Of course I was coming back from a triathlon, so I had to take the bike out of the car to get to the spare wheel.
Then there were actual tears cried when …I turned around to see someone had taken my bike. It was gone. Completely. Absolutely no trace.
Fortunately. When I went into Wheelworx (where I’d been shopping) to see if they had cameras – I found my bike inside! Someone had spotted it, but missed my orange bum bent over my car, and had brought the bike inside.
So all good. Nearly. Rescue man broke another wheel stud, so now Blondie (car) and me, are loaded into a very big low loader…. and headed for my favourite garage.
Ashbourne Service Station here I come.