Three young club riders pass by, heading for the coast. Heads down, pressing on, the lad on the back just starting to lose the wheel. They remind me of the illustrious, illusionary Troon Velo club of my own youth: a club that existed only in the fevered imaginations of the members but no less (and indeed perhaps more) important for that.
Out for an afternoon habble, strong friendships no barrier to the desire to make your soul mates suffer. Such things are timeless.