Just a quick update on the bicycle helmet. This evening, as I panted home on my bike with my helmet firmly clamped to my head, a guy on a scooter asked me out. Without stopping. He slowed down next to me and introduced himself.
'My name is Salvatore,' he grinned. 'I'm an Engineer' (Italians have this thing about formal titles and announcing their qualifications - apparently even when crawling up hill on a scooter next to a sweaty girl on a bike). 'Do you want to go for a coffee with me?'.
He slowed down to accompany me up the hill, pointing out what a lovely coffee bar there was at the top. Then he whizzed off and waited for me further on to ask again. Talk about speed dating. I managed to politely put him off by the time we got to the crest of the hill and he shrugged, smirked and drove away.
However, the moral of the story is that he wasn't put off by my helmet, which means that either (a) my helmet is really sexy and I just didn't realise, or (b) he was a wierd fetishist. I'm going with option (a) and will be wearing my helmet with a bit more pride tomorrow.