Thursday 16 July 2020
16/07/20: Totteridge
On the daily walk I saw the usual abandoned face masks littering the paths. So nice to also see a woodpecker.
Thursday 23 April 2020
Wednesday 22 April 2020
22/04/20: Scenes from the daily lockdown walk: free books
Totteridge. Books being given away on a wall.
Thursday 16 April 2020
Saturday 4 April 2020
Friday 27 March 2020
27/03/20: Scenes from the daily lockdown walk: Thank you NHS
Totteridge. Very moving to see this. As the lockdown continues it is touching to see the ways local people have reacted. Children have written messages in chalk on the pavements outside the houses of their friends and relatives. They have also painted rainbows and left them in their front windows. And someone had set up their own hand-sanitation station on their garden wall with cleaning chemicals barrels of water for anyone passing.
This kind of disaster seems to bring out the best in people, despite everything. That's not the case for our Great Leader, though. I hate the way he keeps saying "our NHS", given the way the Tories have treated the NHS over successive governments. I am sorry to hear that Boris has the virus, but will he be queuing up for hours in a crowded NHS waiting room for his treatment? I very much doubt it.
Sunday 22 March 2020
22/03/20: My first half marathon (unofficial)
I finally ran a half marathon today – unofficially, that is – along the pavements, through the parks and beside the rivers near where I live.
After countless strains and sprains, a recent ITB problem saw me spending five weeks on the injury couch and meant that I had to pull out of the Big Half (1st March). The charity kindly moved my place to London Landmarks (29th March), but then that – like everything else – was of course cancelled/postponed because of Coronavirus. So, having spent the last five weeks getting back from zero K to a decent distance, I decided to run my own private HM.
The good news is that I came first.
The bad news is that I also came last.
I set off at about 7:15. The weather was cool and sunny – pretty much ideal. I felt like it might just be possible, but decided to just see how it went and not make too much pressure for myself.
My son ran with me for the first 5K, which was nice. He’s full of beans and makes me laugh. Then he went home and I carried on alone. It was just me, my music and the path ahead.
At about 8–9K I looped back past the front of my house to sip from a pre-placed bottle and pick up a snack.
My playlist threw out some gems. Really enjoyed Simon & Garfunkel singing “The Sound of Silence” and “I Am a Rock”. The latter seemed especially appropriate in these self-isolating times. “Hiding in my room / Safe within my womb / I touch no one and no one touches me / I am a rock / I am an island.”
People I passed were no less friendly than usual, but I did notice a few people steering very clear of one another. One runner ran past wearing a face mask. I wonder if that still works, given all the sweat and so on.
At about 12–13K into my route, the trees and houses fell away from the track and the effect was like entering an empty plain. The result was that a wall of wind was suddenly blowing right into me. This was tough, but I got back to the more covered area and rewarded myself with the peanut-flavoured Nakd bar I’d collected earlier. (Is it just me, or is it difficult to chew food and breathe at the same time?) Not actually sure if this snack had any reviving effect, but I kept on anyway.
Just me, the music and the path ahead.
David Bowie came on, singing “Let’s Dance”. Funny how lyrics jump out when you hear them in a different context: “And if you say run / I’ll run with you,” he sang.
At 18K I passed my previous best distance, which I’ve hit twice. I was slowing down a lot by now but forged on anyway.
“We’re on a road to nowhere,” chanted Talking Heads.
The last few kilometres were on the streets where it all started for me: the same roads I nervously panted along during Couch to 5K last year. It was a strange feeling to be trying this very different kind of run on those same streets.
By 20K I was a bit delirious and stupidly missed a turning I had planned to take. As a result I found myself later running up a close I should have been running down. It was so steep that I refused to continue that way and ended up doing a comedy U-turn, then improvising the final bit to make up the necessary mileage.
I finished on my own road and was very happy to leap into a hot shower.
I didn’t get a medal or a T-shirt, and there wasn’t any cheering along the route or at the finish line, but I do feel pleased to have finally hit this milestone.
After countless strains and sprains, a recent ITB problem saw me spending five weeks on the injury couch and meant that I had to pull out of the Big Half (1st March). The charity kindly moved my place to London Landmarks (29th March), but then that – like everything else – was of course cancelled/postponed because of Coronavirus. So, having spent the last five weeks getting back from zero K to a decent distance, I decided to run my own private HM.
The good news is that I came first.
The bad news is that I also came last.
I set off at about 7:15. The weather was cool and sunny – pretty much ideal. I felt like it might just be possible, but decided to just see how it went and not make too much pressure for myself.
My son ran with me for the first 5K, which was nice. He’s full of beans and makes me laugh. Then he went home and I carried on alone. It was just me, my music and the path ahead.
