Like a fish on a bike

I feel like I am tempting fate to say it.... but I am such a pro on a bike these days. Seriously, I love the cycling thing (although I still haven't worked up the guts to ride to work).


Everyone who comes to visit, gets a cycle tour of The Hague. I've got the hop-hop-swing start waxed. I've been known to take one hand (left OR right) off the handle bar to adjust my clothing, or balance something on the back of my bike.


I happily hop on the back of my boyfriend's bike if we've only got one bike to travel on, and I think... yes, I think... that I might be able to take someone on the back of my bike (although I haven't found anyone brave enough to try it yet).


You've got to understand.. this is big for me. This is the same person who wheeled their newly-purchased bike home and didn't get on it for two weeks. The same person who had to have a sneaky refresher course in cycling.


This weekend, Miss B came to visit and after our obligatory trip into Amsterdam's Red Light District - where she seemed truly shocked to see a "real, live hooker" - I took her on a bike tour of The Hague. And I was singing the praises of how easy it is to get around by bike. Me. Promoting biking tourism. Look at me, Ma... no hands!


Oh god, I hope this isn't tempting fate.


Moving swiftly on: the fat ginger goldfish seem to be doing well. Freaky (the near-death experience fish) has moments of insanity where he chooses to float to the surface and then attack the bottom of the fish bowl with a crash. I've heard of goldfish trying to jump out of their bowl, but ours is trying to burrow his way to freedom. He also manages to get himself wedged behind the filter on a fairly regular basis.


Does anyone know of a good fish-doctor? Because I think ours has suicidal tendencies.