Trip 6: Watford and Watford Junction

A broken spoke is the most annoying thing that can happen to a bike. Not fatal in itself, but potentially so if it remains untreated – another will go, then another, and eventually the wheel will collapse. And in London you can never find a bike shop that is willing to immediately take your money. It’s always ‘come back on Saturday’ or ‘our mechanic is on his month-long holiday’. Where are the friendly neighbourhood bike mechanics who do minor repairs in a few minutes? They seem to exist in every provincial town. Perhaps they’ve been chased out of the capital by high rents.





For Trip 6 I tried a new navigation system. Map out the route on Google Maps (it’s ‘walking’ directions are the best, though not comprehensive as they don’t include off-road bike paths). Study that route – study it hard. Look at it like you’ve never stared at a screen before. Then figure out the key points and write them down on a post-it note, handily available in the front pocket to check at red lights and other opportune moments. This should limit the amount of time waiting for the iPhone to find itself, co-ordinating your real-world location with the electronic map location, or just trying to find yourself on the blizzard of paper scraps that is a printed-out Transport for London map.












So here’s the Edgware road again and the back streets of Willesden, the vegetarian Indian restaurants of Hendon and the ignored 40 mph speed limits of the northern suburbs. Watford and its sibling Watford Junction, which has an ugly office building tacked to the top of it, almost like they were running a competition to see if they could make a train station look worse than all other train stations. We have a winner. But still no spoke.

Trip 5: Bank, Tower Gateway, Aldgate, Stratford, Upminster

Nobody should cycle through the City of London unless they have to. But there are three nearby stations on my list, so I had to. Dodging aggressive taxis and aggressiver city dudes, I was at the first stop in five minutes.
Now I have no objection to financial workers getting into the office on time, but I do wonder whether there was any better reason for the Waterloo and City line (of which Bank is one of two stations - and is thus a terminus) than shuttling people to work in the morning. And if that's the case, why does the Chelsea-Hackney line remain perpetually on the drawing board, when there must be plenty of nannys and baristas on East London buses?
Oh well. Public transport rarely makes sense. I went by the shiny Tower Gateway, a rare Gateways that actually looks like a Gateway, and then hiked the bike up the one-way Minories to Aldgate. After this little rat run, through the chaos and smell bath of Whitechapel, and then a straight shot down nicer roads than in my previous East London encounter.
Stratford is busy and will only get busier, and today everyone's scurrying around trying to avoid the rain. Further out, a big sign on Becontree town hall brags that the council has not raised taxes. Across the street a sad housing estate has too many windows and not enough glass. Looks like one council should probably be spending a bit more.
Upminster is an end-of-the-line station that resembles a mid-line station because of the overground that shoots through way out into Essex. Not even a chip shop, and even the WH Smith is closed at a relatively early hour (a straight ride, like I say, plus I must be getting faster).

Trip 4: Amersham and Chesham

I suggest drinking half a dozen pints then waking up early to cycle long distances. It works.
Today began not from the centre of town but from the homestead. I think I will be forgiven for this bit of cheating as today was also the longest ride yet; to the far reaches of the Metropolitan Line.



I made an early rediscovery: the Grand Union Canal. I think the next challenge will be cycling the whole length of it; Saturday morning it was quiet, and I shot out to Wembley in no time.



I managed to find a few quiet roads to get through Hillingdon (which is roughly the size of Poland). But every turn seemed to take me up another hill. My reward came on the other side of the M25. Farms, horses, blackberry bushes (although only 1 berry in 10 was edible).



But the true indication that I was no longer in London came when an absolute stranger said hello outside Amersham station. Goodbye big city.
From there it's a mercifully short couple of miles to Chesham, and the furthest extent of the Tube.


Chesham has probably the smallest station on the Underground; me, an old lady and her dog barely fit inside. We're out there all right, and it's a long way back.

Trip 3: Waterloo, Clapham Junction, Morden, Wimbledon, Richmond

This was always going to be one of the fun ones. South to Wimbledon and back up through Richmond. Parks, pubs and side streets all the way. Well some of the way. Probably on the part I missed out due to getting lost.
I blame Transport for London. Unoriginal but true. For this time I decided to use their travel maps. For cycling, they're next to useless. The printer spews out sheets and sheets in near random order (always north to south, even if your route is south to north). You end up with something that is basically a jigsaw puzzle. Not the most convenient thing to be speeding around with.
Over the bridge and Waterloo first. I'm starting to wonder if by photographing rail termini, I'm attracting the attention of the authorities at all. Is anyone snapping my picture on CCTV? The cops haven't grilled me yet.





Waterloo isn't the busiest station in the UK; that's Clapham Junction. A few twists and turns (TfL suggest going over Lambeth Bridge, then back over Chelsea Bridge, then oh nevermind) and I'm there. Then it's a long smooth shot to Morden. You know the one. The end of the Northern Line, you're waiting for the Tube and you want the announcer to say 'MOR-DOR' instead of, well, Morden.



A short sprint over some tram lines, another wrong turn, and Wimbledon, and then really got interesting after that point. Through Wimbledon Park, where I took a wrong turn - totally myself to blame on this one. Thinking I had chanced upon a shortcut I went down a path signed 'cyclists allowed - give way to pedestrians'. Usually if cyclists are allowed you think the path is a decent one, ie, cyclable. This one was, but barely. I freewheeled 10 minutes down a loamy gravel and dirt track, reminding myself that I've got to adjust those brakes. No pedestrians in sight, which is good because I wasn't giving way to nothing.

It was getting late and I was put further behind by Richmond Park closing at the odd hour of 8:10 p.m. Around the park then, the long way. Even now, the days are getting ever-so-slightly shorter, and so once again it was the District Line home.
An updated map, with routes and everything, is here. More than 26 miles and that doesn't include all the wrong turns, so this one was longest ride yet.

More visuals

List of stations now on Google Maps. Watch as visited stations magically turn from red to green.