Helen Pidd's 'smug feeling of self-sufficiency'

My pal Alan refers to my Kona as a 'butcher's bike'. I know what he means: it's a little cumbersome. For a start, there are huge tyres, then there's the hefty, box-like frame and, as Alan would say, all I need is the name of 'Dewhurst' on the side, instead of Kona, and I've got a butcher's bike. Although, butchers' bikes, as I recall, are basically normal bikes with a kind of heavy, integral rack on the front, designed to carry a huge basket full of raw meat. My bike doesn't even have mudguards (something I tend to pay for dearly as the winter months draw nearer).

Anyway, butchers' bikes aside, Helen Pidd was in last Saturday's Guardian Weekend magazine - which I read in a café in Penge - writing about a bike called a Bullitt. The thing is, it doesn't really live up to the image conveyed in the name. The Bullitt is what Pidd calls a 'freight bike' and, it seems, Pidd has realised that her cycling obsession has gone too far. Whether Pidd sleeps with her bike, I don't know, but it's clear that she is obsessed and this is evidenced by her insistence on using a frieght bike - the Bullitt - as a means of moving house.

The Bullitt - I wouldn't fancy racing with it.

The bike was supplied to Pidd by a chap called Gizmo, who, like Pidd, lives in Berlin. Pidd found it great fun to ride and claims she'd seriously think about it for trips to the supermarket (if she was richer and had somewhere to store it).

Mind you, it costs £2,170 and you could buy a half-decent van for that, so Pidd, it has to be said, is definitely obsessed with pedal power and should, perhaps, lie down in a darkened room for an hour or so and then go hire a van, rather than mess around on a cumbersome freight bike, even if it is easier to ride than many of its rivals. Rivals? What's this? She's ridden other freight bikes? What's wrong with the woman?

Still, if you are obsessed with cycling - to the extent that you'd hire a bike instead of a van to move house - then you might like to take a look at the Bullitt. It can't be all bad if it gives Helen Pidd 'a smug feeling of self-sufficiency'.

Check out http://thebullittbike.co.uk

Saturday 8th October 2011...

Last weekend we went out earlier than usual and met at the Green at 7am for a short ride to the bus stop. There was no tea as we'd run out of milk and, well, it wasn't the best of rides. You can't beat a cup of tea and it would be fair to say that we both missed our customary warm drink.

I stayed over at mum's on Saturday night and on Sunday morning, rain put an end to any thoughts of a ride - an abort text was sent.

October 1st and 2nd

The phrase 'since records began' has been used by the weathermen whenever they discuss extreme weather. No doubt, this weekend's heat will bring the phrase out of the box again pretty soon. In short, it was hot and, to be fair to the weathermen, it had been forecasted during the week - we all knew it was coming our way.

As avid readers will know, our planned ride to Hunger's End would have been rather pleasant on Saturday, but I had things to do concerning motor transport and had to do without a ride on Saturday. Instead, I messed around at home as I had the place to myself. I mowed the lawn front and back, I cleaned the car and I had a cold beer and a ham sandwich in the garden - perfect!

The last time I experienced heat like this weekend, in October, was in 1981 while in Greece. Sunday was even hotter, they reckon 29 degrees, but it might have tipped 30. Fortunately, a ride was on the agenda and I left the house, laden with fruit cake, hot water and tea bags, to meet Andy for a ride. The plan was Westerham and we stuck to it.

I left the house in a tee-shirt and only experienced a mild coolness at the bottom of the hill as we crossed the Surrey/Kent border and headed for the bridge under the M25 - but even then it was mild.

Andy took this shot of Winston Churchill 

and my crash helmet

There's nothing better than Churchill's birthplace on a decent summer's day - although that word 'summer' should, perhaps, be changed to 'autumn' because there were, make no mistake, leaves on the ground and there are only three months to Christmas. But the weather was hot, even if there was enough dew on the benches surrounding the green, and on Winston's statue, to force us to stand and drink our tea.

Unknown to me when I packed the fruit cake, Andy had stuffed a bag of chocolate brioche pastries into his rucksack as well as the cereal bars, making the plinth of Churchill's statue a little crowded: flask, mugs, fruit cake, pastries and cereal bars. We left the latter for next week and I declined a second pastry on the assumption that having it would have made the exercise of cycling pointless.

It was October 2nd 2011, there was a farmer's market setting up in the town centre, but not on the green, a few people wandered about here and there and various motorcycles cruised noisily along the A25 en route to somewhere. Andy and I discussed owning motorcycles and realised that they would take up all of our time and cause friction at home. Going out for an early morning ride and being back home around 10am was fine, but owning a motorcycle would lead to excursions lasting the whole day and they would definitely not go down well at home. Furthermore, I have no desire for a motorcycle. The thought of wearing leathers and a heavy helmet on a hot day is one thing, the other is the risk of losing a limb or, worst still, my life. Not for me, I'm afraid, although I wouldn't mind owning a Harley - just to polish it.