At about 8–9K I looped back past the front of my house to sip from a pre-placed bottle and pick up a snack.
My playlist threw out some gems. Really enjoyed Simon & Garfunkel singing “The Sound of Silence” and “I Am a Rock”. The latter seemed especially appropriate in these self-isolating times. “Hiding in my room / Safe within my womb / I touch no one and no one touches me / I am a rock / I am an island.”
People I passed were no less friendly than usual, but I did notice a few people steering very clear of one another. One runner ran past wearing a face mask. I wonder if that still works, given all the sweat and so on.
At about 12–13K into my route, the trees and houses fell away from the track and the effect was like entering an empty plain. The result was that a wall of wind was suddenly blowing right into me. This was tough, but I got back to the more covered area and rewarded myself with the peanut-flavoured Nakd bar I’d collected earlier. (Is it just me, or is it difficult to chew food and breathe at the same time?) Not actually sure if this snack had any reviving effect, but I kept on anyway.
Just me, the music and the path ahead.
David Bowie came on, singing “Let’s Dance”. Funny how lyrics jump out when you hear them in a different context: “And if you say run / I’ll run with you,” he sang.
At 18K I passed my previous best distance, which I’ve hit twice. I was slowing down a lot by now but forged on anyway.
“We’re on a road to nowhere,” chanted Talking Heads.
The last few kilometres were on the streets where it all started for me: the same roads I nervously panted along during Couch to 5K last year. It was a strange feeling to be trying this very different kind of run on those same streets.
By 20K I was a bit delirious and stupidly missed a turning I had planned to take. As a result I found myself later running up a close I should have been running down. It was so steep that I refused to continue that way and ended up doing a comedy U-turn, then improvising the final bit to make up the necessary mileage.
I finished on my own road and was very happy to leap into a hot shower.
I didn’t get a medal or a T-shirt, and there wasn’t any cheering along the route or at the finish line, but I do feel pleased to have finally hit this milestone.
Saturday 11 January 2020
11/01/20: North Finchley
After a satisfying round of charity shopping, I caught the bus home from North Finchley and remembered again why I don’t use buses:
1. had to wait for it.
2. banged my head on a mirror.
3. had to sit next to a boy eating stinky fried chicken.
4. had to walk home from the bus stop anyway.
5. same fare no matter how few stops you travel.
1. had to wait for it.
2. banged my head on a mirror.
3. had to sit next to a boy eating stinky fried chicken.
4. had to walk home from the bus stop anyway.
5. same fare no matter how few stops you travel.
Thursday 5 December 2019
05/12/19: Election fever
Emerging from Totteridge and Whetstone tube station on Thursday night I was surprised to see a small political demonstration taking place. About 20 people were crowded on the other side of the road from the tube chanting "Corbyn is a racist, Corbyn is a racist, tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la". Some police were there as well but no trouble by the looks of it.
Tuesday 19 November 2019
19/11/19: A year of steps
After exactly one year of recording my daily steps, my app reveals the following:
Total steps: 4,555,679
Total miles: 2,127
Most steps in one day: 27,327 on 05/05/19 – the Big Fun Walk
Total steps: 4,555,679
Total miles: 2,127
Most steps in one day: 27,327 on 05/05/19 – the Big Fun Walk
Sunday 23 June 2019
23/06/19: Angry farmer
A nice walk around Totteridge. Following the public footpath between the two stables we encountered this sign:
....and the gate had been tied shut. I asked a man working at the stables and he said that one of the farmers had done it. This is illegal: a public right of way cannot be closed off at the whim of an individual. The stable man went off for a few seconds and came back with a sharp, jagged knife with which he started hacking at the thick string. He got through it and we were able to pass through the gate.
We then still managed to go the wrong way through the field until eventually making it to the other stables (where horses’ heads hovered above their low-cut doors) and – after climbing over another fence because there were pallets in the way – to the bridlepath beyond.
It was a warm, muggy walk home.
....and the gate had been tied shut. I asked a man working at the stables and he said that one of the farmers had done it. This is illegal: a public right of way cannot be closed off at the whim of an individual. The stable man went off for a few seconds and came back with a sharp, jagged knife with which he started hacking at the thick string. He got through it and we were able to pass through the gate.
We then still managed to go the wrong way through the field until eventually making it to the other stables (where horses’ heads hovered above their low-cut doors) and – after climbing over another fence because there were pallets in the way – to the bridlepath beyond.
It was a warm, muggy walk home.
Wednesday 24 April 2019
24/04/19: New trees
Whetstone. I trudge up and down this pavement twice a day, and so it was very uplifting to see six new trees planted on the pavement between Boots and Waitrose. More of this, please!
