I want to ride my bicycle

It’s been biketastic this week. I ride in to work every day and like a bit of a cycle. This week I used it at lunch to get a bit further before starting to have a look around by the river on foot. Unfortunately I forgot my camera. From St. Paul’s I managed to get up to Westminster Bridge by bike and then walked up to near Chelsea Bridge and back. It’s very residential round there but very pretty. I also interrupted a couple getting down to business, but I can’t guarantee they’re there every lunchtime so won’t divulge the address.

What if they want to go to different tweed shops?

What if they want to go to different tweed shops?

My interest in cycling was also piqued by an exhibition in the curved outdoor gallery of the Museum of London. Having only a half-hour lunch on Friday, I thought I’d stretch my legs and see what it was all about. It turns out that the Museum encouraged people to send in pictures of cyclists and then commissioned a very talented artist, Ugo Gattoni, to create a set of images using these as a basis. A bit surreal, a bit bonkers, and very nice. W

Freaky innit?

Freaky innit?

I like them

I like them



Faraday in a box

Faraday in a box?

Why is the statue of the great Michael Faraday on Savoy Place been boxed off for the last week or two? Anything to do with him dying on the 25th August 1867 perhaps? Any ideas why the plastic sheeting? P

Keep it soft!

tough like rambo
Walking through London’s parks I’m noticing more people keeping fit with their personal trainers. Park benches are put to use by doing sit ups on them, alongside old plant pots, concrete slabs and fallen branches used as alternative gym equipment. I reckon it won’t be long before the councils crack on and start charging them for using the facilities!

The other week I watched a chap doing press-ups while his Rambo type trainer (acting like he wanted to be ex-SAS but probably was ex-accountant) was looking the other way eyeing up the females walking past, flexing his pecs and preening his gelled hair while screaming “101, 102, 103” at the poor sweaty bloke on the floor.

This Monday lunchtime in Lincoln’s Inn Fields I passed five women all wearing matching fluorescent lycra doing synchronised “crunches” in a circle, with their trainer sitting in the middle barking instructions to them Sergeant major style. All around them sat office workers having their sarnies who looked a bit shamefaced as they weren’t “working it”.

Never mind all this macho hardman nonsense, big up the softness! Especially the nice Brazilian chap who does Taiji (in his office gear) in the same park tucked away in a corner keeping his head down and getting on with it! P

Indonesia calling…

indonesia on a plate

Yesterday I treated myself to an international nosh-up at the LSE 4th floor canteen. The drill is, walk through the main LSE entrance in Houghton Street keep your head down until you get to the lift, then press floor 4!

The above dish cost just under a fiver with a bottle of fizzy water. Two skewers of chicken satay with some nice spiced rice all consumed on the outside roof terrace of the canteen. I felt I was on holiday! P