ‘Brilliant bikes’ really do live up to their name. I watched their install video and after spending a little while practicing some folding and unfolding technics, I fitted the block.
That was easy! What next? Well the other issue with the ride home was there was nowhere to put my Garmin. Though this wouldn’t be hugely important for most trips, following a route that I didn’t know, would be very difficult. Jo had found an attachment to her stem that was designed to take such devices. I surfed and found one that again arrived very quickly and was easy to install.
That was really easy too. So all that I needed now was a bag for the front and a rack for the back. I quickly realised that it wouldn’t be easy to choose a bag without actually seeing them.
So after contacting my local bike shops to see if they stocked anything, I messaged Jo again and we headed up the M3 to Sunningdale and the Brilliant Bikes HQ.
We met Hannah, the star of their hilarious videos and had lots of really useful advice from the team. I picked up a lovely new bag. some inner tubes and a rear rack to be fitted later. I could have spent a fortune!
So in less than a week since I sold my other bike, I now have a beautiful Brompton - Iona. I can’t wait to see what adventures await.
A huge thank you to Ilona and her dad, for offering the bike to me. I will look after her I promise.
Thank you Jo for all your help, advice and company, decisions are always easier when you have someone to bounce your ideas off.
And a huge thank you to my Nan for sowing that seed all those years ago, and no doubt having a hand in this purchase too.
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