In which case you definitely need a gearing aid TT - no-one gets left behind!
We might leave you in front but that depends on
whatever mikee decides (it is his ride after all). Love you mikee
Anyway. Norm - get the train into town and come with us.
I did some of this yesterday and it was really interesting. A bit of "George Orwell lived here", followed by a touch of "Look Keats" - red...like this:
To Autumn
John Keats
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Yep - we can pass by Keats House (
He died age 25 - what are you waiting for - get out and ride!)
I headed toward Parliament Hill Fields from Kings X and into the quite restrictive park and out, and into Hampstead Heath. A slight touch of gravel. Think of "champignons a la greque"...this is gravelly but NOT "gravelly a la dellzeqq" - ie: it is mild. Anyone who dared do the Bank Holiday ride to nowhere will know how I grade gravel...
Anyone with great eyesight can pick out ChrisKH doing a spot of shorts adjustment at the Gherkin over yonder...
then we hit the cyclepath along Spaniards Lane and hang it to Millionaires Row AKA THE Bishops Avenue..AKA 'Little Moscow'. Modest living like
this
gives way to
Roehampton, Danebury Neighbourhood,
on the way to
Richmond Park
where one might be lucky to spot a rare species: a
Dynamos Londinium Politum - they do exist apparently.
After that, it's out to Ham it up and Kingston / Bushy Park (The monument is encased in plasticius sheetingus at the moment)...maybe some food just outside here? dunno - but it is over to
mistral for the lead out to dinner and beyond...
mikee's mates were hanging around looking decidedly 'fixed'...
(The Jolly Farmer might have to wait - it's a long slog)
Raffle still stands - wherever we lay our helmets.