Cycling around London for Thirty-five Years

CS2 Cyclists have to pull out to overtake busses
CS2 Cyclists have to pull out to overtake buses

I’ve been cycling around London since I arrived here in 1978.  There were then only a handful of cyclists and no cycle lanes.  People regarded us as insane to risk our lives in the traffic and our health in the pollution.  However, cyclists then, as now, were able to use the Bus Lanes which provided some degree of safety.  I don’t know if cycle awareness was included in bus driver training but I never had any problems with busses or taxis.  I’d been a car driver since the age of 15 and this helped as I knew the basic road code, stopping at red lights, doing clear hand signals and allowing pedestrians to cross on Pedestrian Crossings.  I’d had a job which involved driving a hire car around London and somewhere on a roundabout on the South Circular in rush hour on a winter’s evening I was overtaken on the inside by a huge lorry, which then drove across the front of the car.  After that I was  pretty careful cycling around places like Hammersmith Broadway or Hyde Park corner which in those days were uncontrolled by traffic lights. The pollution problem, I disregarded as these particles spread out to cover the city uniformly (that’s a law of Physics) so just living in London means you’re breathing it in.

 

CS2 A@ Stepney shares with the busses
CS2 @ Stepney shares with the buses

In the early eighties, I moved from Hammersmith to Bow in Tower Hamlets and would regularly cycle though Whitechapel to the Kings Road, Chelsea, though the City and along the Victoria Embankment.  The Mile End and Whitechapel roads were pretty challenging in terms of traffic, dust and rubbish from the market.  At least on the Embankment there was grand architecture to look at.  During this period I developed a strategy of coming forward at red lights so I could get ahead.  The initial acceleration from a bicycle is far greater than any motor vehicle and you could easily clear the space to allow them to pass later.  I also would make eye contact with drivers, particularly on roundabouts and prepare to take evasive action if they seemed unaware of me.

Fifteen years later, I moved to Hackney and my route into the West End took me though Clerkenwell or Angel and I still get a thrill from freewheeling down the Bus Lane in Pentonville Road to Kings Cross.  In all that time I was only knocked off my bike twice.  Once near Old Street, as I stopped for a light, a car drove slowly into the back of me and in a quiet street in Hackney on a rainy day, a tradesman, who had been resting in his van, decided to open his door just as I went past.  Luckily there was no other traffic to run me over as I slid across the road. ‘What the f… do you think your f…ing side mirror is f…ing for?’ I screamed. The third incident, earlier this year, was in Cornhill on a dark wet evening. A car with no lights on and parked on a double yellow line opened the driver’s door and I went flying for the second time – the car owner was traumatised. Wearily, I said, ‘It would have been good to look in your side mirror.’ There have been numerous times when I’ve had to break suddenly due to a car overtaking me then immediately turning left. Sometimes it’s too late and I’ve found myself also turning left to avoid being run over.  This happened to me only today, thus prompting me to blog about cycling, something I’ve been intending to do for months.

CS2 Cars parked on a Sunday while the pavement has lots of room
CS2 Cars parked on a Sunday while the pavement has lots of room
CS2 Aldgate corner where a talented young woman was killed
CS2 Aldgate corner where a talented young woman was killed

Now twenty-five years later I’ve moved back to Tower Hamlets – Stepney Green, just off the Mile End Road.  So what’s changed?  For a start there are thousands more cyclists, particularly commuters.  They flood into and out of the City, West End and Docklands during rush-hour in an aggressive frenzy.  I don’t often cycle at these times, but when I do, it’s almost as bad as taking on an HGV.  We have high visibility clothing which has, thanks to the success of British Cycling as an Olympic Sport, become ‘designed’ with helmets to match.  In the Olympic summer of 2012 I cycled around London with great inspiration, but was disappointed that few took advantage of the cycle park.

