My lovely sister, about whom I wrote in my last post, has been visiting my mother. We met for a early lunch date and a short Brompton ride.
She, of course, had seen more Bromptons than I have, living in Belgium, but she had not ever ridden one. Having two, we parked outside of the city and rode along the Creek Walk path to lunch. The weather had been threatening rain all morning, and just as soon as we pushed off, it started to sprinkle. New York weather mimicking a Belgian winter.
After a short ride, we found the pub where we would have lunch. They had kindly (and unintentionally) kept a table free for us!
We neatly tucked the Bromptons behind the table...
and I tried to no avail to find a pint of beer that could compare with those my sister usually gets in Belgium. All of the American Belgian styles were gone on the day we visited. We did find a great cheese and charcuterie plate and friendly people with whom to talk.
The rain started in earnest while we sat there, so we spent a great couple of hours talking and laughing. On our ride back to the car, my sister pointed out how useful it would be for her to have a Brompton. She rides the train 20 minutes then takes a bus another 30 minutes to her work. She thought that if she had a nice folding bicycle, she could get off the train a stop or two sooner and ride the last 20 minutes to work, saving herself time and getting in some exercise. And, she said, if it rained on either end and she didn't want to ride, she could just take her bicycle on the bus anyway. I wisely nodded my head in agreement. I'll let her think it's all her own idea.
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