Today sees the rollout of seven fixed fines of €40 for cyclists breaking a range of offences in Ireland. These offences include breaking red lights, cycling in pedestrainised areas and having no front or rear lights when cycling in the dark. These fines mark the continuation by the government to force cyclists into better obeying the rules of the road. They come after years of cyclist bashing from members of the Irish media and the public alike at a time when exaggerated claims of the sins of cyclists are often accompanied by "Sure I have a bike in the shed myself".

Source: Department of Transport - www.dttas.ie

Some questions spring to my mind as I envisage George Hook laughing gleefully at these new measures. Firstly, how fair are these new fines and offences to cyclists? It's good to want to make cyclists stop at lights and remain visible in the night but what constitutes reasonable consideration? Does reasonable consideration mean risking injury to yourself because of the snooty pedestrian pushing their buggy down the dead-end cycle-lane? Does it mean allowing the road-raging motorist at the roundabout barrel past you with no regard to your safety or right of way? Is it reasonable consideration to assume that motorists not using their indicators are in the right to do so? No, what it means is that any member of An Garda Síochána can pull you up and fine you €40 because they perceive you're not being reasonably considerate. Nothing to worry about there then! It's not as if there was ever any injustice carried out by that cadre.

When can we expect tighter controls to be placed on pedestrians who choose to use cycle lanes as their personal jogging/dog-walking/buggy tracks and motorists who think it's ok to use them as parking spaces?

Secondly, where is the support for the cyclist from the government and RSA? Surely, we want to be promoting this green form of transport more, not denigrating cyclists to second-class road-users and painting them as the scourge of the modern road. Why do we still have countless cycle lanes that either make no sense or end abruptly at the most inopportune of times? When can we expect tighter controls to be placed on pedestrians who choose to use cycle lanes as their personal jogging/dog-walking/buggy tracks and motorists who think it's ok to use them as parking spaces?

It seems to me, being a lowly, degenerate cyclist that the powers that be have focused on a minority of urban cyclists seldom found outside the confines of large cities such as Dublin and Cork and chosen to tar all of us with the same brush, with no proper consideration for the needs of the modern cyclist, the sins of the modern motorist and the roads that we are all supposed to share.

These seven fines are just the first to be rolled-out from a collection of 36 new offences that cyclists will face. Hopefully, and with any luck, the complete roll-out will be accompanied by a balancing of the scales and a more reasonable, level-headed discussion on how road-users, be they cyclist, motorist or pedestrian, can better get along.

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This is Part Two of a three-part short story. Be sure to read Part One first! If you want to read more, check out Part Three.

They ran faster than they had before, the threat of the hounds now real at their backs. At times, the cry of the dogs sounded louder, then they would be but a brief utterance in the bellowing thunder, the roaring wind, and the lashing rain. After a time, the baying hounds were out of earshot and the young couple began to slow. They were utterly unrecognizable now as the tailor's boy and baron's daughter that they had begun the night as. Scratches and bruises covered their arms, legs and faces. Their clothes now barely hung on by a thread and their hair was a matted, muddy mess.

As they continued on, the forest began to open out and soon they came to a place where large boulders began to replace the trees. One boulder lay at an angle, large enough that crawling under it would grant them some break from the storm. Calder walked over to it, Ainé's limp wrist in his hand and she in tow with plodding steps.

'Here' he said, beckoning her towards the sparce shelter. 'At least we can dry off a bit. I don't think the dogs are still on our trail, it's been a while since we heard them.'

Ainé crawled silently beneath the rock and lay her head down on her hands. No care remained in her for creepy crawlers, or the cold, damp earth on which she lay. Calder could take little more this night and as he watched her maudlin form curl into a tight fetal ball, he imagined his heart shattering into a thousand tiny pieces and he slumped to his knees.

'I'm sorry. I should have never taken you away. If I were more of a man, I'd have accepted my fate.' Ainé watched him with a lonely dead eye. 'I was selfish. I had no right. Tomorrow, when the sun is high and the sky is clear, I will bring you home and return you to your father.'

Ainé sat slowly up at that, her face to the ground. 'Don't.' she said and Calder felt his heart piecing back together. 'Don't leave me alone. Not now. I love you, Calder.' And his heart filled once more with blood. 'I love you so much that it hurts when you're away. I love you, Calder. And I'll follow you anywhere, wherever it leads us.' And the flames that drove him to this madness reignited, fiercer than ever before.

'Thank you.' he said. 'I don't know that I deserve such words, but thank you.'

They watched each other in silent conversation for a while, the pitter-patter of the rain a lullaby washing their terror away.

'I knew you couldn't stay mad at me for long.' said Clader with a satisfied grin. He sat beside her and out of the rain.

She punched him in the arm once he had made himself comfortable.

'Idiot' she said, 'Just shut up and hold me.' and the irritation was gone as soon as it has appeared, the smile that melted Calder's heart without fail once more upon her lips.

The storm had started to ease; the clouds began to clear, the wind reduced to a whispering gust, the rain to a light drizzle, and the light of the gibbous moon began to shine down through the canopy of leaves. Ainé and Calder sat content beneath their paltry refuge in each other's embrace. Ainé's head rested on Calder's wide shoulders, her golden waves of hair flowing softly over his chest.

Their escape was merciless, as if the gods had put their love to the test, but they were safe now, happy even. Once the first rays of sun began to peek through the leaves, they would find the road and safety more assured.

'What will we do now?' asked Ainé. 'We have no coin, or home to call our own.'

Calder returned his most winning smile. 'Who said we have no coin?'

Ainé lifted her head to face him in shocked disbelief, her mouth open wide, her eyes sharp and questioning.

'You didn't!

'Well I never said you were all that I took from your father!'

'Calder!'

He shrugged his shoulders. 'What? I knew we'd need something to keep us going. It was just lying there. I doubt he'll miss it much considering the taxes he levies.'

Ainé settled her head back onto his shoulder. 'You always were a bit of a rogue.' she said, then she giggled and held him tighter. Soon after, she was sound asleep.

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Some years ago, I was introduced to a small group of people engaging in an interesting activity. They were creating art. In and of itself, this wouldn't be something out of the ordinary, yet combined with alcohol and carried out in a pub, it became something special.

The artist is often thought of as a solitary person, and art a lonely pursuit but Drink and Draw turns that concept on its head and encourages its members to exercise their talent in a social setting where they can explore a variety of themes, sharpen their styles and learn from one another in a friendly environment. Oh, and get merry while they're at it!

You don't have to be a Picasso or Pollock to join us. It's free! Just bring your own art supplies and buy your own drinks.

Now, the Kilkenny Drink and Draw group are preparing for their Arts Week exhibition and I joined them last week to check in with them to see how they were getting on. Their answer is all over this page in the form of the pictures they were working on. We have everything from the Master Sword to Ian McKellan, a Disney Princess and beyond.

Drink and Draw meet up every Tuesday night in Billy Byrnes pub in Kilkenny and new faces are always welcome. In their own words - "You don't have to be a Picasso or Pollock to join us. It's free! Just bring your own art supplies and buy your own drinks." This Tuesday, it's business as usual and the regular members will be hard at work finishing up the pieces they hope to display during their Arts Week Exhibition. The Exhibition itself will begin on Friday, August 7th and the work of the members will be on display in Billy Byrnes for the duration of the festival.

You can find information and more over on the Drink and Draw Facebook page and you can show your support for the group by paying a visit during their Arts Week Exhibition.

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