CS3 The lanes narrow - a dangerous crossing
CS3 The lanes narrow – a dangerous crossing

 

CS2 On A Sunday and at night, cars can park in our lane
CS2 On A Sunday and at night, cars can park in our lane

We have flashing lights with batteries which last months rather than weeks and tyres which are less susceptible to punctures and we have cycle lanes.  A few, like the one through Bloomsbury have been around since the Ken Livingston days, others, painted Tory Blue by Boris are new.  I’ve discovered that Super Highway 3 will take me along Cable Street to Tower Bridge on a dedicated lane in fifteen minutes.  It’s brilliant.  But it can be crowed with overtaking and failure to give way when required or to stop.  I recently saw a woman cyclist collide with a pedestrian on a crossing.  Then there are the red lights, which demand a special mention, later. To the north of me is Super Highway 2 which runs along Mile End Road to Aldgate.  Yes it’s the same road I cycled on twenty-five years ago.  It has the same traffic and dust and markets, there’s just a blue strip painted on the inside of the bus lane so you still have to negotiate the traffic.  I cycle down this route often and enviously look at the wide deserted pavements on either side of the road which could be dedicated to us.  It all narrows down along the Bow Road and rather than negotiate the tricky Bow roundabout (site of a recent death) I always go up and over the flyover – there’s nothing to say I can’t and it’s safer.

CS3 Raised cycle lane separates us from the cars.
CS3 Raised cycle lane separates us from the cars.
CS3  This means Give Way to all traffic
CS3 This means Give Way to all traffic

Someone has at last noticed the difference in cycle and vehicle acceleration and put in the cycle zones at lights and intersections.  These are fantastic, provided motorists pay attention.  That’s the point of them; if they illegally stop in this zone, they are delayed while we pull ahead and clear their way.  Buses and taxis are guilty of this as well and can all be fined.

CS3 Sunday Cyclists stop on the red light
CS3 Sunday Cyclists stop on the red light

The other thing I’ve noticed with the burgeoning of the cycle population is ignorance of the Road Code, arrogance (cycles always have the right of way – even if they don’t) and plain wilfulness or risk-taking.  As the holder of a drivers’ license, I can get points for infringements on my cycle, so I’m happy to stop at red lights while all and sundry ignore them completely or cross on the pedestrian green man dodging the walkers as they go.  The women are just as prone to this as the men and it’s quite usual for a nice middle class girl with a wicker basket on the front of her ‘ladies bike’ to sail by without a care looking neither left or right.  Periodically the police set up traps but not often enough.

CS£ Sunday Cyclists go on the green light
CS£ Sunday Cyclists go on the green light

Finally, there’s the issue of signalling.  Cyclists, I believe need to give clear signals of their intention to turn left or right, and If you’re wearing a bright yellow jacket, all the better.  None of this one finger pointing right at hip level, but a whole arm horizontal from the shoulder, telling everyone ‘I am a cyclist and this is where I’m going.’  I also think that the road code should be altered so that motor vehicles must indicate intention to turn left as well as right, in good time and including waiting at lights. When I sat my test, signalling was only recommended when necessary – whatever that meant.  I’ve often pulled up to the left of a car which is not indicating and I assume it’s going straight ahead, only to be cut up when they turn left.  If a waiting car is indicating left, I can pull up on their right and go ahead or turn right.  This, I believe would improve our safety even more.

 

CS2 Anyone for a ride through the trees? There's room.
CS2 Anyone for a ride through the trees? There’s room.
CS3 Tree-lined cycling
CS3 Tree-lined cycling

I’m constantly astonished that there aren’t more fatalities, particularly on the Boris Bikes and notice that motorists are much more wary of cyclists than they used to be.  Cycling in London is so much better than in 1978.

Ian Stewart on Twenty-Two Eighty-Four

Fellow writer, Canadian Ian Stewart (Vancouver) has just finished reading Twenty-Two Eighty-FourThroughout his read he’s been sending me notes and observations about his experience.  It’s interesting to look at his intellectual and literary reaction to the story and its societal setting in the future, to compare it with where we are now in the world and what needs to be done.

From Ian:-

I’m really liking the role of the ‘womyn’ (sic) I’m also gladded with the normalisation of sexualities … I think we’re at a window of opportunity to voicing these views, hitherto so fiendishly suppressed, and I feel that strong work of this nature — beyond being timely and highly current — might even see-away the artificiality of imposed homophobia in a more lasting fashion than we’d hope.

 

Cover of 2284
Cover of 2284

Back to your Twenty-Two Eighty-Four, which — yay! — is to my mind continuing excellently as before. I liked very much the characterful and evocative transit to Istanbul, where I found the societal fronting of men within this further ‘Eastern’ matriarchal world intriguing and thought-provoking. I liked the subsequent chapter in Norfolk and the party scene was interesting in bringing the various character streams together.  I also like the government interventions on Pitto’s work-life, as well as the descriptions of his earning tasks. Reaf, also, is developing nicely, with a concomitant leitmotif I find highly worthy to be got into print, around the father-son advice and mentoring — which is novel in queer literature, to me, anyways, in the explicit flagging of such support, especially within this underlying or hovering context of homosexuality (so well done there!).

