Sometimes I think I shouldn’t be allowed out alone.
Yesterday we had good cycling weather, so I cycled to the tiny tram stop at the edge of the valley to catch the tram down the hill. I’ve found this is far easier than dealing with the Scary Hill of Doom with impatient motorists first thing in the morning. The tram stop is hidden away in a quiet corner of the city, and comes complete with a convenient railing. I locked the bike to this (a bike rack would be preferred, but you can’t have everything), waited a few minutes, and got on the tram.
Leaving my cotton cap on the bench seat in the tram stop.
It wasn’t until I got off at the bottom of the hill that I noticed a distinct lack of headgear.
Fortunately the locals are too honest, or too wealthy* to be bothered with such things as a grubby hat, and ignored it for the seven hours it took me to come back and find it.
*Judging by the size of the houses, I suspect the latter.