#3 The joys of cycling in London
A turning point in my day-to-day in London was taking up cycling.
Out of necessity at first, to becoming a pleasure, and an integral part of my way of living.
At the time, I lived by the river and took the tube up north, for 30 minutes (the London commuter’s average is 45 minutes). So not too bad. Until… a tube strike was announced. How am I gonna hustle my way to get to my desk?! It must not involve:
- 3 hours standing inside a bus which resembles one of those scary gym classes playing heart attack inducing music, and people cycling their way to get out of that aquarium
- A much less meaningful and scenic Camino de Santiago, across a frustrated mad town of already inclined complainers
- One of the above, plus punching someone, or myself, and go back to bed
Whilst playing with all route variations on Google Maps the night before, I saw the ligh! I saw my saviour. It was in the shape of this tiny white man riding a bicycle:
And the rest is history.
Two years have passed, and I am a self-confessed snob who refuses to take the bus or the tube unless I’m planning on having more than a couple of beers.
I can praise cycling the same way some people swear by meditation and invisible bras.
I started looking at the city as a whole, and not separate by its tube stations. My hopeless sense of direction means I constantly get lost and discover hidden gems, quiet parks, small art galleries, non-gentrified markets, and the residential areas away from all the buzz.
I feel like a tourist and like a local, simultaneously.
Plus, it should be patented as the ultimate cure for morning grumpiness.
However, not everyone is on the same boat (or on the same bike…) as me.
The biggest myths around cycling in the city tend to be:
- IT IS SO DANGEROUS
- It’s always raining what a faff
- I don’t want to spend money on an expensive bike
Despite the visual barrier that the lycra fanatics might induce, I’m happy to dispell the latter myth (for the first myth, the salmon-pink newspaper has the research here).
The bike itself it’s really not important. I have had a vintage foldable bike, a child-sized pink Peugeot, a single-speed, a £20 mountain bike, a brand-new men’s road bike, plus both shared Boris bikes and dockless bikes.
One after the other, I was able to find the most suitable at the right time. And London is big enough that someone will always buy your previous bike from you (thanks Gumtree!).
Below are the bike tales and iterations I have gone through in the past two years:
- Selling the first bike I bought at Camden Cycles because, although foldable, it was too vintage thus too heavy to carry up the stairs, and small wheels scared me
- Sadly saying goodbye to a child-sized pink Peugeot, because it was way too small for me, and semi-permanently damaged my left knee
- Researching for the most simple bike for commuting with the help of the local and amazing Full City Cycles, and finding a single-speed Python
- Digging the web for a fail-proof, insurance-included, thief-spitting bike lock, because the precious Python was stolen overnight
- Forgiving the London Metropolitan Police for having removed my £20 mountain bike that was locked in front of a pub, and taken to who-knows-where (it sat there for over 3 months, fair enough)
- Being given a hybrid Teman bike by a friend, which needed much TLC
Getting the train back from Welwyn Garden City because my dose of TLC wasn’t enough, as the wheel rim was bent and puncturing any tyre I’d put in there (it’s a mystery how I even got up there)
- Looking for groups to cycle with, on Meetup.com and britishcycling.org, and going on a couple of rides with them
- Brush up my skills on a bike maintenance course at my favourite place, Look Mum No Hands
- Riding over 100km to Cambridge and Whitwell, and not having to take the train back (win!), despite my entire body demanding it
And I feel like this was just the start.
What’s next is a long ride, which I have dreamt of incessantly. Across Portugal, from the most northern point, touching East, and down south. The first draft is here:
So far, deciding on where to stop has been solely based on how quirky the town name is.
8th of June
