Once in a while, you experience this. A special intersection of having drunk a bit of good liquor, smoked a bit of something smooth and eaten enough to feel pleasantly full. It's just past midnight and the free-flowing, lighthearted conversations have trickled down to soft murmurs. Pieces of wood crackle in the fire while ashes drift away slowly into the night sky. Everyone is yearning to get home but no one wants to shatter the delicate reverie and leave. Eventually you do. After navigating a few gentle, not unexpected barbs about still using the bike, you watch cars drive away, wheels gently crunching stray pebbles. You then get the helmet on and ride. At a steady 40 kmph, the breeze is brisk and refreshing. With no traffic on the road the ride is meditative, streetlights rhythmically letting you move between light and shadow. You feel a twinge... pleasure, nostalgia or perhaps a bit of both. A week's worth of doing nothing much in particular - you could get used t...