On tonight’s journey home I kicked myself not once, not twice, but… oh… probably a DOZEN times for not having my camera with me!
The first kick came when I had to stop and let four mechanics wheel a FORMULA ONE Ferrari across my path. Yes. An F1 car! About two inches from me!
When I managed to squeeze past, I was then stopped a little further on by a security guard keeping tabs on the traffic situation on County Hall Apartments (the name of the road). There was certainly a lot of activity happening: big orange barriers being put in place, men in red Ferrari overalls wandering around, onlookers stopping and staring.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked. ‘Are they planning on racing that thing?’
‘Yes,’ he laughed. ‘Tomorrow.’
‘Imagine the crowds,’ I said.
‘Imagine the NOISE,’ he replied.
Well, um, yes.
Kick number two came when I got to the intersection of Westminster Bridge Road and Parliament Square. As I sat at the traffic lights waiting for the switch to green, a bride and her husband scuttled across the intersection.
As she hurried across the road in her gorgeous white gown the bride looked so out of place among the usual THRONG of tourists that gather at that corner to take photographs of Big Ben I wished I could have captured it on camera. I could see all the backpack-adorned visitors to London thinking the same thing. But alas no-one with a camera strewn around their neck bothered to do anything about it!
Kick number three came further along my journey when I spied a female cyclist with long hair down to her bum cycling LIKE A DRUNK up Constitution Hill. It was only when I overtook her, ringing my bell to let her know I was coming, that I noticed she was steering with one hand because she was too busy holding a mobile phone to her ear in the other. And yes, she was gabbing into the phone, talking at loud volume in some indistinguishable foreign language. I think that would qualify as cycling without undue care and attention, wouldn’t you?
Kick number four occurred as I cycled along South Carriage Drive. As I stopped at a set of traffic lights a BRIGHT SHIMMERING VIOLET Mercedes, vibrating with very LOUD Arabic music, pulled up alongside me. Honestly. Never. Seen. Anything. Like. It. In. My. Life. Thank goodness I had my sunglasses on!
The fifth and final kick happened when I passed a snail-paced male cyclist WAVERING all over Kensington High Street like an unbalanced gymnast on a tightrope. He had so many shopping bags dangling off both handlebars it’s a wonder he could move the bike at all. Although it might explain his inability to cycle in a straight line. ‘Get a trailer!’ I wanted to shout. ‘Or try Tesco’s online delivery!’
Mental note: tomorrow I’m packing the camera!