It's 9am and my non-fuel injection Honda CBF600 grumbles into life. We head out of the garage with a press of the remote for the roller-shutters and then turn down the street into a blaze of sunshine.
I pause at the market and buy some warm bread, wild cherries and the tastiest of strawberries for lunch at the office. These local markets selling fresh produce add garish splashes of colour to the urban landscape and the scent of the herbs from local countryside.
I cross the busy intersection, exchange nods with a guy streaking past on his Suzuki GSX750 and then accelerate to pass the solid line of taxis and air conditioned 4x4s all desperate to get to work and all seemingly blind to the two-wheeled alternative.
As I wait at the lights in the main square, a motorcycle policeman gives me a start when he walks over to me from his gleaming BMW – but it seems he just wants to pass the time of day and chat about my bike!
The flowers are blooming along the main road and the warm breeze on the wide boulevard keeps a smile on my face as most drivers move aside to let me pass if there's room. At 9:25 I arrive at the office and park outside on the pavement. There are no traffic wardens and plenty of space for bikes. Oh – by the way – I live in Bucharest, Romania!