Cycle Ways: The Thames and Beyond

So far, you have seen the wonders that are the trip from my house to the Thames. From now on, you'll see the North London streets that make up "The Square Mile" (The square mile of London that is the original city back in the baby days of the city)

Here's the view over the bridge, from South to North London:

I cycle over Southwark Bridge, which is between Blackfriars Bridge (to the left) and London Bridge (to the right). I actually really love Southwark Bridge, it might just be my favourite. The reason is that nobody ever seems to use it. It's not very well known, and sometimes in the evening you can be the only person walking over the bridge and looking out over London. I love it.

Here's the view looking to the left of the bridge, you can see St Paul's Cathedral peeking out.

Here's the view to my direct left:



And here's where I felt like a bit of a tourist with other morning commuter cyclists having to swerve around me... The view to the right with Tower Bridge in the background and Canary Wharf to the left in the far background.:



Past the bridge and properly into the square mile, this is the Bank / St. Paul's area of London. Banks Galore! When the G20 was here and there were riots, this area was cordenned off in case of trouble.



Stood at the cyclists / pedestrian crossing looking left towards St. Paul's. See it in the background there? I always use the clock to see if I'm running on time :)



Up on over the crossing, and we're cycling right in the middle of suit-man city. It's difficult at times not to accidentally run one over (because, of course, they always assume that YOU will stop for THEM, because they're wearing a suit and they're very very impotant, don't you know!)

Up ahead the white building is Guildhall.



After that, we ride around a couple of small streets and wend our way onto Moorgate: (Looking North on Moorgate)



And looking back towards Bank...



This is usually a pretty busy road and I have to keep my wits about me, so I didn't take any pictures on this one, I'm afraid. I thought you'd appreciate me being alive to write this post (not really mom, hehe!) Just this one:



Almost there, guys! Just a couple small roads to go, this is the easy part. We make sure to avoid Old Street roundabout, because going through there would just be crazy! So we take the back roads that no-one seems to know about.



One more little crossing. I don't know if they have them in the States, but in London some pedestrian crossings are also used by cyclists.



Here's the road that my work is on - a little courtyard that you can't quite see on the left.



This is a I'm-tired-just-arrived-at-work-need-to-take-a-shower-but-do-this-real-quick-first picture of the courtyard that I work in.



Here is the front door of where I work - looks diddy, doesn't it?



And a sneaky picture of my bike parked up out front:



Well thanks for joining me on this journey through London... hope you enjoyed it!

Soundtrack to this post: Kate Nash and Brigitte Aphrodite

Cycle ways

So this post is mainly for Allison, to show her my route to work on my bike.

Here goes...

Here's my front door with my bike in front of it. I am in love with my bike, it's a nice little Sit-Up-And-Beg (that's really what they call it) Dutchie bike. It's imported directly from Holland and my oh my do I love it! I feel like I'm floating above all the traffic and enjoying a leisurely cycle wherever I go. I'm excited about the day that I can afford a lovely basket to go on the front.

This is my road. Pretty, quiet and leafy. So here is where start on our daily journey to central London. You got your helmet on?



Here I am at a traffic light. It doesn't look like it, but this hill is a bit of a killer on the way in to work on a morning. FYI, Sainsbury's is just on the left.

You having fun yet?



...And this is from the top of the hill. See that guy walking up with his bike? That happens a lot.



And here's the hill down again. Fun in the morning, no so much fun coming up again. This hill is the main reason that I have lost a stone in weight since cycling to work.



So I am now realising how long this will take if I show all the pictures, so I'm gonna start being a little more discerning. Let's just say there are lots of cute small roads that look very Londony.

This is a park that I ride through. This is the park looking very very messy, post festival. But hey, that just adds to the London feel, right?



Naughty park! Being so dirty the day that I take a picture of you!



London houses and London streets



Pretty churches...



This is the first leg of my journey through South London - I now cross over the bridge and take you on a journey through the City and onto Old Street.

But you'll just have to wait for the next exciting leg of my journey...

(Read: This took a really long time and I'm missing out on the sun outside so I'll continue later)

An attempt

One thing that went through my mind over and over and over while I was in India was, the less people have, the happier they are.

I was travelling to the poorest of poor in India. These villages were small, poor, and seriously discriminated against. We work with the children of families who are the lowest caste in the Hindu caste system – called ‘Madiga’ or ‘Arundhiatier’. I cannot even start to explain the caste system here, because it would probably takes years or months or 10,000 blogs to talk about them. What you need to know is that this caste system is ancient, and despite us thinking modern life has changed things, it hasn’t. These people are called the ‘untouchables’ and are forced to live very separate lives from their higher caste country-men. Obvious ways that they are discriminated against are the fact that they live in a small community on the outskirts of the village, they are not allowed to drink from the same cups that others are – they drink out of plastic rather than steel. Their children attend the same schools, but are not allowed to eat from the same plates as the other children.

The caste differences has absolutely nothing to do with skin colour, as a foreigner nothing can be seen as different about these people. They are seriously discriminated against, and their lives are a daily struggle that they have no other choice but to accept.

In the eyes of the beautiful children we met, in the handshakes of the dozens of women who came to sit with us – these people knew true beauty. They knew beauty in the soul, in their eyes. I told our Indian colleague that I thought these people seemed so happy. She told me that it is a two-edged sword. These people were happy, yes, but just on the other side of happiness is deep loss, deep sorrow, deep trauma. The only reason they can be this kind of pure happy is because they had been the opposite of that.

We spoke to a woman who had been left by their husband, separated from her sons, and had to work hard labour in the fields for hours on end everyday – in the burning sun, in the pouring rain. She was only able to see her sons once every month, even though they were only 1 kilometre away from where she lived – we had seen them 10 minutes before we came to her house. She cried with joy when we showed her the pictures we had taken of them on our camera. She cried with sorrow when she told us her story. She cried of pain when she explained how her husband had beaten her because she was of a lower caste than him.

Looking in these women’s eyes, there is TRUE beauty. There is sorrow that they feel so deep, but they carry on with life and they have hope. She had hope that she would see her sons again soon, she had hope from the social worker we came with, that she had someone to be friends with. She had her support from the other villagers who had come to watch us speak with her, and earnestly trying to protect her although they couldn’t understand our words. Here, everyday life is a struggle. Being a woman is a struggle. Being poor, being born into this village is a struggle.

All the numbers of people we met who had literally nothing, continued to offer us whatever they had; their just-brewed chai tea, welcoming us into their tiny mud huts, pride and joy and anticipation just to talk to us.

It is difficult not to do some soul-searching here. To remember what is important. Remember that it is not the end of the world if I can’t afford to buy some new clothes. I have a home, I have a husband who really truly does love me, I have a job where I get paid, I am rich. Although I don’t feel like it, I am truly rich.

If I have to chose one thought, one lesson to stay with me after coming back home, it would be this one. To live life content, to live life happy knowing that SERIOUSLY, we have it good. To seek the important things, to remember the faces of people I met and the light in their eyes. We are people, we are all the same. The difference is that I was born here, they were born there. We should look after each other; there is no excuse for treating each other differently.

And most importantly, we are rich.