Saturday, 13 April 2013

Sweat, no blood, but almost tears.

Cloudy London in April
When woke up today and saw the absence of rain--although my friend Fifi insisted that it would rain this weekend--I decided to take a little cycling trip to the west of London. It's a good exercise and since I'll be more often in the west--Hammersmith to be precise--I thought it would be nice to test the way and time.
Well, after studying the maps for a mere thirty minutes, I was nowhere more clued-up. As you know I'm terrible with directions. And yes, I'm one of those women who hold a map upside down to know where they have to go. Not that it would help matters, I still have a 99% chance of getting lost.
However, I was determined to make it happen; the trip, not getting lost (!) and, after a good breakfast and one more look on the online map, I was ready to go.
Cycling Guides for free from TFL
It's been a while since I cycled to Camden, and I must have pushed the excruciating uphill experience I had the last time I did it deep into the back of my head, only to be confronted with it today. By the way: I have no idea why, but a guy started a conversation with me, making me jump. It's the second time in two weeks that that happened. I've been cycling through London for the past five years, but all of the sudden men start chatting me up, randomly. And I swear this time it couldn't have been my arse crack. He first talked about the weather, then started firing questions at me. I wonder what tickles someone to start a conversation with someone's back; I never had the urge to talk to someone when cycling. I may mutter something under my panting when when I'm fighting my way uphill and someone, much faster, overtakes me, scaring the shit out of me, but I normally listen to music and am in my very own world.
No, don't worry, I pay attention. I can sing along and still cycle safely.
Anyway, I managed to get to Hammersmith, sort of directly, if it hadn't been for the stupid one-way streets in
Camden that forced me to push my bike for a while until I reached Regent's Park. Was a little miffed I didn't bring money as London Zoo was calling out for me. I left it behind and cycled through the park, then went on to get to Hyde Park and finally was on the right way along Kensington High Street. Gee, I tell you, it felt like the longest road ever. All I could think of was: urgh! and I have to cycle all the way back, too.
The Royal Albert Hall
To make matters worse, I began to feel thirsty and hunger started to nag at me. When I reached my destination after 1.5 hours, I turned and cycled back, passing The Royal Albert Hall. Since I've got good memories of one of Einaudi's concerts there, which I
visited with a friend, I sniggered to myself and took a picture. Mind you, still cycling, scaring that poor woman, who, I guess, is a tourist, and probably thought I'm a few sandwiches short of a picnic.
I got lost in Regent's Park's Inner Circle, which means I literally cycled in circles and was ready to sit on the kerb and cry. But since I'm writing this now, you know that I've made it home safe and sound, I fed and watered myself, but I'm proper knackered. Three hours cycling through London is recommended if you have difficulties sleeping. I know I will sleep like a log tonight.

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