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Later I rode to more distant shops via the new cycle lanes and paths for 15 miles.
Only one "special" car driver thought themselves entitled enough to park right across the cycle path today. Perhaps it was that [now] famous Danish actor? The one who used to stand in the middle of the road outside the city theater. Just in case a Hollywood producer thought his presence commanding enough for a lead role. It worked too! Though I wonder whether the Hollywood producer had to honk three times [as I did]. Just to get the "entitled" actor to step aside from his commanding performance. While simultaneously blocking the road.
Meanwhile, back on the cycle paths, I am left wondering how the law stands on removing private gravel moraines from public cycle paths. Several houses with adjoining drives were letting their gravel flow freely across the paths to the tune of many wheelbarrow loads. This has been going on for a couple of years and no attempt has been made by the [former] owners of the gravel, nor the council, to tidy it all up.
If I pulled up in my car, with the trailer attached, could I shovel up all this "decorative" gravel over-spill? It would only take a few hours working at a good pace. Similarly, a plant grower's field is still spilling lorry loads of sand across the cycle path into the newly laid road drains. Like gravel, I can always use a bit of sand on garden projects. I could call it negative desertification and perhaps get a Nobel Prize? You never know.
Perhaps I should get the car out and save myself a few quid? I'd have to be careful not to collect any of the hundreds of yards of 4" thick, farmer's mud laid neatly along the cycle paths, in case it is [really, really] toxic. The Head Gardener wouldn't like that at all. Not even if she could raise the lower garden levels by several meters almost completely free of charge. Naturally I wouldn't charge for my landscaping efforts once I got it all home. Hiring a digger [and driver] would only add to the cost.
One senile old git is still raking the decorative gravel from his [slightly narrowed] verge directly onto the cycle path. He uses a ride-on tractor in revenge for losing a foot wide strip of his priceless verge to the public cycle path. Since he still owns a vast acreage of land he obviously thinks himself fully entitled to be quite cross. He's obviously one of those Fynonions, whom the Copenhageners call "Special."
The new road drains still aren't working on the edge of the distant village. So any cyclists, without life jackets or water wings in their front baskets, have to swerve out into the traffic. Just to avoid the now permanent, unheated, open air, public, swimming pool. I'm still half expecting a water slide and high diving board to appear overnight. But expect council funds are too tight. What with the price of original Danish modern [hideous daubs] art and [uncomfortable] dead, Danish, architect designer furniture for their own swanky offices.
Talking of hard core: The village gutters [AKA: heavily rutted cycle lanes] are now heavily overflowing again with sand, gravel, compost, fallen trees and boulders. So that I am sorely tempted to tip off the National Museum about the very obvious, prehistoric, fossil bones sticking out at intervals.
Not that they will take any notice of an invandre [immigrant] on the [pidgin] phone. They will have to wait for a real [speeding] Dane to puncture on one of the fossil bones before they will send a field team out to do a proper dig. I must admit to being quite shocked that I don't see more metal detector enthusiasts working the high street debris in search of Viking artifacts. Perhaps the constantly speeding traffic puts them off? I know it would me.
Click on any image for an enlargement.
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