(This journal entry isn't mirrored, because.... well it's a bit shit really)

You know how I normally like to write funny journals about pooh in swimming pools or spilling tuna salad on my jeans, well this one is less funny. On my way home from work yesterday I saw a guy face plant (badly) from his bike.

Part of my journey home from the office involves a walk up a really steep hill. If you're coming the other way on a bike it's possible to reach 30 to 40 miles per hour if you're feeling brave..... or stupid (yes, I've done it).

The road is always pretty busy, especially around the time I was walking up it. Office workers and South Africans are scurrying home to their ready-meals and biltong.

As I marched up the hill I happened to glance over the collection of passing cars and for a split second I snatched a glimpse of a cyclist's head. It was only the shortest of split-second glances before he was obscured by a passing red van, it was more like a freeze frame. He was wearing a helmet and looked fine for all intents and purposes, but as soon as the image flashed across my brain I instantly knew something was wrong about the snapshot, maybe it was his position or the angle his head was at, or maybe it was even his expression. I can't really remember because it all happened so quick.

But I did sense something was wrong and as soon as I passed the red van, the next thing I saw was people running towards the other side of the road covering their mouths and holding their heads in disbelief. Men, women, South Africans. I couldn't see the cyclist. Every time I looked around I saw another person approaching with a look of total concern and raw shock on their face. It's not every day you see people forget themselves like that and when you do it’s chilling. It's a bit like when a football player goes down seriously injured and straight away players from both teams just stop and forget their rivalry because they know something is up. Everyone was staring and goosebumps were starting to spread down my back. I decided to myself I wouldn't look because not only is it rude to stare but people were freaking out so badly I didn't necessarily want to see what was behind the cars.

Of course I looked.

By now the traffic was stationary and drivers were jumping out of their cars running towards the guy on the ground. On the opposite curb at least three people in the crowd were already on their mobile phones (presumably) calling the emergency services.

As my aggressively fast charge lost pace and turned into a tentative stride, the scene slowly revealed itself. The guy was face down on the road. His face was squashed against the tarmac. His body was concertinaed up behind his head. His limbs were contorted and his arms folder under him. His face was very red. He certainly wasn't moving. I couldn't see his bike for a few seconds. It turned out to be on my side of the road about seven or eight meters from him.

As I walked passed the scene gawping my heart rate shot up and my breathing became shallow. A couple of guys had stepped forward to take control of the situation. I had a lot of respect for them at that moment. No one was touching the cyclist of course. Over Mazy Star's dreamy voice on my headphones I could hear them shouting ‘CAN YOU HEAR ME?’ in the guy’s ear. There was no response.

I carried on walking so I don’t know what happened to him. I hope he is OK and he was just knocked out. It made me think how lucky I was to be able to go home and have my ready meal.




<sub>This week I recommend:
1. My new desk baby! (Journal to follow)
2. Plants
3. Tall buildings
This week I do not recommend:
1. Hip joints
2. Prawns</sub>