In the Ten Commandments and indeed in the equally important Rules of the Velominati there is no line that says “thou shalt not covet your neighbour’s bike shed”.

Which is good news, because I have been coveting a bit lately. Some of my readers will recall passing references to my amazing bike shed here in Belgium. Alas it is no more, because the reality of house purchasing means that since February I have significantly downscaled from the marvellous milking barn that was my rented storage point for the past three years.

So I have re-joined the group of serial denialists, convincing themselves that just another hook or shelf is all it needs to make their space workable, at least if it means nothing has to be thrown away or sold, especially as I need to keep N+1 essential bikes.

The timing is all the more painful because my old bike shed could shortly be immortalised in print. Author Andy Sykes (Mr. Cycleurope) has sent me a draft chapter of his book “The 35 Degrees: Tarifa to Nordkapp on a Bike Called Reggie”, the chapter in which he visits us in Belgium. It appears the bike shed made a big impression on him too because it merits several paragraphs, which is more than a lot of world famous monuments on his route from the south of Spain to the north of Norway.

With this backdrop I was so jealous when I recently discovered a place that would be rated in the top 10 of Tripadvisor’s “best rated” bike sheds.

Our friend Jens-Loft’s summer house on the island of Langeland is a typical old farm house of the area. Gorgeous black and white timbered walls with a steep thatched roof.

But next too it is the former pig sty. And as we know, the Danes take pig sties very seriously indeed. Or at least the resultant bacon. So the pig sty is built in the same manner as the house, in fact it could easily be a cute summer cottage in its own right. These would have been some seriously pretentious pigs.

Yes the photo above is the bike shed, not the house.

Very cute; and so big that the bikes can be free range inside. I am very jealous, as are my bikes.