While we agreed that Hunger's End would have to wait until next week, circumstances later in the day dictated that I must postpone my visit to Vampire Tints in Penge for yet another week - meaning that the week after next is now more likely, unless, of course, it's raining. Let's hope it remains dry.

Tatsfield Churchyard and Westerham...

A short one to Tatsfield Churchyard on Saturday (24th September) followed by a longer ride to Westerham on Sunday. The weather was fine on both days and there was mum's fruit cake to eat too, which was excellent (Andy and I are both fans).

The reason for the short run on Saturday was because I had commitments - well, one commitment: to organise a car for myself. Anyway, the plan was to visit the car showrooms and to take on one of those hefty 'personal plans', but to be honest, my heart wasn't in it. I'm not that type of person. I don't fork out, or rather, commit to a huge loan for a car. Car's don't appeal, I've always had secondhand cars and I've always driven them into the ground - like now (I own a 1997 316i BMW and it's on it's last legs). And that's the whole point: sooner or later it's going to leave me stranded on the hard shoulder of the M25, M26 or M20. Except that, so far (and we're talking one month in of doing 400 miles per week) nothing untoward has happened.

My 1997 BMW 316i on the drive - now doing 400 miles 

per week on three motorways.

The plan was to cycle to Hunger's End, but my commitments meant I could only afford a short ride – but then, when I returned, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to meet the smarmy car salesmen, we decided to buy our son's similarly spec'd BMW (a coupe version of ours and the same age). So, we didn't bother with car salesmen and we've saved ourselves the worry of commiting to such a large sum of money.

Secretly, however, I'd rather like a brand new car, but the voice of reason says no - not yet at any rate.

So, Tatsfield it was, followed on Sunday by a pleasant ride to Westerham, where all the benches were drenched with dew, forcing us to lean against the statue of Winston Churchill.

The thing is, while I fully expected to be able to visit Hunger's End this coming weekend - even down to chatting with Jon at lunchtime and running through what I planned to eat (scrambled egg on two slices of thick toast and a mug or two of tea) I reached home to discover that I have to be at the tint shop to have tinted windows restored to normal (a condition of the insurance).

So, guys, if you're listening - or rather reading - I can't go to Hunger's End this weekend either!

17th and 18th September 2011

Jon at Woodmansterne Green.

I should have motivated myself to go cycling on Saturday, but it was damp and unpleasant-looking outside, Andy wasn't going and while I did consider Woodmansterne Green, I decided that I'd cycle round to mum's in the evening instead. Unfortunately, it was raining around 6pm on the Saturday so I drove over instead.

Waking up early at mum's, I drove home after the obligatory fairy cake and a cup of tea (no, I love them, that was a joke) I reached home and then cycled back to Woodmansterne where I met Jon for a welcomed chinwag, cup of tea, two of mum's fairy cakes and an over-ripe banana.

Woodmansterne is quite a work-out even if the ride there is a little boring and suburban. The weather was fine and all was well.

I cycled home and then spent the rest of the day in the car, taking Max to Euston. I don't know what was happening, but Parliament Square had been re-routed and we ended up going south of the river in order to go north again. Not good, but all's well that ends well.

It looks as if Hunger's End is seriously on the cards for this coming weekend. Andy texted me yesterday expressing his desire to go there, Jon has been hinting at a ride there too and, well, it would be good to visit the caff again - and hopefully the eccentric shaving man will be there.

Carshalton and the Tatsfield Bus Stop...

Yesterday it was a suburban cycle through the mean streets of Croydon, Wallington and Carshalton. Went over to see mum. It was a good 12-miler, but largely suburban streets. Last night I stayed over at mum's and awoke in the early morning and listened to the rain and wind outside. I must have nodded off because I came to around 0550hrs and could still hear the rain - or at least I thought I could. I fully expected an abort text from Andy but hadn't received one. I sent him one, saying something like, 'looking unlikely' and got a reply stating it wasn't raining over Caterham way. Then I looked out. What a beautiful day! Sure, it had been raining, the ground was wet and there were puddles, but the skies were clearing, a watery sun occasionally appeared behind smoky, fast-moving clouds and it was definitely time to hit the road.

Dog Shit Alley joins Shorts Road with West Street in Carshalton.

Start the day with a fairy cake, that's my motto. I had two of them and a large mug of tea before saying goodbye to mum and driving home to pick up the bike. We aimed for somewhere with cover and the Tatsfield Bus Stop seemed like a good idea.

