As I walked out of the Emirates stadium on Sunday night high on the fumes of a 5-1 Arsenal win against Manchester City, I felt untouchable.
That is until WHA-BAM! A silent, speeding Lime bike clarted me with considerable force, sending me arse over tit into the road around Highbury Barn. My knees ate gravel, my side was rammed by metal basket and my palms narrowly managed to protect me from actually faceplanting the ground, but it hurt. A lot.
It was all very English. A big “oooh!” went up from the nearby onlookers, the Lime bike rider desperately pleaded “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” even though it was definitely both of our faults that I got hit (I didn’t look for long enough in his direction, he was hurtling at speed through busy crowds exiting a stadium) and I managed to get out about twenty “I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s okay”s before we all parted ways and acted like nothing happened.
But my knee, rapidly swelling to a comical size like a python that had eaten a small child, told another story.
At this point, nearly everyone I know has had a run-in with a Lime bike at some point or another, whether that be as a pedestrian or while riding one. It makes sense: The green steed has become the transport method of choice for nearly every young Londoner and, to some extent, that’s a beautiful thing.
They’re affordable, good for the environment, easily available and they promote a marginally more active lifestyle. Everyone from Harry Styles to Timothée Chalamet has joined the cult of Lime, with Chalamet recently utilising one of the E-bikes to get into his London premiere of A Complete Unknown (providing priceless marketing for Lime, who must have been absolutely foaming at the mouth when they saw those red carpet pictures).
Not only are Limes super silent, but everyone’s walking around with ears full of cotton wool
And in the summer, they make the city feel like Amsterdam. As much as it feels like a big fat meme, the mass of Lime bikes around All Points East festival entrance each summer is actually quite special. All of those little Limes could have been an Uber, so for the sake of traffic and the environment, we should be grateful.
But now that mass of green scares me. You’d be surprised how threatening they can look in a pack. They’re like Daleks, or Norbots, or whatever the robots are called in i-Robot.
Because Lime’s surge in London has come with a whole hosting of teething issues, many of them due to obstruction. They end up littered on the streets when they’re parked incorrectly (which happens all too often, just as Chalamet, who landed a £65 fine after failing to properly park his last month), proving a real issue for blind and visually impaired people who trip over them.
And that’s when they’re stationary. Lime bikes can reach speeds of 14.8mph, which isn’t hugely fast, but they accelerate from a standing start very quickly.
And a Lime bike is only as safe as its rider. If you’re a young person in London, you and I both know that people regularly ride Lime bikes while drunk. They’re an easy, fast way to get home from the pub or a night out that feels safer than walking, cheaper than getting an Uber and faster than getting the bus.
Plus, that’s not even accounting for one of the biggest Lime crimes of all: Liming with AirPods. Walking around east London, the majority of people you see riding Limes are doing so with AirPods or headphones in, and the majority of headphones involve some noise cancelling. Plus, half the pedestrians have them in too. So not only are Limes super silent, but everyone’s walking around with ears full of cotton wool. It’s no wonder accidents are happening.
Lime are doing things to help: they’re funding free cycle training sessions for 750 adults in Hackney, the epicentre of the Lime universe, and they have rules that advise riders to “be aware of cars, bikes, and pedestrians at all times” and not to use Lime bikes while under the influence of drugs or alcohol. They also encourage riders to wear a helmet and check the brakes and wheels before riding.
But it’s the people they can’t control. This is why, utopian as it is, London cannot become Amsterdam. We’re not ready yet. We’re not smart or respectful enough, and the tensions between cyclists, pedestrians and drivers in this country are so high they could genuine warrant one of those national threat levels. Until we learn to use the Limes safely, maybe they need to be taken away.
Maddy Mussen is a culture and lifestyle writer
