It may sound odd, but it is possible. Some people give up smoking - I've given up driving.
My faithful Huffy bike, of three years standing, has carried me the lengths and breadth of the city and desert, aided by a generous stretch of blissfully car-free corniche (aka. promenade or boardwalk).
I also like to think that I've started a trend, because when I first got into the saddle I never saw any fellow cyclists, other than kids, but now they are quite a common sight.
A couple of guys have tried to run me down - a local pastime - and one of them once missed my back wheel by about 5 centimetres, went into a 100 metre skid then smashed his brand new sports car into a palm tree, steam hissing from the bonnet. I checked to see if he was alive then rode home. Poetic justice doused in good karma.
Young lads on their mini-bikes also attempt the hilarious stunt of skidding to a halt right in front of me. Yeah, hilarious huh, Abdullah? That is until my much bigger vehicle ploughs straight through them and then it's boo-hoo time and cries of "fuck you!" from his delightful friends. A middle finger in reply, as I head off into the sunset, sends them into paroxysms of rage.
My old friend and buddy Huffy is used on an almost daily basis for exercise, trips to the shops, the dentist, the bank, the post office, Lebanese take aways, etc, and below is a record of places regularly visited.