September 11th, that fateful day back in 2001. I was in Tamworth, visiting a chef called Matthew Shropshall and so was my photographer, Rob Wilkinson. A strange day, but there you have it.

Today, the weather was fine, but it wasn't long before I had a wet arse (thanks to the puddles) and was beginning to reconsider, as I do at this time of year, whether to fit some mudguards. Knowing me, I probably won't, I'll just put up with it, but we'll see – I don't like having a wet arse.

Today really marked a change in the weather. For the past six months, despite what people say, the weather's been brilliant. It's nice outside now – sunshine everywhere – but the last six months have been fantastic. If you don't believe me, just check back through the pages of this blog, look at the blue skies in the photographs and you'll see what I mean. I can't stand people who moan and wonder what happened to the summer, as if we haven't had one, we have!!!

A different angle on an old bus stop? New
routes are definitely needed. 

But as I cycled with Andy towards Botley Hill, I noticed a difference in the weather. It was cooler for a start, it had been raining over night, there were big puddles everywhere, my arse was wet, I was considering mudguards, something had definitely changed.

During the summer months, an overcast day is depressing in the extreme, but the only bad day I recall this summer was when we did the Black Horse Ride in June. Outside of that, it's been great. In the summer, clouds are a bummer, but in the wintery months – or the lead-up to them – a cloudy day is welcomed as it brings to mind tea and cake in front of the fire. Well, we're not quite there yet, but, as I say, a change is out there and the risk of getting a soaking has increased. Soon, the gloves will go on – I thought about them this morning too.

At the Tatsfield Bus Stop we discussed cars and mileage, Peuguots versus BMW, big cars versus small, old cars versus new and we talked about discovering new routes because when I reached for the camera to take the traditional photograph for the weekly post – this post – we realised that we had exhausted every shot the Bus Stop could offer us. We need a new route – or a new destination – and I'll have to put my thinking cap on.

Jon suggested yesterday that we head out for Hunger's End next week and I suggested that Redhill hasn't been done for a while and there's a caff there open on Sunday. And what about Boxhill? A bit far, perhaps. Andy can't make next Saturday, but he's going on Sunday so possibly Redhill and then Hunger's End the following weekend. Who knows?

Tatsfield Churchyard

A ride to the Tatsfield Churchyard on Saturday 3 September where Andy and I chatted about Andy's London to Paris ride - for full details see Andy's report below. Sunday I aborted due to general tiredness (well, alright, a late night AND little sleep).

Big Ben to the Eifel Tower - in Andy's own words...

Andy after he cycled to Paris, bank holdiay
weekend, 2011.

Andy Smith writes: Matt (Dixon), Richard and myself first talked about riding from London to Paris a year ago, but only recently did we start taking it seriously.

Richard found a route posted online from Dieppe, so it was decided that this would be our starting point in France for Paris. It would mean catching a ferry from Dieppe and arranging a view B&Bs. After that, all that remained was getting a day off work, booking the ferry and Eurostar and then just doing it.

Back in July, as a warm-up, we had a trip planned from Tring to the Cotswolds. This went well and boosted our confidence about tackling London to Paris.

Even so it was with some trepidation that we made our way to the start opposite the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben at seven in the morning. It was 26 August, the bank holiday weekend and the weather wasn’t looking good. Still, we took some photographs.

It was overcast as we set off, but the grey cloud was nothing compared to what came next.

We cycled through quiet pre-rush hour London streets and being as we were ‘counter-commuting’ there were no traffic problems. We were heading south and made it to the. Rendezvous cafe on the A22 in Kenley by nine. As we munched our much-needed breakfast, it started to rain and this set the scene for the rest of the day. The rain got heavier and heavier as the day wore on. The A22 is not the place to cycle in heavy rain with lorries throwing huge plumes of water all over us. Two hours in the pub at lunch time and still it was raining hard, but, an hour or so from Newhaven, it started to brighten up – and then, as we arrived in Newhaven and were looking for our first B&B,Matt got a puncture. Fortunately, there was a Halfords nearby.

The following morning we had an early start with a full English breakfast and then a short ride to the ferry where we queued up with around a dozen other cyclists. Some had support vehicles with them, but we didn’t.

It took four hours to reach France where there was no sign of the bad weather from yesterday.

Our plan meant a ride of about a dozen miles before joining a cycle path converted from a railway track. This was brilliant. No traffic, no map reading needed, and no hills. It was around thirty miles to our B&B. The cycle path still had the old stations along the way and yes, at times, I secretly pretended to be a train. En route there were some impressive chateaus, which made for good photo opportunities and by early evening, we reached Forges les Faux. 

