Some drivers hate you.
Some drivers hate you just because you're a woman. They cut you up and abuse you.
You'll get your bike nicked. You'll get your quick-release saddle nicked. Or a wheel.
You'll get wet unless you wear the best waterproofs including ones for your shoes (which I have, they're very useful).
You'll have to avoid hitting online-addicted pedestrians walking into cycle lanes or roads because they're absorbed in the latest tweets from celebrities.
You'll have to avoid 'Boris bike' (hire bike) riders careering around as if they're in a 50s film called The Joy Of Cycling on bikes designed to be ridden by people who don't know what a decent bike feels like and ride accordingly.
DON'T DO IT!
I feel a little guilty saying that. Like not wanting your favourite new band to be discovered by too many people in case success ruins them. In the old days, anyway, when I used to discover bands. Back when bands meant something.
Cycling means something...like not paying travel fares...or putting up with Mr & Mrs People on tubes and buses. There are too many of them around, aren't there? Perhaps not, if you live in the country. And if you do, what do you do all day when you're not working? I often wonder that.
If you must cycle in London, watch Don't Get Fat from 1963. Boards Of Canada fans will know it. It's like Planet Of The Apes meets Dead Presidents....or something....with a hint of Burroughs' The Wild Boys.
Ultimately, you shouldn't cycle in London. Please don't. Leave more room for me. Thank you.