Oxford hates bikes.
Up on the bike, on the road, it begins to rain, puddles from the last rainfall are stirred up, you drive through them, on your right a bus, only centimeters away, the bus-driver overtakes, drives slightly more to the left, so you can’t drive next to him anymore, he stops, you stop, you wait, in a puddle.
Riding your bike can be a pain in Oxford. Yes. But Oxford makes you yearn for this pain. Simply by depriving you from your bike.
Lunch at College, returning to the bike racks, spotting a bike next to yours, it’s new, it’s locked to yours, you are stuck. No way to get out of this other than waiting. The police won’t help and a locksmith will charge you 50 quid.
Today, dear bike I had to leave you behind. Oxford has seized you.