Thursday 24 January 2019
24/01/19: Slippery Totteridge
Totteridge looked beautiful in the snow with the sun rising. The river path was covered in black ice. I trod carefully, but still managed to slip, smashing down on my back. A couple of dog walkers offered annoying comments and were no help at all as I laid in shock and agony in the mud. Then a kind man came and helped me up. I staggered home.
Sunday 6 January 2019
06/01/19: Sinister Totteridge
At first I thought they were snowmen. But there was no snow. No, they were four or five white-robed figures performing some kind of ritual on the far side of the field. There was bowing. They wore white hats. I found it very creepy.
Saturday 5 January 2019
05/01/19: Totteridge to Brent Cross
Walked 5.6 miles along the Dollis valley Green Walk from Totteridge almost as far as Brent Cross.
There were egrets, herons, robins, blackbirds, blue tits, moorhens and a thrush, among other birds.
It was lovely, apart from all the overflowing bins.
Why are these not being emptied?
Other things of note:
• A small tot aimed a stick “gun” at us.
• Saw two “lost cat” posters.
• Found two carrots resting on a tree.
• Passed a large white dog wearing a bow tie.
• Saw a child riding a mini-motorbike (a real one).
• Got a bit lost where the river forked in Hendon but a kind man pointed out the correct route.
• Got the bus home.
There were egrets, herons, robins, blackbirds, blue tits, moorhens and a thrush, among other birds.
It was lovely, apart from all the overflowing bins.
Why are these not being emptied?
Other things of note:
• A small tot aimed a stick “gun” at us.
• Saw two “lost cat” posters.
• Found two carrots resting on a tree.
• Passed a large white dog wearing a bow tie.
• Saw a child riding a mini-motorbike (a real one).
• Got a bit lost where the river forked in Hendon but a kind man pointed out the correct route.
• Got the bus home.
Sunday 4 November 2018
04/11/18: Galleries and museums
Most of the walking I did in the last week was around museums and galleries. I started on Tuesday at the Bob Dylan exhibition, Mondo Scripto, on New Bond Street. This is a fascinating collection of sketches by Dylan illustrating specific lyrics from his songs, which he had also written out in full beside the images. These pencil artworks are oddly literal – often not an interpretation of the song, but of one specific line or image from the song – but they were far stronger than his paintings, a few of which were also displayed. The exhibition also presented some of his metal sculptures and a short film – a very glowing summary of his career, with no new insights, but enjoyable to see nonetheless. The thing that probably made the biggest impression on me was the wall of books about Dylan assembled next to the staircase as additional furnishing. It was amazing to see books I have sought out for years, alongside others that I’ve never seen anywhere except for on my own shelves. Surprisingly, there was no gift shop. They surely could have sold Dylan CDs, Dylan postcards, Dylan tea towels and “I heart Dylan” fridge magnets. Instead, they had a £1,500 collector’s edition (4,950 copies printed) of the museum guide that was somewhat outside of my price range. Well worth seeing, the exhibition is set to tour the world after this initial London run.
Two days later I tubed to Elephant and Castle for the Imperial War Museum. While they had plenty of impressive objects on display, I found the arrangement cluttered and difficult to follow. It didn’t help that there were thousands of people trying to see the same things. It suffered from the modern museum plague of overlapping audio sound effects and commentaries fighting for your attention. I would far prefer to be left with my own thoughts, especially when the subject matter is as serious as this. The museum also suffered from mixing large- and small-scale exhibits. There simply weren’t enough tanks, bombs and planes, but a chunk of mangled debris from the Twin Towers was a memorable sight.
A walk around the harrowing Auschwitz exhibition turned into a sort of bad dream when I was unable to find the exit and kept circling the same disturbing exhibits again and again in search of the door…
A far more satisfying experience was this morning’s visit to the RAF museum in Hendon. I’ve been here many, many times and it’s to the organisers’ huge credit that any modernisation has been undertaken without diluting the experience. The sense of scale lacking at the Imperial War Museum is overwhelmingly present here. Everything is huge. As you walk around aircraft hangers with massive bombers looming over you, you see what military hardware really looks like. It was shortly after opening time, so the hangars were deserted. There were no audio commentaries, sound effects or flashing screens to distract or annoy, so you could just absorb what was in front of you (and above you) without interruption. Since my last visit, there had been various improvements: part of the car park had been grassed over, the flow between various hangars seemed more logical and orderly, and a new restaurant had opened up. But all the old favourites were still there to marvel at – the Provost T you can sit inside, the vast Vulcan bomber you can walk beneath, the colossal helicopters you can wander around and the various ponytailed male plane enthusiasts loving every detail.
