Beryl Is Dead.

A scuff along my left inner calf. Just beneath that a short slash of loose skin. A sore knee. The result of a power-assisted pedal down an ill-fitting road. What started as a simple ser if errands had quickly escalated into a farce. All in the name of public and green transport.

Many people that I know argue that the best car driving experiences involve hire cars. The same can’t be said for Manchester’s new-ish Beryl bikes. The bee-crested Bee Network bikes have been around the city for some time. Their yellow livery and solid frames, like bees, give off a sense of warning. Many hit accelerate in their hire cars, and some give little care to how they return them. I pride myself on treating all in my possession as my own. I aimed to take this hire bike back safely.

Departing a bus stop in Ardwick, I ran my first errand, and toyed with the idea of a bus back to town and then across to Openshaw. I passed a rack of yellow bikes. I decided to download the Beryl application. I followed the instructions and was quickly away. I slowed past the site of the former Daisy Mill in Longsight. I sped on, deciding to swing via Gorton and then Openshaw before heading for Newton Heath. That was my first error.

The second error was not locking the bike, despite using the screen to lock it. The screen kept flashing with a lock bike message. Then I slid the black rear lock in place. It said I could park for 15 minutes. I gave myself 5 minutes in the shop. Within minutes, 4 phone warnings flashed up. The reasonable minutes per bike riding were okay. The £25 out of zone parking was not. It had not paused the journey. It ended the journey. I soon contacted team Purple on the Beryl application. Displeased was an understatement.

After some careless negotiation, enraged, with sore cold hands on a phone that refused to steady my nerves, I had negotiated my charges back. Just the charges. Not the journey fee. I left it a few days, and even now, 6 days later, I feel angry at such a poor experience. Use more environmental transport? Hmm. No thanks.

I’d managed a loop and ended almost where I’d started. Racking and placing the two locks onto the bumbling Bee bike, I became infuriated by the complexity of a simple enough ride. I’ve used similar services in Germany, China, Japan, and Denmark, yet here in my hometown, hiring a bike seemed as complex as spliting the atom.