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Diamonds Are Forever
Each signpost points to somewhere I was either a few minutes or an hour or two ago, and quite often both. A back and forth route that almost retraces and crosses itself but never quite meets. A series of incredibly familiar lanes, like a list of old friends in an address book; St Helena, Streat,…
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Little
I’m soaked and distracted and I’m not sure I exchange any pleasantries as I stick my head round the door of the pub and bluntly ask “Are you serving coffee?” “Yes,” is the answer. “Awesome,” I respond before sticking my head back out the door to tell Jim the good news. – – – “Wanna…
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James Bond and cheap Jelly Babies
The rising sun gently lifts mist from the frosted hinterlands, the angular shapes of Arundel Castle stand out against the hill curving through the clear sky. I’m on an early train to Chichester for February’s ‘Randonneur Round the Year’ attempt: Buck Barn Sutton Scotney 200. It’s a week later than planned, thanks to storms Eunice…
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Road Closed
Ah fuck it! The road is actually properly closed. Tall metal barriers span the darkened sunken lane. It’s always a risk riding past ROAD CLOSED signs but with a bike you can almost invariably get past somehow. More often than not it’s only closed to cars and pedestrians can get through, but over the years…
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Bateau | Vélo | Chemin de Fer
South France calmly rolls around the horizon… It’s good to be riding on the wrong side of the road again, a smile on my face as I spin through the streets of Dieppe for the first time in over a year. I’ve missed the sight of the illuminated red diamond tabac and green cross pharmacy…
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Riding with Ravilious
We sweep down from the opera singer’s house past Virginia Woolf’s to the Ouse flood plain, the first of our Ravilious rendezvous. A heron nonchalantly flaps overhead. The riverbank into Lewes is beautifully overgrown, my shins whipped by wild grass and flowers. Butterflies skitter about. We’re the wrong side of the Ouse for the Ravilious…
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Messing about on the river (and the canals)
Watching an upside down world pass by on my left, the sky below me, heading to the south west skirmishes of London. The eastern end of a canal I rode along as a kid. A startled heron flaps away low across the water. “No Fishing”. The way temporarily blocked a feeding family of geese. Houseboats…
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Winding Back
In the last post about Eurovespa I mentioned watching a couple of ’96 Tour stages on the side of the road. I found the negatives from a roll of film I shot at the time in a shoebox and had them scanned. Video of Stage 14 Video of Stage 15
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Frimley – San Remo
From deep in the archives.. Found some old scooter stuff in a box under the bed, including a bunch of photos and write up of a trip to Italy in a copy of a scooter club ‘zine. Twenty five years ago and bits still ring true from bikes tours since. Transcription below – how handy…
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Winding On
An old point and shoot, one roll of film. A week off work. Aeroplane mode, wider world switched off. Perhaps an audiobook in one ear. The sun stays close to the wide crisp horizon, bright light skims the surface of the sea followed by my eyes. Low waves lazily sparkle and ripple towards the shingle.…
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