The Norfolk women’s welcoming-in Hebe and Pitto is well handled, and Quercus’ saying “Kara?” on seeing her clone Hebe is nicely effective. I’m liking the — again, unexpected — father and son webbed feet at the end (is there more to that than just a shared quirk of genetic expression? I like that we’ve only heard of their hot bodily perfection thereunto): I took all the genetics stuff at face value, accepting your authorial guidance, knowing too little on the subject.

When the — interesting and cool — Nolly character says about the planet being saved by the HFV I spontaneously clicked my palate with my tongue and softly said “Wow” aloud. Moved to thus physically, bodily reacting, with surprise; understanding; my interest honed; absolute delight with your authorial accomplishment; and a penny-dropping ‘aha!’ at this key new take on the information we’d had hitherto presented to us otherwise; unexpectedly, alternatively, delivered from a reliable and clued-in source, and immediately, effectively contrasted by Kara’s ‘eco-nut’ thoughts.

Indeed, through this whole closing situational Kara’s outlook is a powerful contributor,   I very much liked the comic scramble to find a means to print the documents she subsequently showed to Nolly.  I also like the clarification that comes-about via Kara in these concluding scenes, as to the construction of this matriarchal societal structure having been a concerted move to reorganise people from the faulty destructiveness they’ve associated with the male outlook – nice to have that re-adjustment of view coming from Establishment Kara at the end of the novel.

So, overall, delighted, glad to have read it, and — the human mind virus — I’m certain that imagery and ideas from this highly informed and well thought-out, entertaining and sexy exposition around the societal and structural planetary challenges facing us will stick with me, and no doubt shape my views and thinking on these matters. So, well done, Chris, at your fine novel’s timely contribution.  You’ve particularly got a solid grip on the manners and issues of interest to both men and women — (I was at a Vancouver reading by Tennessee Williams in my teens, where he said in answer to a comment on that, that he had, himself, “a certain duality of gender”) — which unusual comprehension should decidedly stand you in good stead with readers of either sex.

I’m thrilled that it keeps-on excellently through to its conclusion. What a tremendous accomplishment!

Twenty-Two Eighty-Four can be purchased from Paradise Press in paperback or electronic formats.  You can also read part of chapter 1 on this site.

 

Five Go Swim In Paris

Five (Six) Go Swim In Paris

 

Michael Webster with Notre Dame
Michael Webster with Notre Dame
20140606_164720
Chris at Hotel de Ville

We few, we merry band of men are crossing (under) the channel to struggle for glory at Tounoi International de Paris (TIP).  Anyway, that’s how it seems on the Friday when Michael Webster & I arrive to glorious sunshine. Both of us have been to Paris many times, so there’s no need to rush around seeing everything like tourists. We take a leisurely walk from our Hotel at République down to the Sein, saying hello to Notre Dame where we admire her flying buttresses and newly scrubbed up front.  Hotel De Ville is covered in Union Jacks to welcome Queen Elizabeth of the United Kingdom. She’s visiting for the D day anniversary and we just have to stop for a photo.

Hotel De Ville
Hotel De Ville

We head up to the TIP Village in the Marai to register.  There’s a lot of milling around and getting crossed off various lists, finally at the swimming desk where we get our welcome bags full of promotional literature, one condom & lube plus a pink wrist band to prove we’ve paid to get into the party and a blue wrist band for this event.  No one else from Out To Swim is around but Michael spots a woman involved in the Gay Games when he was sailing & I run into Christophe from our Prague relay team.  It’s all a bit of a non event but we buy a beer and stand about, clarify the warm-up and start times for tomorrow, then wander down some side streets in search of some French food.

Piscine Georges Vallerey with open roof
Piscine Georges Vallerey with open roof

There’s the usual issue with breakfast, eating early enough before a race so we’re the first customers.  Getting to Piscine George Vallery is easy and quick on the Metro so I’m one of the first to warm up.  There hasn’t been any start sheets sent out so until they are posted up on the wall, we are unaware that Bob McInnes has entered which brings our swimming team up to six.  First up for me is the 800 metres freestyle which, in a 25 metre pool means 32 lengths and a lot of counting.  There are flip charts with the number of lengths remaining and I’m asked if I have someone to flip my chart. No. But the very nice woman who has been flipping for the previous swimmer offers to flip for me. Phew!  I can’t quite believe my time of 14 minutes 07 seconds on the board, but it is correct. I’ve cut my personal best by 16 seconds and I’m thrilled.

