An early morning appointment with Pete the Greek, the demon barber of Brixton.

I say appointment - I simply strolled up at 8am, and then five minutes later and the deed was done.

Job's a good un, etc.

Billie Jean was playing in the background on some crappy Gold station. The number two on top, number one on the sides took less time than it took Micky J to tell us that any fatherhood claim against the kid is a load of pants.

Now That's What I Call a Haircut.

I was actually early for once for the Brockwell Park Run. I ponced around a little outside the lido, pretending to do some stretches and get in the zone.

Truth be told and all that I want to do is leg it around the park, and then bsee how far the pre-race diet of three cheapo Cornish pasties from Lidl can get me.

I shot my load.

The race was underway and somehow I was leading. For about 10 metres.

I never know where to position myself in the field of 200+ runners. You either get boxed in or overtaken by the real athletes.

Not a great time - 30 secs or so off a PB.

My reward was a dip in the waters of Lake Brockwell.

It was absolutely beautiful.

I delayed my dry dive entry by about five minutes for a poolside chat with my good friend @peterintheswim. He had just majestically managed 1km of the lido, with the temperature hovering around 15 degrees - breast stroke as well.

We both savoured the moment as the South London sun radiated down on us at the deep end. I commented that there was nowhere else in the world that I would rather be right now.

I sounded like a bloody Jesus Jones song.

Meant it, though.

My misty-eyed unashamed love for the lido got the better of me for my own entry. I was still slightly tearful as to how much this place can move me when I flopped into the water.

A gallery of Lido Cafe gawpers probably spat out their coffee, such was the comedy moment.

Not much time for a serious swim today. Mid-October remains my absolute FAVE time of the lido year.

Or is that mid-August?

Hey hoe. I tend to say the same thing each month.

The summer crowds have buggered off back to Brixton Rec, the water is clear from one end of the 55 yard pool to the other, and the temperature is just perfect.

Once we get below 15 degrees then the water needles start to penetrate any naked flesh. I have vowed for a winter season without a wetsuit over the coming months.

The lido locker room chat was as entertaining as ever. It's great to observe the difference in social behaviour against a pre or post lido swim crowd.

Those undressing ahead of a dip are deadly serious; the opposite is the happy clappy post-swimming crowd who are as high as a Brockwell Park kite.

A brief porridge stop back at base, and then I walked from Sunny Stockwell up to the Elephant. I could have cycled, I could have caught public transport. But I fancied a walk along a stretch of Transpontonia that is rapidly changing.

Waiting for me at the other end was @richardgallon. The Boy About Town knows his North / East and soon to be West London.

He is South London ignorant.

I was about to change all of that.

We had a pre-arranged Way We See It photo shoot down the Walworth Road. The real WWSI was mothballed many years ago now (gosh).

But we like to occasionally revive the spirt and meet up for some social snaps.

We walked from the Elephant end down to Camberwell, shooting away at whatever caught our eye. The decaying shop fronts and roofs were a prominent feature.

I politely mentioned to Richard that perhaps the East St market traders wouldn't take too kindly to a big f-off SLR being poked in their face. I think that we did rather well to only raise suspicion from one shop owner, and even then we were only snapping at her shop sign.

All of that finger pressing was hard work. Our reward was some pie 'n' mash from Arments. Rich went for the gravy option, and even upgraded 10p for the kidney to add to his steak pie. I pointed out that he had paid precisely 10p for the luxury of what was inside his pie.

It was a decent meal, all eaten with some useful exchanges of ideas for work solutions.

And then it was all aboard the pink 'n' blue bus as the cry went out for:

To Transpontine del Curva!

Truth be told and Dulwich were absolute bobbins against a very well organised Bognor side. An early second half goal for the away team was enough for them to take the three points.

It was more of a social catch up with @Darryl1974 and @clogsilk also coming along, plus a special surprise guest appearance from the always entertaining @oneeyedgrey. I didn't recognise my lido buddy with his clothes on.

I opted for the 37 bus home. It crawled through Herne Hill with the same haste that it did two decades ago.

A little more online twaddle for Saturday evening as I explored some of the ideas passed on by Rich earlier in the day.

I've got a passport to Pimlico for tomorrow, Comrades...

Last built: Sun, Jan 31, 2016 at 3:11 AM

By Jason A.Cobb, Saturday, October 11, 2014 at 4:52 PM. Reallll soooon now...