Angus in London

In my last post I wrote about taking up cycling as part of a plan to escape penury. It worked. I got out of the financial hole I was in, and took my bike when I moved back to London to work at the BBC in White City. I moved into a beautiful house in Crouch End, which is now my favourite part of the city.

Angus, a 3-speed bicycle

Home - Glasslyn Rd

I like cycling in London. It has a tangle of smaller streets around the main arteries, and many of these are closed by bollards at one end to prevent larger vehicles passing through, which leaves them quiet and safe for cyclists. If you need further assistance navigating safe routes throughout the city, the Mayor's office distribute maps which show quiet streets suggested by other cyclists.

What really recommends cycling in any city are the things you see and hear around the streets, particularly on a bike with an upright riding position. Early one Sunday morning I was riding through a residential street in Highgate, and I stopped at a junction near three shabby middle-aged drinkers. Their staggering gait and rumpled appearance strongly suggested that they were valiantly extending their Saturday night celebrations, but two of them - a man and a woman - were clearly losing motivation and lagging behind a more enthusiastic leader who was dressed in a manner strongly reminiscent of Compo from Last of The Summer Wine.  I wait at a junction as these three walked on a nearby pavement, and one of the laggers shouts ahead, "are you sure this is the way?"

Compo

Compo replies in an Irish accent. "Ah yes, this is definitely the way." He looks around and notices me. "He told me we'll see a man on a bicycle at the end of the street and it's just up ahead after that."





I continued to use my bike as part of my journey to work. In addition to saving a few bob, this releases you from delays imposed by traffic and public transport, so you can be more consistent with the time you arrive for work, and when you get home. The BBC has a free shuttle bus service for its employees that go between the various BBC buildings, so I would ride my bike to Broadcasting House, near Oxford Circus, put my bike in the secure lock-up there, and catch the bus to Media Centre in White City. My route to work was brilliant. Here are some photos from it.

the city from Suicide Bridge, Hornsey Lane

Highgate Cemetery

Chester Road

the entrance to Holly Village

Holly Village

Red brick multi at Malden Crescent

Waiting for traffic lights to change to cross over to Malden Crescent, I notice a couple on a scooter getting frisky

Camden

Oval Road, by Gloucester Crescent, where Alan Bennett lives

Sculptural pediment of Regent's Park terrace

Passing Regent's Park

  Terrace on the Outer Circle

Park Crescent

Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) Building on Portland Place

Falun Gong protesters outside RIBA, opposite Chinese Embassy

All Souls

Broadcasting House - Destination

Bike parked

Angus, Angus, Angus

Dee gave me a copy of David Byrne's Bicycle Diaries, where Byrne describes his pushbike explorations of several of the world's cities. It's very entertaining, and prompts me to write about some of my experiences with bikes.

I was very young when I learned to ride a bike, so cycling feels like a natural physical action. My dad took my brother and I to see E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial at the pictures, and it was about this time that I coveted a BMX and happily received a Raleigh Burner or Christmas. I must have been around 6 years old.

Christmas BMX

We lived on the northern (Westhaven) corner of Carnoustie, with the North Sea to the east, the Angus countryside extending northwards, and the town to our south. We bought some of our groceries from a Willie Low's supermarket, and some from a farm shop. I rode my bike around country and city roads, and also to and from school. At primary school we had cycling proficiency lessons.

At high school I started to use my Dad's racer bike. Carnoustie High School had extensive bike sheds. I guess that around a quarter of pupils cycled. I don't recall anyone being driven or accompanied by their parents on their way to school; including my friends Pammy and Trev, whose mums were teachers. Even in primary school, the only occasion our mum walked with us was on our first day of school. After that we were on our own; or rather, we were with other kids, without adult supervision. 

My Dad's bike was too big for me, and I fell and broke my wrist on the way home from school. I took a corner too fast, hit the kerb and went flying towards a brick wall, stretching out my hand to save smashing my head, and breaking my wrist instead. I recently learned that medics refer to this as a FOOSH - a fall on out-stretched hand. I sat cradling my lumpy, twisted wrist as other boys rode past shouting 'Joey Deacon.' Joey Deacon was a 'spastic' with cerebral palsy who had appeared on a children's TV show, which led to his name becoming a playground insult. I sat in shock until a disabled boy called Cameron ('Spammy Cammy' - I think he may have had a form of cerebral palsy) came along, and, unaware of any irony, he picked up my bike and took me to his house, which was a short walk away, and I called my mum from his phone.

