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Published: July 17th 2006
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Bike
If you own this, give me money. My theory is correct and the thorn burrough conceals my whereabouts and gives me plenty of sleep for once. St Albans is probably quite nice, but i only give myself time to give a self guided tour of the nearby cathedral.
London is surrounded by the wretched Motorway and it only takes a little while to reach and cross over it. The land nearby is actually sparsely populated and has lots of horse trails, but the menacing shadow of London is nearby. It is no secret that with each passing day I become more bitter to nearly everything and everyone. Most people would be ecstatic when going to London for their first time, but I am dreading fighting through throngs of people. Within the hour I am even more bitter as my damn bike has another flat tire. It takes all of my mental energy to keep my composture and I wonder if there is even a point to bringing it any further. Instead of pushing the bike down hills I ride it on the rims as if to teach it a lesson for ruining my day, but perhaps it just shows a descent into madness.
Eventually anything
resembling open space disappears and the busy streets of London are upon me. Every mile is more densely populated and pushing a cumbersome bike is difficult, so I decide it is time for us to part. Part of me thinks that I will go no further than London and there is no point in keeping track of it while here. It can't be worth much so instead of trying to sell it, I simply leave it. However not without first attaching a peice of paper reading "please steal me". As dumb as it is to leave it behind I feel relieved to have fewer concerns on the mind.
It takes until 6 pm before I even begin to get close to the Thames and the part of London which most people know. Along the way an internet shop gives an hour of internet access for a pound and I get caught up with a few friends. Even though it is a cliche the idea of just worrying about today is reiterated in my head through a friends email. A few hours of walking later brings me near the Thames and I am no longer the only tourist, but one of many. Being an architecture student of sorts I drink in the design and craftmanshop of the wonderful structures of London. I seem to have a strange obsession with domes and take lots of pictures of St. Pauls cathedral and for the first time I shed my inhibitions about being a tourist and just enjoy the experience. My only concern is my lodging for the night because the extra walking has done a number on my feet and it has become almost too late to find a good hostel. Even worse I have not seen a hint of any green space in at least 8 hrs. The small patch of trees beside St. Pauls looks dangerously tempting, but even I'm not that desperate.
Anyone who knows even a little about London knows of Hyde Park and if its big enough to capacitate the Live 8 concert then surely I can find a spot to sleep if need be. If only I were here a few weeks ago to witness the short lived ruenion of Pink Floyd. Finding the park would be as simple as buying a map or even asking somebody, however some take pride in their stubborness.
The main attractions of London are all in a condensed area, but it still takes hours to travel along the Thames and find your way around. It is close to midnight when i pass by 'Big Ben' and the British Parliament. Quite a sight to behold, but my only concern is that damn park. There is an open lawn surrounded by a cast iron fence just behind parliament and it is locked at night. Looking for somewhere to rest my feet I scale the fence and sit inside the gazebo inside. If caught I will probably land myself in jail, but noone bothers me as I climb back out half an hour later.
Finally I ask a woman where i can find a park to 'rest my feet' , she tells me that hyde park is too far and that i can find a small park just over the bridge. No park is found over the bridge, but I lay down underneath some bushes by a church. Now I try to be fairly politically correct when it comes to race, but I will admit to being very nervous in black neighbourhoods at night. In the distance I can hear two women arguing loudly in the street and I say to myself "I'm going to get killed tonight" and promptly return to the Thames. From there I follow a few false leads for other parks and am still wandering the streets at 3 a.m. I have been walking for about 18hrs and my legs yearn to rest. It is then that St. James park comes into view and my heart leaps for joy. Apperently this is homeless central as there are lots of people sleeping out in the open. I am not as brave as them and slip into the bushes and finally sigh in relief. Not even a minute passes when I see a shadow ominously standing a few feet away. It does not move, and neither do I , we are at an impass. A full minute of nothing and I'm about to disregard it as a shadow when it starts entering the bushes.
"Hello mate" I say, he then tells me that he sleeps here everynight and I tell him that I will relinqish the spot. He actually seems like a cool guy and tells me to keep it. Referring back to my number 1 rule of sleeping spots I also decide to move. Never did I conceive that I would be bantering with a homeless man for a spot in the bushes. I find a vacant bush on the other side of the park and get into my sleeping bag at blinding speed. Hopefully I don't get stabbed in the night, because I really feel like going home.
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