It might be that I’m getting older and, just like police constables look younger all the time, potholes seem ever greater in number. But surely they were never this bad, this many of them, this big and deep and ruinous to tyres, wheels, pockets and lives. Yes, lives. Trust me, stopping and starting and slaloming all over the place is dangerous. Hit one of the bastard things at speed and things can get very nasty; hit one if you’re riding two wheels and you’re certainly more likely than not to be in a world of pain.