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Caspian released a hire bike from its stand, checked his destination on the map, mounted the bike, and rode towards the river. The autumn leaves skirled around him and, as he cycled upwards onto the bridge, the wind buffeted him from the west.

At the end of the bridge, the cycle path disappeared and he swore under his breath at the lack of a continuous safe route. One thing he had particularly enjoyed about his transfer to Berlin was the kilometres of cycle pathways and the way in which car drivers, cyclists, and pedestrians co-existed on the streets of the country's sprawling capital city.

Undeterred, he continued south towards the park he had been told about. As he entered the gates, he could hear the beat of the drum, and his spirits lifted. He cycled towards a small crowd. Everyone was younger than him, with hope and anger on their faces. At the centre, a slight young woman with long hair held the attention of the crowd as she took a microphone and began to sing.

'You can shove your climate crisis up your arse,' she sang, a mischievous look on her face.

Caspian laughed, and along with the rest of the crowd cheered as she switched into an impromptu speech.

'Inside COP there are just politicians and people in power, just pretending to take our future seriously... Change is not going to come from inside there. That is not leadership,' she said, her voice crescendoing. 'THIS is leadership... THIS is what leadership looked like.'

The crowd's cheers increased at Greta's words. Caspian nodded thoughtfully, and turned his bike back out of the park.

The COP26 Kabuff: A Beatrice Deft ShortWhere stories live. Discover now