In the morning we enjoyed croissants and coffee in the village square and prepared ourselves for what would be a much harder day. It was hotter for a start and while the countryside was pleasant enough, there were some pretty steep hills too. And being a Sunday, there weren’t many shops open for food and drink. We kept going until we found a bar in a little village where we enjoyed a couple of glasses of nature’s energy drink before speeding off to our next overnight stop at a hotel in Cergy.

Fortunately, there was a Chinese restaurant a walk away from the hotel where the phrase ‘Trois pour le buffet s’il vous plait’ tripped off the tongue. In English, that’s ‘three for the buffet, please’.

The next day we had more croissants, coffee – and some cake - for breakfast and this set us up for the last push to Paris.

After a few hours of riding on the road we entered the first of the parks that would take us to within a mile of the Eiffel Tower. The weather was great, and once into the parks there was no traffic to worry about. Who would be the first to see the Eiffel Tower?

We entered the centre of Paris on a converted aqueduct, which proved to be one of the highlights of the trip. We’d already had a glimpse of the Eifel Tower earlier on, but as we crept into the French capital it started to get really close. We cycled around the Longchamp Racecourse and out of the last park with only about one mile to go.

As we rounded the corner, there was the Pont d’Lena bridge and the Eifel Tower on the other side of the Seine.

We had done it! London to Paris on a bike and under our own steam. What could be greener? Matt and myself called home and Richard was able to wave to his family who were halfway up the Eifel Tower – all that remained now was a ride across Paris to the Gare du Nord and the Eurostar back to London.

Now, where are we going next year, I wonder?

To Carshalton for a stroll down memory lane...

Jon and yours truly on Woodmansterne Green, Saturday August 27th 2011.

Sunday, 2137hrs: Andy's back in the UK after his ride to Paris and NVL will be reporting on his adventures just as soon as he tells us more about what happened. He set off on Saturday, spent the night in Newhaven, then took the ferry over the channel and rode all the way to Paris.

Round at mum's - this shot taken in the kitchen.

I cycled every day of the bank holiday, first going to mum's on Saturday, then to Woodmansterne Green on Sunday and today, Bank Holiday Monday, I rode through suburban streets to Grove Park in Carshalton. On all three occasions I met with Jon and we talked a lot about dad. Now that I have a full-time job again, I've had some time to reflect a little more on dad's passing away.

These steps in Grove Park I used to climb when I was very, very young. What
they were used for, I'll never know.

Each ride this weekend was roughly 12 miles, meaning I rode the best part of 36 miles. The best ride was today for some reason. I think it was because we were in Grove Park, doing all sorts of things, revisiting old childhood haunts, like the old mill, the riverbank where we went fishing with nets on the end of a strip of bamboo, the big lakes opposite the church where mum and dad got married. Jon recalled an occasion when the lake opposite the Greyhound Hotel was frozen over and how he and a mate walked on it.

The Mill Pond in Grove Park - it lets the rest of the park down.

Grove Park is very nicely landscaped, there's the River Wandle, that runs through the park and, well, it's a great place, but one bit of it let the rest of it down: the mill pond. While the park as a whole looks good, the mill pond is a complete disaster; it looks like something out of an eco-disaster movie. In short, people have used it as a rubbish dump. There's old tyres, discarded drinks bottles, you name it, it's in there and that's just not good.

Jon and I stood around looking at the mess, having enjoyed the rest of the park. We met an old woman with a dog who said she'd lived in the area for 17 years. She told us how the park authorities seem to let the offenders get away with murder: they torch motorcycles and generally make a mess, presumably in the dead of night.

The Old Mill in Grove Park. Rumour has it that a young boy
met with an accident here and died.

We cycled around the park and it brought back many memories. I was amazed to find the old changing room and the playing field where we used to play football during 'games' lessons, or PE as it was known. The pitch looks much smaller than I remember it, but then again, I was much smaller.

One of two large lakes close to Carshalton's High Street.

We larked around in the children's playground, which was deserted. Jon had a go on the aerial ropeway - and there's video evidence as you've probably already discovered. We drank our tea by the side of one of the big lakes where a strange man with a plastic bag full of bread fed the ducks. He was obviously trying to cultivate some kind of Birdman of Alcatraz thing, but later we realised he was a bit nutty and gave him a wide berth.

Dad's presence was quite strong all weekend. He was definitely in the park and round at mum's and, while there was a strong sense of sadness in the air, it was good to ride around the park and find spots that brought back fine memories of an excellent childhood.

Cycling generates £3bn for the UK economy...

Photo: Press Association.

According to a report on the BBC News website, cycling generates nearly £3bn a year for the UK economy, according to a report by the London School of Economics. Click here for more...