OTS Syncro Team
OTS Syncro Team

The Out To Swim Syncro team arrive and they compete for two hours while we have lunch and cheer them on.  By the end of the day, we’ve all won medals. I’m disqualified in the 100 metres Backstroke for an incorrect turn so I miss out on a second gold but our 4 x 50m Freestyle relay team comes second.  It’s been unclear if relay entries count towards our five individual events.  It turns out, that they don’t so that’s a relief.  We are all exhausted at the end of it, but stay to cheer on the Syncro team in their second session.

Sunbathing in the pool
Sunbathing in the pool

Abraham is originally from the Philippines, lived in London for a while and swam with Michael.  He’s come to watch, and we go off in search of dinner, conversation and flirtatious waiters.  The rest of the evening goes quickly and soon it’s time for sleep and recovery.  There’s no rush for breakfast on Sunday as the programme starts with the 1500m and that will take several hours.  In the event we arrive just as the womens’ heat is ending and are able to cheer on David D.  He swam so well yesterday and now he wins the last and fastest heat, turning in a personal best – amazing. Robert Jolly, who swims for Paris Aquatique part of the year and in Australia for the rest, remembers me from Antwerp.  He’s in Michael’s age group and is very fast.  Likewise I’ve got a man from Aqua Homo just turned 60 and he’s winning all the gold medals in my events today.  We are, however content with silver medals as we’ve turned in some very good times.  Another personal best for me in the 200m back stroke and a nifty 100m freestyle.  David D wins a medal in breaststroke (which he doesn’t like) and Jerome does likewise in his Butterfly race, in which he swallows water and just about drowns.  In the lunch break, with the roof of the pool open, the attractive and youthful Paris Aquatique team decorate this lovely pool by sunbathing on floats.  We get to know Robert Jolly, who like his name is a laugh.  There’s some lovely swimming to watch and learn from, tumble-turns to admire and strugglers to applaud for just having a go. Oh, and I should mention the physiques – Pecs, abs, bums all in perfect shape.

Medley relay team wins gold
Medley relay team wins gold

Finally, it’s the medley relay which, after a slight reshuffle of personnel, we win gold and Philippe is beside himself with joy.  Champagne is handed out to all, so that Michael & I have to go back to the hotel and sleep it off before dinner and going on to the party, which begins at 10pm.  As we walk from restaurant to party venue, the sky is alive with lightning in the distance.  There’s an almighty queue when we get there, right around the block so we almost give up as we are both unaccustomed to queuing for clubs these days.  It moves quite quickly though and we are given a drink ticket and fight our way into a large sweaty room packed solid with bodies.  The show has been delayed so that we can all get in and when it does start, we can’t see or hear very well as there are too many people and they are talking and shouting above the performers.  It’s all a bit of a disaster and we are about to go when we run into the OTS water polo guys. They’ve brought 4 teams and one of them came fourth.  There’s talk of going to another bar but we’ve had enough for one day and walk back to République via Bastille.  One metro stop away, the heavens open with hail-stones and we take shelter under an awning.  In a gap, we scuttle into the Metro and by the time we get to République, it’s all over and much cooler.

We can hardly move our bodies to get out of bed the next morning and only just make breakfast.  We’ve now got  over an hour to walk through the Ile De la Cité, along the Left Bank, take a very short turn in the Tuileries then walking in glorious sunshine through the centre of the Louvre en route to Brunch in the Marais.  This last event is much more manageable and we sit down under a canopy in a cool courtyard to be served a great meal.  We’re joined by a Parisien squash player so Michael gets an opportunity to practice his French conversation.  There are some basketball players from Berlin who are joined by a team mate, originally from Israel.  He’s a dancer/choreographer and is very entertaining.  His German isn’t that good so we all end up speaking English.  Patrick (one of the swimming officials) joins. He’s Canadian but has worked here as a translator for 40 years.  Two of the Germans have to go and are replaced by another Canadian/Israeli who lives in London.  The conversation is excellent and varied and we’ve forgotten the disaster of a party last night.