Journey to the centre of the earth. 12 September All Day ride to the Meridian

 

On Saturday, a few hours before Colin was leading some Beginners around twenty eight churches on the annual churches ride, twenty eight of us set out in groups of six or fewer on another annual tradition that had just scraped survival in the post-Covid nightmare.  For in a year in which everything seems to have gone haywire it fell to me to assume Harry’s legendary mantle and take on the annual Greenwich ride.  In order to maximise access to riversides and parkland, to minimise time spent on main roads through the town centres, and to come back a completely different way, it was necessarily a complex route; I used the best I could remember of Harry’s route there, and for the return trip shamelessly plagiarised Ged’s Wayfarers’ London Ride of last year.  We would have had a full house of thirty but Linda had reported slightly unwell and could not risk that she might have Covid, and Gillian missed the 8.45 wagon train from North Cheam, so we were twenty eight, organised into five groups. 

We were blessed in a number of ways.  It was the weekend before the new Rule of Six came into effect, so for the last time in a while we could be just a little more relaxed (though still socially distanced) about briefly gathering in greater numbers than six at Beddington Park.  The weather was perfect for cycling; light breeze, bright day, not too hot, and no forest fires.

Karen captures a rare picture of camera-shy group leader Tony

The North Cheamers had been ferried over by Helen, Steph and John and the departures from Beddington were marshalled by a super-efficient Maggie while I ate a bacon sandwich.  Tony’s group left pretty promptly at 9.30, followed at fifteen minute intervals by Helen’s, Tim’s, Simon’s and then mine.

 

Simon's group at Kent House.  Note the gender distribution 

That's a better balance....Tim's group

Central Croydon, central Lewisham, and busy Deptford and Camberwell had to be faced head-on and we wound our way around the back streets of Rotherhithe, Stockwell, Brixton and Tooting but morning coffee at the charming little cafe next to Kent House Station was reached via the disused railway track through Addiscombe and by cycling through South Norwood Country Park.  The track along the River Pool took us to Catford, where the centre can be avoided using a bridge under the road, and we all picked up the parks alongside the River Ravensbourne and climbed through upper middle class houses to Blackheath for lunch.

Tony's group plus two photo bombers

The Hare and Billet was very strict and not entirely logical on Covid regulations and entry took a while because our groups had all but caught each other up so that we arrived close together.  Though we had booked tables, it was a wonderful day to sit out on Blackheath.  We had a short riverside jaunt and went home along the path of the old Surrey Canal and, after Brixton, the commons of Tooting and Wandsworth and along the Wandle Trail from Earlsfield.

 

Helen's group.......

........mixing with Paul's; still legal on Saturday!

But those were merely the mechanics.  We saw where St Elphege once preached; Archbishop of Winchester and then Canterbury, we saw the Hawksmoor church built, it is thought, at the site of his murder by the Vikings when he had told his people not to pay the extortionate ransom demand.  For two hundred years his shrine in Canterbury was the main reason for pilgrimages there and it is said that Thomas a Beckett prayed at it on the day of his own murder.  We sampled Brixton on a sunny Saturday, Reggae music and beach (yes, beach) parties.  We saw Brixton Prison and the unofficial plaque on its wall commemorating Terence MacSwiney, the Irish playwright and Lord Mayor of Cork, who died there in 1920 after 74 days of hunger strike.  We went to see the petrified tree on Wandsworth Common.

 

Who'd have thought it was there, behind Brixton Prison? The Windmill, that is....

We all agreed the best bit was Brixton Windmill.  Anna had seen its sails between the houses in her younger days but most of us had no idea it was there; it took me four recces and Simon’s Garmin to find it because you cannot see it until you come across the little field in which it stands, still grinding flour as it did two hundred years ago.  And the best thing about it was a proper mug of tea for £1.

 

The ride leader searches for the missing group while Inder sits in the shadow of Peter the Great

The complexity of the route meant that each group had to overcome its own little hiccoughs, from unnecessary fraternisation with Croydon’s tramlines to an early detour for afternoon tea and a shortcut home when the sun began to sink in the sky.  But the tradition of Greenwich rides has been kept going for another year.

Thanks to leaders Simon, Tony, Helen and especially to Tim, who stepped in at a moment’s notice.  Simon won the prize for being the only sub-leader to complete the entire course in the correct order!