Two weeks ago today, following a rather lethargic cycle around my local area here in the west of West Yorkshire, I was descending the short but steep hill near my house when suddenly my bike – Wanda WorldTraveller – stopped functioning as she should. I juddered across the road struggling to pull on at least one of the brakes, veered to the opposite side of the tarmac and ground to a halt against the kerb on the wrong side of the road. Mercifully it was a quiet Sunday afternoon and the incident only involved me, Wanda, the aforementioned kerb and my dented pride.