On the road with two wheeled terrors

You don't make many friends as a "Lycra lout", cycling aggressively across London. But - provided you can cope with the insults, near-misses and raised fists - you certainly feel smug leaving the Porsches and Mercedes to stew in the jams. The rules of the road, as far as they exist, are easy to pick up: ignore red traffic lights, "own" the street by hogging the centre line and, when that gets too crowded, veer unhesitatingly on to the pavement.

No wonder drivers' organisations are fuming this week that new laws proposed by Europe will make motorists liable for all accidents involving bicycles - even those caused by that aggressive breed of rampaging cyclist who will apparently take any risk to beat the traffic.

From taxi drivers to the RAC, opponents of these "guerrilla cyclists" blame them for imperilling the safety of pedestrians and other road users with their blatant disregard for the law.

"Why should cyclists be exempt from the rules of the road?" asks Bernard Abrams, of the Association of British Drivers, who sees the new proposals as iniquitous.

"Red-light jumping has been taken to an art form in London, and some of them think they have a divine right to cycle wherever they like, even on the pavement. Yet you say something back and you get a dirty look, if not scratched paintwork."

So how far are self-professed Lycra louts prepared to go to beat the system? To find out, The Evening Standard asked Andrea Casalotti, who runs Zero - a Marylebone-based cycle courier company - for a lesson in assertive road sense.

Mr Casalotti, 41, who considers himself "an aggressive and a defensive cyclist", takes an uncompromising view of which roadusers-should take priority. "Cars are just not appropriate vehicles for the dense urban environment," he says.

"People need to understand that the car is a second-class vehicle on the road. They're ugly things, and their drivers' rights should be curtailed, as they are a public danger."

He adds that, until then, cyclists need to find their own survival strategies. "We all have our own level of risk acceptance and, though people might think I do things that are risky, in reality I'm in total control."

Cycling with Mr Casalotti across west London, as he completes his afternoon deliveries, it soon becomes clear that his rules pay little homage to the Highway Code.

Mr Casalotti wears a clean T-shirt and shorts, rather than Lycra. Unlike more verbally abusive cyclists - such as Boris Johnson MP - he tends not to shout "B*******" at drivers who annoy him. But, otherwise, he manages to annoy bus crews and taxi drivers as he hogs road lanes from Lisson Grove to Notting Hill.

"There are too many rules on the roads, and they're what cause the problems," he says. "Drivers start to relax because they think they're in a 30mph zone, or are allowed to turn right, and that's where they stop thinking about other road users. We really need to do away with the rules and let people use their instincts."

As his own contribution towards that goal, Mr Casalotti crosses red lights in his high-built £800 Pedersen bike, sweeps the wrong way into one-way streets and, when he feels he has to, rides on the pavement.

"You do it for convenience as well as safety," he says. "I admit that it might stress out the pedestrian, so you should do it as little as possible. But the roads have been designed for cars, not bikes. The important thing is to be considerate - so I'm prepared to apologise if the pedestrian isn't happy, though you can't do anything with someone prejudiced."

His assertiveness, he believes, has ensured that he has not had an accident for eight years.

Mr Casalotti turns right using a manoeuvre that has brought him controversy even within the courier community. At a junction, he will turn sharply right on to the wrong side of the road, where he will cycle against the oncoming traffic until he can cut across the approaching vehicles to the correct lane - a rather terrifying move but one that saves him waiting for an opening before turning.

APPROACHING car drivers are clearly taken aback by his unexpected presence in their path. But it is the pedestrians that he cares about. As I swerve to avoid a woman who has stepped into the road without noticing me, he tells me that any collision will be entirely my fault. "The more vulnerable you are, the more rights you should have on the road," he says. "Pedestrians must come first, and you should show them courtesy."

Drivers, by contrast, should be assumed to be blind, stupid, indecisive and inevitably mistaken.

"You have to cycle defensively, always presuming every driver is going to move out without noticing you," he says. "Always assume the worst, and that the car hasn't seen you. You have to feel what's behind you."

