AUTHOR OF INTERSTATE, STANFORD DOLMAN TRAVEL BOOK OF THE YEAR 2016 "Julian's tales of weaving through the streets of London on two wheels bring to life the gig economy, showing how things have changed in the modern workforce but have also stayed the same. Messengers gives the reader insights on what goes on behind the grand lobbies of the UK's banks and large companies, to see the people who really make business work" Financial Times Messengers sees Julian Sayarer return to work as a London bicycle courier, after six months cycling around the world. From saddle and kerbside, his stories of delivering flowers to politicians, and administration notices to banks toppled by the financial crisis, make for a social history of a less seen city, written from the perspective of someone stuck in one of London's most insecure and poorly paid jobs. Underneath the deliveries, we meet London's bicycle messengers, a family drawn from jaded graduates, jailbirds and recovering drug addicts. The riders all share their brushes with the law, struggles on the breadline and compete together in alleycat races, forming an unlikely but tender community upon the streets. With a bicycle the one constant that seems to make sense of everything else, Messengers is a two-wheeled portrait of everyday life in a modern city at the start of the twenty-first century. "Sayarer is a precise and passionate writer . . . The vast energy of his commitment to discover, observe and communicate makes for engrossing, often incandescent prose. We need writers who will go all the way for a story, and tell it with fire. Sayarer is a marvellous example" HORATIO CLARE

**Winner - Sweetspot Cycling Book of the Year** For 11 years I was a professional cyclist, competing in the hardest and greatest races on Earth. I was in demand from the world's best teams, a well-paid elite athlete. But I never won a race. I was the hired help. When my mum dropped me off in a small French town aged 17, I was full of determination to be a professional cyclist, but I was completely green. I went from mowing the team manager's lawn to winning every amateur race I entered. Then I turned pro and realised I hated the responsibility and pressure of chasing victory. And that's when I became a domestique. I learned to take that hurt and give it everything I had to give, all for someone else's win. When the order came in to ride I pushed out with the hardest rhythm I could, dragging the group faster and faster, until my whole body screamed with pain. There were times I rode myself to a standstill, clutching the barrier metres from the line, as the lead group shot past. But that's what made me a so good at my job. As my career took off, I started looking at the fans lining the route, cheering us like heroes. The passion for cycling oozed off them, but they couldn't know what it was really like. They didn't see the terrible hotels, the crazy egos or all the shit that goes with great expectations. Well, this is how it is...