The first bike I bought when I moved to London actually turned out to be stolen.
I'd lived in the city for two months, and genuinely thought a permanent-looking stall at Camden Market (replete with workshop) was a legit place to pay £120 for a slightly scruffy GT Borrego MTB. I got a receipt and everything.
Commuted on it daily for six months, always locked it up to the same stand outside work, until one night I came out to find a much bigger lock on my bike, with a notice saying 'this is a stolen bike'.
Waited 2hrs for the 'owner' to show his face, he rolls up on a nearly-new Ridgeback, and immediately starts telling me stories about all the non-standard parts on the bike, when and why he upgraded them, etc. Told me it got nicked after he left it locked OVERNIGHT on Neal Street.
At this point I told him where and when I bought it, that I had a receipt, and nothing to hide.
We both rode up to Kentish Town nick together, told them our story. They didn't want to know, really. The Police suggested we might take it upon ourselves to visit the Camden Marketeer together, to attempt to get me my money back so I could give matey his bike back (which had clearly already been replaced by insurance).
I gave matey my number, said "Yeah, let's go to market."
He never called, and a month later the driveside chainstay snapped. #longstorybro
The first bike I bought when I moved to London actually turned out to be stolen.
I'd lived in the city for two months, and genuinely thought a permanent-looking stall at Camden Market (replete with workshop) was a legit place to pay £120 for a slightly scruffy GT Borrego MTB. I got a receipt and everything.
Commuted on it daily for six months, always locked it up to the same stand outside work, until one night I came out to find a much bigger lock on my bike, with a notice saying 'this is a stolen bike'.
Waited 2hrs for the 'owner' to show his face, he rolls up on a nearly-new Ridgeback, and immediately starts telling me stories about all the non-standard parts on the bike, when and why he upgraded them, etc. Told me it got nicked after he left it locked OVERNIGHT on Neal Street.
At this point I told him where and when I bought it, that I had a receipt, and nothing to hide.
We both rode up to Kentish Town nick together, told them our story. They didn't want to know, really. The Police suggested we might take it upon ourselves to visit the Camden Marketeer together, to attempt to get me my money back so I could give matey his bike back (which had clearly already been replaced by insurance).
I gave matey my number, said "Yeah, let's go to market."
He never called, and a month later the driveside chainstay snapped.
#longstorybro