Two days later I tubed to Elephant and Castle for the Imperial War Museum. While they had plenty of impressive objects on display, I found the arrangement cluttered and difficult to follow. It didn’t help that there were thousands of people trying to see the same things. It suffered from the modern museum plague of overlapping audio sound effects and commentaries fighting for your attention. I would far prefer to be left with my own thoughts, especially when the subject matter is as serious as this. The museum also suffered from mixing large- and small-scale exhibits. There simply weren’t enough tanks, bombs and planes, but a chunk of mangled debris from the Twin Towers was a memorable sight.
A walk around the harrowing Auschwitz exhibition turned into a sort of bad dream when I was unable to find the exit and kept circling the same disturbing exhibits again and again in search of the door…
A far more satisfying experience was this morning’s visit to the RAF museum in Hendon. I’ve been here many, many times and it’s to the organisers’ huge credit that any modernisation has been undertaken without diluting the experience. The sense of scale lacking at the Imperial War Museum is overwhelmingly present here. Everything is huge. As you walk around aircraft hangers with massive bombers looming over you, you see what military hardware really looks like. It was shortly after opening time, so the hangars were deserted. There were no audio commentaries, sound effects or flashing screens to distract or annoy, so you could just absorb what was in front of you (and above you) without interruption. Since my last visit, there had been various improvements: part of the car park had been grassed over, the flow between various hangars seemed more logical and orderly, and a new restaurant had opened up. But all the old favourites were still there to marvel at – the Provost T you can sit inside, the vast Vulcan bomber you can walk beneath, the colossal helicopters you can wander around and the various ponytailed male plane enthusiasts loving every detail.
Sunday 7 October 2018
07/10/18: Whetstone to East Barnet
I walked from the allotments in Whetstone down to the Everyman Cinema in Barnet and then turned right past Barnet fire station (and a boy in a Batman hat), toward East Barnet.
It was a cold and windy morning, but rather nice in the sun. The endless roar of traffic started to get to me after while – it’s not just the noise but the smell of carbon monoxide and the thought (in the back of my mind) of what this is doing to my health. Then again walking is good for your health, so maybe these things balance out somehow. I was pleased to find 20p in the road. It made a change from the usual condom wrappers, discarded kebabs, Nerf gun bullets and Lucozade bottles, although I saw all of those as well.
In East Barnet I stupidly waited for North London Hospice charity shop to open. It didn’t open at the scheduled time (10:30) and after lingering a few minutes I wondered what I was doing with myself and continued walking. I turned left down to East Barnet Library, then swing back round to East Barnet Village.
The gun shop is still there, bizarrely positioned next door to a police station. Just what the world needs in these troubled times.
Another charity shop was still closed (Cancer Research), making me think I should have done this walk an hour later. I turned right out of East Barnet past the signs for lost cats Boris and Bubbles (maybe they ran off together), and took the litter-strewn railway bridge back in the direction of Oakleigh Park Station. It was then a simple uphill jaunt back to Whetstone.
It was a cold and windy morning, but rather nice in the sun. The endless roar of traffic started to get to me after while – it’s not just the noise but the smell of carbon monoxide and the thought (in the back of my mind) of what this is doing to my health. Then again walking is good for your health, so maybe these things balance out somehow. I was pleased to find 20p in the road. It made a change from the usual condom wrappers, discarded kebabs, Nerf gun bullets and Lucozade bottles, although I saw all of those as well.
In East Barnet I stupidly waited for North London Hospice charity shop to open. It didn’t open at the scheduled time (10:30) and after lingering a few minutes I wondered what I was doing with myself and continued walking. I turned left down to East Barnet Library, then swing back round to East Barnet Village.
The gun shop is still there, bizarrely positioned next door to a police station. Just what the world needs in these troubled times.
Another charity shop was still closed (Cancer Research), making me think I should have done this walk an hour later. I turned right out of East Barnet past the signs for lost cats Boris and Bubbles (maybe they ran off together), and took the litter-strewn railway bridge back in the direction of Oakleigh Park Station. It was then a simple uphill jaunt back to Whetstone.
Monday 1 October 2018
Saturday 15 September 2018
Thursday 6 September 2018
06/09/18: Steps
I haven’t had many thrilling walks lately, so decided to count the steps, upward and downward, in a typical working day.
Here's the tally...
Totteridge & Whetstone tube entrance (street level) to Northern Line platform (southbound): down 32 steps.
Exchange at King's Cross from Northern Line (Bank branch) to Piccadilly Line (westbound) via broken escalator: up 32 steps.