It is the drivers rather than cyclists who are aggressive, he insists, and those behind the wheels of heavy goods vehicles are the worst, always turning left without signalling.

"But it's not worth a confrontation. I try to fight my initial anger, telling myself it's not the driver's fault, it's the vehicle that makes them do it. You just have to feel sorry for them."

What most annoys the drivers is Mr Casalotti's tendency to position himself in the centre of the road, hugging the white line, so that he can "own" his lane and prevent other traffic overtaking.

"It's instinctive in the nature of cars to want to speed, and this slows them down," he says defiantly along Westbourne Grove, as a Number 23 bus behind us impatiently revs its engine.

"Can you feel him getting angry? He won't get there any faster - there's a red light coming up."

For Mr Casalotti, speed is never a problem. "We are the fastest delivery company in London, and I can get from Bayswater to the City in 15 minutes. Nobody can drive as fast as me - as I don't get stuck in traffic." The lesson over, I pedal off to test the public's reaction - newly transformed from a cautious kerb-hugger to a fearless urban bike commando.

The results are not promising: within minutes, I jump a red traffic light on the Bayswater Road and narrowly miss a matronly woman walking her labrador. The dog barks; its owner, fortunately, is too surprised to do so. But her expression is not a happy one.

Undeterred, I decide to "own" my lane by cycling in the middle of the road, thus preventing any roadspace rivals from overtaking.

After five uncomfortable seconds, a taxi horn sounds impatiently, followed by a volley of abuse that would have tamed even Boris Johnson.

"Move over, you f****** a*******," pipes in an equally frustrated BMW driver. Reclaiming the streets is proving a rather deflating experience.

Approaching Marble Arch, I see the familiar evening rush-hour traffic queue. Decisive action is called for: a quick pavement detour via the Edgware Road.

This guilty manoeuvre, too, fails to impress passers-by, particularly an ageing Asian man who appears to be waving a walking stick in my path. He should, I reflect, be grateful: at least I have not taken the advice of the various cyclist "urban survival guide" websites, which among other tips suggest using water bottles as "handy projectiles" to lob at those who fail to share one's road philosophy.

LONDON'S more mainstream cyclists insist that the aggressive Lycra-clad warriors are an unrepresentat ive minority. "There's a small hardcore who want to fight every traffic law, and we want them stopped," says Peter Lewis, director of the 8,000-member London Cycling Campaign. "There are 650,000 people in London cycling each week, and 120,000 of those do so every day.

"Compare that with 400 or so couriers. Yes, some cyclists jump red lights but so do many motorists. It's a misconception to see all cyclists as Lycra-clad maniacs."

Naturally, Mr Lewis welcomes the proposed EU legislation. "All we want is for motorists to take more responsibility, as cyclists are more vulnerable. That to me is a fair system."

Naturally, Gary Long, an East London taxi driver, does not share this upbeat view of the proposed law. "What we should be doing is forcing all cyclists to register and carry compulsory insurance, and display a licence plate below their seat. That would make them more responsible.

"There's an element in society that enjoys the lawlessness - we all know how couriers ride, thinking they're the only ones on the road in London.

"They don't care - they'll kick your cab, swear at you, spit at you, and run their handlebars down the side of your cab, causing criminal damage. If I hadn't learned to control my temper, I could have confrontations 10 times a day."

The worst offences in Mr Long's eyes include many of those urban survival tips I have just been taught. "They hog the white line, and feel it's an infringement of their rules for you to overtake them on the inside. As for going down a one-way street, that's normal now. You just know at the junction there will be some guy coming at you the wrong way."

Last year, Mr Long was carrying a passenger into the Strand near Waterloo Bridge when a courier accused him of cutting him up. The cyclist used his metal handlebars to cause £485 worth of damage to the door of Mr Long's cab, which he had to pay himself. Despite getting a description, no action could be taken.

"What I can't understand is why they have to own the lane," Mr Long reflects, somewhat idealistically. "Why can't we just get on without anybody owning the road? Or am I being a bit Utopian?"