After I left school I forgot about cycling for a while, until 2006, when I was working on a project at George Harrison's former home in Henley-on-Thames. I was living in York Street in Marylebone at the time, and in severe financial difficulties. My wages would instantly be consumed by debts, and I would then accrue bank charges for breaching my overdraft, which was pushing me further into debt. It was grim. I wound up losing over 3 grand on bank charges.

I moved from London to a house-share in Reading to save on city rent costs and train fares from London to Henley. I bought a bike very cheaply on ebay (I think it was 90 pounds) from an old man in Isleworth. The bike was a 1974 Raleigh Tourist, and I decided to give it a name. The name I settled on was Angus:

Angus: a fine bicycle

People complain that they have no option other than to take their cars to work. But if you can't afford a car, you find an alternative. I would cycle from home in Reading to Twyford Railway Station, take a short train journey to Henley, then ride from Henley Station to work at Friar Park.

Angus was so named because cycling reminds me of a childhood friend called Angus Easton, with whom I used to have bike races from Carnoustie to Craigmill Den, and he beat me every time. Angus (the bicycle) had a 3-speed Sturmey Archer hub gear. The enclosed chain and mudguards meant that I could wear the same clothes at work as I wore on my ride, and the 'sit-up-and-beg' riding posture was condusive to observing the South Oxfordshire countryside, which is very pretty and definitely worth observing.

Shoe Review! Emerica "The Situation", Kevin 'Spanky' Long Signature Mid-top

FASHION! Turn to the left! There's Karl Lagerfeld's intern using a shoehorn to poke his neck wrinkles into his shirt collar! And there's Alex Perry superglueing sunglasses to his bald head! Turn to the right! And there's Coco Chanel, Hugo Boss and John Galliano kicking a jew to death! And Dov Charney getting rapey with his employees! Oh, there's Jean-Paul Gaultier, he's really funny and I love that guy. But he's the exception.

Perry - permanently wears sunglasses on head

Lagerfeld - no visible neck wrinkles

Fashion, like skateboarding, is pointless and inhabited by deplorable people. Skateboarding has its trends, and I have followed many of them. During the 'big jeans' years of the early 1990s I would buy 40" jeans and belt them around my 28" waist. Loops of denim would hang from the belt hoops, and the cut-off cuffs would engulf my shoes and trail on the ground, using science's capillary action to suck up dirty, salty water from the Scottish streets. Once I made the mistake of wearing such attire on the sticky wall ride at the funfair. While I was stuck to the wall I slipped down within my voluminous clothing, so that my skinny legs protruded as far as my knees, and my waistband was around my armpits. Centrifugal forces pushed tears into my earholes as I wept with shame. But I love skateboard shoes. I always covet the next pair. Here follows a review of my most recent purchase.


Emerica 'the Situation' shoes are Kevin 'Spanky' Long's pro-model gutties. They are a suede/canvas mid-top with a vulcanised sole and very clean lines - no stitching on the suede toe-cap. And they were just $65 (on offer from an online shop).

The shoes are produced by Emerica. I used to pronounce this 'Ee-merica' but I now understand that it is 'eh-merica'. Think a New Yorker - the kind of New Yorker who pronounces 'coffee' as 'cwaffee' and bangs taxi bonnets while shouting 'I'm walking here!" Imagine that guy saying saying 'America' - that is the pronunciation you wish to achieve. The company was not established by patriotic Americans who like taking E.

the shoes after 1 week

just 3 lace holes, you casual bastards. the toe cap is a bit ripply now

It says 'KSL' down the heel.

They're very light, and run a touch small and narrow. My perfect size is a Supra 8; these 8s are a bit smaller than that, and tight around my toes. I need to wear them laced loose or they pinch at the sides. They're nice to wear without socks, probably because there's not a lot of stitching to chafe your feet. They wore in quickly while skating, and the sole is nice and grippy. The unstitched single-piece toecap makes them excellent to slip in and out of the toe-clips on my bike .

In conclusion, I like them.