Yes, we cyclists really are nasty

One morning a long time ago, when the Spectator offices were still in Bloomsbury, I hopped my bike up onto the kerb outside the new Pret a Manger on Theobalds Road, locked it to a post and went in. A man followed me, his face vacuum-packed with fury. He shouted: ‘No bikes on the PAVEMENT’, then he spat in my face. Not a soul moved. Only a few looked up from their contemplation of the sandwich calorie count. They thought, I suppose, I deserved it.

And since that day, I’ve defended my fellow bikers against any number of anti-cycle fanatics. We’re not innocent, I thought, but we’re undeserving of this terrible rage. We’re scapegoats.

Well, I’ve been wrong. For 15 years I’ve been wrong. After two months of using Mayor Boris Johnson’s newly completed east-west cycle superhighway I’ve realised that our detractors have a definite point. Cyclists are unusually unpleasant. We’re as vile as we’re made out to be — perhaps worse.