Yes, it's true. My other half and baby set off from hospital, after an abortive attempt at a magnetic resonance scan (our wee one suddenly developed a cold), in a taxi. I was aboard my trusty new bike (I had expected the bairn to be in hospital for at least one more day).
Stop reading, start speaking
Stop translating in your head and start speaking Italian for real with the only audio course that prompt you to speak.
I passed through the centre, beside Il Duomo, down Via Dante and over the road to the Castello, through the park and then across Paolo Sarpi and home. I did not even rush, well, I rode briskly, but I by no means raced. Not even a little bit. Indeed, even I was a little surprised to have got back first.
Good things bikes. Apart from making you end up rather sticky and sweaty, that is.