Cheap, green and convenient. What's not to love about a bike sharing scheme? London has long had its Boris Bikes, named after its former mayor, Melbourne has its fleet of blue bicycles, while Mexico City's EcoBici bike share service plans to offer electric bicycles.

Reddy Go's fleet of red bicycles equipped with GPS promises to improve on these bike share schemes by using a smartphone app to locate and unlock bicycles, providing a free helmet and allowing users to leave them wherever it is legal to do so.

Signing up is simple: type in your phone number and provide credit card details for the $99 membership fee that is refundable on request.

Except my fee is neither accepted nor rejected – merely pending.

A message sent via the app's feedback form goes unanswered and an attempt to use a bicycle parked at Barangaroo fails.

Hiring a bike should not require multiple attempts to register credit card details. Nor should it require a law degree.

Yet the list of terms and conditions in Reddy Go's user agreement is bewildering in its length and complexity.

"You undertake and agree to indemnify Reddy Go against any liability, loss, damage, costs and expenses (including legal costs on an indemnity basis) as a result or in connection with any breaches by you of this agreement," according to clause 19(e).

Would anyone without a law degree, let alone a non-English speaker, understand what this means?

The app is wordy; its instructions, at times, unclear. Reddy Go's bikes can also only be hired by people 18 years and older.

Cyclists, of course, must follow the road rules – in NSW this includes wearing a helmet and not riding on footpaths.

Germaphobes may baulk at sharing a helmet with the great unwashed, while it is hard to imagine how Reddy Go will prevent the theft of helmets from the bike baskets.

A different credit card yields instant results and after scanning a code, the bicycle is unlocked and ready to use.

Reddy Go's app sensibly advises users to give a bike the once-over before hopping on it.

There's no faulting the roadworthiness of my bicycle but I would not want to be seen riding it.

The clunky red bike is certainly not built for speed. Its curved horizontal bar – presumably for cyclists wearing a skirt or dress – and basket is just that little bit emasculating.

The bike also lacks sufficient gears to comfortably tackle some of the city's steep streets.

But cycling has its advantages in cities like Sydney and Melbourne that have inadequate public transport, expensive taxis and distances too far to walk.

At a cost of $1.99 for 30 minutes, Reddy Go is cheaper than a taxi or public transport and quicker than walking for my journey from Barangaroo to Pyrmont.

But there is one last hurdle to overcome. Reddy Go's app offers a final reminder that the bikes can be left anywhere it is legal to do so, but does not mention how to lock the bicycle.

It turns out to be a simple lever that is pressed downward to lock the back wheel, but without a reminder in the form of simple instructions or a diagram users may be left wondering if the bicycle can be left safely.

Reddy Go is still in its infancy and no doubt these problems will be addressed, but in the meantime two-legged transport remains the cheapest, eco-friendly and most convenient option.