London by bike

Every day tens of thousands of Londonders jump on a bicycle to commute to work, and this week I joined them on my new bike! 

Riding in London can be quite scary, as there are not nearly enough bike lanes and you're often forced to ride on busy roads and share bus lanes with taxis and London's much detested (so says Boris Johnson) bendy buses. And the quieter roads tend to be quite narrow with rough surfaces, particularly compared to those at home in Adelaide.

Nevertheless, there is a great sense of freedom on a bike with the wind in your face, and I'm sure one of the reasons a lot of drivers hate cyclists is because they're envious (particularly when you cycle past them in a traffic jam).

From Mile End, where I live, to work in Westminster is about 9km and I have managed to get my travel time down from 40 mins to about 30 mins by discovering shortcuts during the week. That's almost the same time it takes door-to-door when I travel by Tube!

There's something to be said for cycling past the Tower of London, Somerset House and parallel to the Thames each day, with Big Ben and The Eye coming into view as I approach work. I have also discovered buildings and streets I never knew existed, as you're oblivious to exactly where you're travelling when using the Underground.

Hopefully I can maintain my enthusiasm and get fit while I'm at it!

Words

It takes a while to get used to all the different terms/words they use here in the UK compared to Australia. Some of them make sense, for example, crisps (which everyone seems to eat with their lunch) instead of potato chips, removing any confusion between potato chips and hot chips. Others are just different like peppers for capsicum, clementines for mandarins, aubergine for eggplant, courgette for zucchini and mange-tout for snow peas. One I don't understand is why they call a burger a sandwich! So if you go to Burger King, a Whopper is a sandwich, not a hamburger. Strange!  

Bad habits, manners and attitudes

One of the grottier habits that I've noticed in London is spitting. People of all ages and backgrounds think nothing of spitting on the footpath, road and even the Tube platform. Personally I think it's vile and unnecessary, yet no one here seems to frown upon it. Another rude trait is carelessly bumping into people. This happens a lot when walking down the street and the perpetrators don't even try to move out of your way (they expect you to move out of their way) and when they bang into you just keep going without a care ... no hint of apology, not even an acknowledgement that they've just run into you. This arrogant sort of attitude really irks me. Courtesy costs nothing yet the bad manners and habits of some leaves me wondering just how civilised a society we are.

Aussie twang

When you work with a lot of English people, you quickly become accustomed to their accents, to the extent that you don't notice English accents anymore. Moreover, you assume that you sound like everyone else and forget you have an Australian accent. I think this comes back to self-perception: No one thinks they have an accent - everyone else has an accent! That all changes when another Australian comes on the scene. One develops a remarkable ability to identify other Australians - even on a packed bus you instantly pick out anyone with an Aussie twang. It's really comforting to find another Australian in this way and I often feel a bizarre sense of affinity as if we have a collective bond.

But the opposite can also be true. Soon after I arrived I was taking a look around Soho early on a Saturday night when I came across a loud (yelling), obnoxious bunch of morons staggering up the street. They were completely smashed (at 6pm) and although in their early twenties, were carrying on like teenagers. Everyone was avoiding them: it was cringeworthy. But then I realised one of them was wrapped in an Australian flag! (This was before I developed instant perception of Aussie accents). They were all Australian! I felt embarrassed and ashamed. A uni friend encountered a similar group on the Tube and was so embarrassed by their behavior that when they asked whether she was also Australian, she told them she was from New Zealand! 

I guess these sorts of encounters help create the image of Australians as beer-swilling louts. It is easy to stereotype in this way when people stand out because of their accent (or appearance). Yet I would argue (from what I have experienced, not just seen and heard) that regular drinking is far more ingrained in English than Australian culture.

The Chilterns

Decided to make the most of the milder weather (12C!) by heading off on another walk through the English countryside. This time I headed to Chesham, north west of London. Chesham is the furthest station (40km) from central London on the Underground, although like much of the Tube it's actually above ground.

Chesham is in the Chiltern Hills (the Chilterns for short). It is bizarre to be on a Tube train but travelling through pretty woods and rural countryside!

After a quick stroll through the town centre I headed into the green fields and light woods that dominate the area, and even made some friends ...

From The Chilterns

It was a pleasant walk. Everything (the environment and houses) felt very English.

From The Chilterns

After my dramas finding somewhere to eat in Surrey (the pub in the walking book had recently shut down), I started getting antsy about making it to the recommended eating venue (The Pheasant Inn). My destination came into sight with half an hour to spare before lunch service was due to end. But my enthusiasm was short lived ... it was dark and deserted with a note on the door. Surely not again!!! "The Pheasant Inn has been closed due to to the economic downturn." Bloody recession!!! I spoke to a local who told me there was nowhere I could buy food within 1.5 miles! Downcast, I trudged to a nearby playground to munch on my packed apple.

On with the journey! Through muddy woods I went, past farmers' fields and birds in bushes. It didn't take too long to arrive at my destination, Great Missenden, home to Roald Dahl until his death in 1990. I found a little cafe and rewarded my efforts in walking 10km with rhubarb pie. Yum!

From The Chilterns

Then the train (a regular one, not the Tube) home!

From The Chilterns

Bout of black snot

I have had my first noticeable bout of black snot. Black what, you say? Yes, it is as icky as it sounds. It's a common symptom of catching the London Undeground. All the grime and black dust in the underground tunnels gets up your nose and then comes out again! Ewww!

A taste of summer

It almost felt like summer today. In reality, it only got to about 12C but with a clear sky and radiant sun, this was probably the most glorious day in three months! I made the most of it by heading west and walking across London's oldest suspension bridge, Hammersmith Bridge. From here I strolled the muddy (but pleasant) tree-lined path along the Thames to Barnes, a pretty village-like suburb. A great way to spend an "almost summer" day, made even more appealing by teams of rowers gliding past. Next I caught the train to Clapham Junction (which oddly enough is in Battersea, not Clapham) to read The Times with a latte (yes, I wanted to sound pretentious) before heading home to Mile End. Let's hope there's more weather like this in coming weeks. Seems to make everyone a touch cheerier and shows how lovely London can be!