Exit from Earl’s Court station to street level – lift to “ticket hall level”, so no steps, then up 8 steps to the way out.
Entrance from pavement to Tesco on A4 to buy lunch: up 5 steps.
Exit from Tesco to pavement to head for office: up 6 steps.
Going from pavement to business area: down 29 steps to security door, then up 10 steps to where the offices start.
Pavement to office: up 21 steps.
Lunchbreak: office to pavement: down 21 steps.
Browsing in Waterstones: down 20 steps, up 20 steps.
End of lunchbreak: pavement to office again: up 21 steps.
End of day: office to pavement: down 21 steps.
Business area to pavement: down 10 steps to security door, then up 29 steps to the main road.
Pavement to Earl’s Court tube platform (District Line): down 24 steps.
Exchange at Embankment from District Line to Northern Line (northbound): down 22, then up 3 to escalator.
Totteridge & Whetstone tube platform to pavement: up 32.
•Total up: 187 steps
•Total down: 179 steps
Here's the tally...
Totteridge & Whetstone tube entrance (street level) to Northern Line platform (southbound): down 32 steps.
Exchange at King's Cross from Northern Line (Bank branch) to Piccadilly Line (westbound) via broken escalator: up 32 steps.
Exit from Earl’s Court station to street level – lift to “ticket hall level”, so no steps, then up 8 steps to the way out.
Entrance from pavement to Tesco on A4 to buy lunch: up 5 steps.
Exit from Tesco to pavement to head for office: up 6 steps.
Going from pavement to business area: down 29 steps to security door, then up 10 steps to where the offices start.
Pavement to office: up 21 steps.
Lunchbreak: office to pavement: down 21 steps.
Browsing in Waterstones: down 20 steps, up 20 steps.
End of lunchbreak: pavement to office again: up 21 steps.
End of day: office to pavement: down 21 steps.
Business area to pavement: down 10 steps to security door, then up 29 steps to the main road.
Pavement to Earl’s Court tube platform (District Line): down 24 steps.
Exchange at Embankment from District Line to Northern Line (northbound): down 22, then up 3 to escalator.
Totteridge & Whetstone tube platform to pavement: up 32.
•Total up: 187 steps
•Total down: 179 steps
Wednesday 18 July 2018
18/07/18: Barcelona (day two)
I took a second brief stroll around the Barcelona city centre, enjoying the remarkable architecture.
I also had a quick look at the football stadium.
And just in case it seems like I'm romanticising the place too much...
I also had a quick look at the football stadium.
The nearest thing to a park that I could find was a small sandy space with benches and trees, where I met this little green bird.
And just in case it seems like I'm romanticising the place too much...
Tuesday 17 July 2018
17/07/18: Barcelona (day one)
On a work trip, managed just a brief stroll through the streets of Barcelona. I was impressed with how many trees there were in the city centre and how lovely much of the architecture looked. Surprisingly, it was no hotter than London. The last time I saw this many scooters was when I was in Florence.
.
Wednesday 11 July 2018
Monday 9 July 2018
09/07/18: Earl's Court posters and stickers
Roaming around Earl's Court and West Kensington, I see various signs and messages.
1. "I demand a vote on the final Brexit deal"
You can demand all you like, but it doesn't mean that you'll get what you want. Clearly the government has no idea whatsoever what to do and is ploughing ahead with the myth that the 51.9% knew what they were voting for. In fact, the day I took this picture the Cabinet imploded with the high-level resignations. Who know what will happen? Certainly not Theresa May.
2. "You know where you are? You're in the jungle, baby."
I became oddly obsessed with this massive poster advertising the reissue of a Guns N' Roses album from 1987. Never cared for the group or their lousy music, but this huge slogan on the A4 is so daft that it really grabbed my attention.
3. "Florence + The Machine – High As Hope"
Less eye-catching than the above, but interesting to see that music is getting such big promotion these days.
1. "I demand a vote on the final Brexit deal"
You can demand all you like, but it doesn't mean that you'll get what you want. Clearly the government has no idea whatsoever what to do and is ploughing ahead with the myth that the 51.9% knew what they were voting for. In fact, the day I took this picture the Cabinet imploded with the high-level resignations. Who know what will happen? Certainly not Theresa May.
2. "You know where you are? You're in the jungle, baby."
I became oddly obsessed with this massive poster advertising the reissue of a Guns N' Roses album from 1987. Never cared for the group or their lousy music, but this huge slogan on the A4 is so daft that it really grabbed my attention.
3. "Florence + The Machine – High As Hope"
Less eye-catching than the above, but interesting to see that music is getting such big promotion these days.
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