There's so much still I want to write about this city.

How it is a huge jigsaw puzzle of cycling routes. And how an unusual journey (Whitechappel to Bloomsbury, middle of the day) brings together different pieces of the puzzle, suddenly they sit together, suddenly they match. Old Street to Southwark Bridge flips three times and guess what, it's there next to Liverpool St. to the Barbican! North/South, East/West, the pieaces click, loudly: a cry of joy from my lips.

Cycling is a journey, not just on the city's maps, but through memories. A restaurant called Arabella takes me to the only Pinter play I ever saw - No Man's Land - four years ago: "Are you trying to tell me you had an affair with Arabella?". Cycling is a journey through urban change (the ongoing gentrification of the East End, another street corner claimed for progress); a journey through capital and poverty; a journey through all the posts I meant to write and never managed to.