If someone’s not knife-criming you in the face then they’re voting in a buffoon to run the place presumably on the off chance he’ll do something funny. Which, as I’ve mentioned, is just mean.

And on top of that, it’s not the nicest off places to ride your bike either. Don’t believe me? Take a look at these bike-shed of horrors:

• Sometimes London can be busy and noisy and riding a bi-swicle can be fwitening.
• Sometimes the paths just turn into canals.
• There’s nowhere you can leave your bike without it being stolen – even under your bottom.

Actually, that last one sounds genuinely horrifying.

So to try and make the experience of riding a bike through the Hell on Earth that is London a little more enjoyable, some jolly lovely chaps (and/or chapesses) came up with the idea for Ding Day:

Ding Day 2009 - Boris Johnson gave it a ringing endorsement. A-huh. A-huh.

Yes, Ding Day. All over London on Wednesday, 9th September whenever a cyclist see a fellow cyclist they will give them a little ding-ding on their bell in the hope that, in the words of Ding Day’s organisers, they’ll be “creating a harmony around London’s cycling community”.

Which is all very laudable and on the whole “a good thing”. After all, one of the nicest things about cycling is the sense of belonging to a group. And I think we can all agree that when you’re out on your bike getting a “Hello”, a nod, or even just a raised hand over a brake hood from another rider is nice.

Which is why I can’t help feeling that this is all a sad reflection of what life living in London is really like – you have to organise a special day, have it endorsed by the Mayor – Boris Johnson says “…Ding Day is a welcome addition to spreading the word about the joys of cycling” - just to get cyclists to acknowledge another cyclist.

Whatever next? A special day to stop people hitting strangers about the face and neck with your D-Lock?

Anyway, Ding Day says that through its day full of ringing bells, it aims:

To create a fun experience for cyclists and locals in and around London, with the hope of creating more of a sense of community amongst fellow cyclists, including commuters, parents, children, basically any cyclist young or old. It’s free and open to everyone.

Yes, saying “Hello” to someone else is free and open to everyone. Marvellous, isn’t it? But a word of warning from poor-little Minette Marrin, before you get carried away and start ringing that bell all willy-nilly at strangers:

When I protested at one of these dicers-with-my-death by primly ringing my bell, he got off his bike and was so frighteningly nasty I didn’t dare touch the bell again.

Hmm, London is a mean city.