Each morning In North Oxford where I live a great spectacle beholds you, as en mass, children and parents ride to school.

The streets look something akin to a cycle demonstration but this is just the daily commute for parents and their little ones.

As September brings the beginning of a new term, our shop is overwhelmed by parents with children taking the decision to either continue using a tag-along or child seat or finally take the big step and have them ride their own two wheels to the school gates.

Part of me fully empathises with the leap of faith you must take asking them to ride alongside you in an orderly manner because I can still remember the long treacherous road to becoming a good cyclist.

There is a lot more choice today then there was 30 years ago when I was learning. As we prepare to sell the next big thing called the ‘littlebig bike’ – a little balance bike that converts into a larger balance bike as they grow and finally a proper bike with pedals and crank – I became rather nostalgic for the days when I learned to ride. The new balance bike will take a child from two years to seven on one bike. However, I did it all on a family shopper but that was the 80s for you.

I still remember the long afternoons spent circling the garden with my dad, as he patiently held me by the saddle until I eventually had the courage to use the pedals and balance. This was on a family hand-me-down, not a wonderful new balance bike like the kids get today. No, my first foray in the cycling world was on an adult’s bike quite a few sizes too big for me and looking at the photos of this expedition you wonder how I ever managed to become a cyclist.

But I did and I remember my bikes with fond affection. I grew up in the days of the BMX and the mountain bike, both totally ridiculous choices for riding around the local streets, but it was what we all did. Those were the days where you looked on with jealously if someone turned up to the local park with a Raleigh Chopper and you dutifully ate your morning cereal with the hope a new packet was produced, within which were the jewels of childhood – a packet of spokey dokeys.

To say speed was not a necessity when I cycled as a child is an understatement. Speedos were practically unheard of and we all wobbled around on bikes more suited to stunts than cycling but you never forget the freedom you felt as you cycled farther than technically allowed by your parents to meet your mates and the overwhelming jealously when your mate turned up on their brand new bike which you secretly wished was yours.

The joys of childhood riding never leaves me and I love now seeing the concentration on the children’s faces as they make their way past my house to school. I remember it well: the courage needed, the worry on your parents’ faces, but then ultimately the best feeling ever – mastering the art of cycling.