Addington Square.

During collection for the C.C. recycling project (more of which later in the year), we came across  Addington Square in Camberwell, South London; a nice buffer to some of the grottier parts of south London.

A Gulf State

A recent visit to catch up with old friends living in the Middle East (as opposed to the Near East). Like many Europeans, I have a somewhat romantic view of the desert, no doubt reinforced by frequent viewings of a certain David Lean classic. Peter O'Toole was even staring on one of the in flight movies, except this one was the tragic Venus with the brilliant Leslie Phillips. How friendly the BA staff are these days, and how awful the temple to consumerism is that calls itself terminal 5. I only wish it was terminal.

Consumerism didn't end with Heathrow, and it was sad to see some of the rubbish strewn around the desert. How ironic that most of it was of American origin.

I'm forever grateful to my hosts for an amazing experience though, so thank you to the 'Mac' family.

(And no, I didn't photograph a camel; and the row of stones make a line in the sand.)

Shadow in the Garden.

Here's a Pic of the Day, in lieu of a post.

In the Middle of the Night

In the middle of the night, in the middle of the winter, I dream of the summer that's on its way: picnics on the Downs; badminton nets made from a bit of string and grass stems; cow parsley everywhere, and the smell of dew on grass. Not long now. Thanks go to P.V. for the badminton net, and the Freans for a lovely picnic.

Cycling

A random selection of cycling photos....

Top of the pile is Sir Rocco Forte (photographed for How to Spend it Magazine) who is well into his 60s but still getting up at 6.30 to either cycle or swim as part of his triathlon training.

Why don't Berliners wear cycle helmets? Because they have cycle lanes, so don't come into contact with drivers, some of whom are lethal. I've resisted putting a picture of one of London's bendy busses here. Enough said really.

Chilly cycling conditions for a change in early February, here in London.

And if you worry about your bike getting nicked, take a leaf out of the Policeman's notebook, and hand cuff your cycle to something sturdy (not a policeman).

Cycle lanes, English style, have to be shared with buses, taxis, and now motorcyclists too. Rather cramped these days.

Instead, why not go to work on a moose?