Journey to the Ends of the Earth

Oh, OK, it wasn't the ends of the Earth.  It wasn't even one end of the Earth, it was just outside the M25; but that is a place called Not London, which may as well be an end of the Earth when one lives in Harringay.  And, there be dragons (fair enough, no dragons - but there could have been!)

More on that later - first, the big news from Thursday.  After our slightly more eventful than usual journey into work, involving stupid other cyclists, arguments and a nearly terminally lost bolt, I had the dilemma of knowing that I had to get my bike home and knowing that James wouldn't be there to escort me.  It was very tempting to wimp out, leave it folded and get on the train, but no!  I did not!  I came to the conclusion that carrying my bike on the train was actually going to be more hassle than riding it, so I donned my ridiculous Lycra (I'm actually getting used to it now), unfolded the beast, dropped the same bolt again and spent 10 minutes finding it, and was on my way.  I had the most uneventful journey home that you could possibly imagine until I got to the end of my road and I did finally wimp out.  To be fair, turning into the road is quite hard, even for the seasoned cyclist - it's a right turn, just over the brow of a hill, the hill is relatively steep and as you turn the corner, you're coming off a vicious speed bump.  There was loads of traffic, I was stuck on the inside, and frankly I couldn't be bothered, so I pulled up on the left, crossed over on foot and then cycled down my road to the front door.  But still, I cycled home on my own!

Yesterday, I had a well deserved rest day.  This morning, I woke up very grumpy.  I still don't know why, but everything was far too much effort and James more or less had to put me into my Lycra and frog march me out of the door (after an exceedingly healthy breakfast of cherry and fruits of the forest yoghurt and Battenburg cake).  We set off along the same route we took last weekend, towards the Lea Valley Park, with one little twist - instead of walking to the end of the road and heading for Finsbury Park, we cycled down the road and turned right onto Green Lanes.  For the uninitiated, Green Lanes is a busy trunk road and shopping street that heads from central London out towards the North Circular and beyond.  The bit where we live is extremely busy on the weekend with people driving there (why would you do that?), walking there or taking the bus there to do their grocery shopping - there are pedestrians everywhere, loads of buses and plenty of car doors unexpectedly opening.  So far, it's been an absolute no-no for me.  Today I attempted it, and survived.

We went through Stamford Hill again, and although we were slightly later in the day than on our previous visit, there were still plenty of folks walking down the middle of the road (I may have to bill the Synagogue for a new bell).  Once we got to the river, it was apparent that it was much less busy than last weekend, probably because of the 15 degree drop in temperature and the presence of some rather miserable looking clouds.

We cycled out to the point where we had turned around last time, and decided to continue forward, to the promised land beyond the bus garage.  It was clearly a condition of the planning permission for the bus garage that the bus company must renovate the towpath along the length of the site. Unfortunately, although it is a very nice bit of path that they've put in, it isn't very wide and it is completely open to the water on one side, with no grass verge and no railings.  We decided to use the adjacent road on the way back!

Me at the Sun Inn.  The pint belongs to James.
Sorry about resolution - taken on mobile!

At this point I should probably mention that we weren't entirely sure where we were going.  We knew where we were, but we hadn't settled on a destination. We carried on for a while longer, passing under the North Circular, and then James saw a signpost for Waltham Abbey.  This rang a bell with me, as I knew that Waltham Abbey was just outside the M25.  Outside London.  In Essex.  In Not London.  So, that's where we went.  We got off the river at Waltham Abbey, and went into the town.  We got some useful maps and info at the Tourist Information Centre, had a quick look at the outside of the abbey church (there was a wedding on, so we couldn't go in) and then stopped for lunch at a pub called the Sun Inn (recommended as cycle friendly as long as you don't mind sitting outside - they've got a nice courtyard and don't mind the bikes or the fluorescent Lycra).  We had a decent burger and a nice sit down, and then set off on our journey out of Not London back to London.

On the return journey I nearly killed a dog.  I didn't though.  I have good brakes.  It was a tiny little thing, the sort of dog I usually refer to as a "rat on a string", except this one had the string missing.  It ran straight in front of my bike at the last second.  Someone was watching over me and the little chap.  A bit further along, we saw another dog, this one enormous, quite happily yomping down the towpath unaccompanied.  Once it realised we were alongside him, he thought we were the best thing ever and ran with us for a mile or so.  Eventually, we came across his master, also a cyclist, who had stopped to wait for the dog.  We also stopped for a drink at this point and the dog and I became properly acquainted - he was an Alaskan Malamute, very hairy, a bit wet (I think he'd been swimming or paddling) and very, very soppy.

We stopped for an icecream just before turning off the river and attempting to go up Spring Hill (the one where we had the incident with the driving school car before) - I made it up in one go this time.  Now I'm sitting back at home, watching the football and my day seems a bit surreal - we went to a whole different place and back, under our own steam.  Total distance: 22.64 miles.  Nearly 37 kilometres.  A Long Way.