Saturday

That was a day.

Up early on Saturday morning. The folk in the flat below were still partying.

Steady the buffers, etc.

The plan was to MOST DEFINITELY NOT attempt to break my PB once again at the Brockwell Park run.

It was pissing it down and so I gave it a rain check anyway.

Phew.

I plodded around on a King of Clap'ham Common route instead.

Fifteen or so years ago I use to run this route every weekend. I remember always overtaking on the circuit an old boy who was gently jogging around, completely at ease in his world as the Bright Young Things of SW4 sped past him.

I have become that plodding old fella.

I feel very comfortable in this.

The penny-pincher within decided to BOYCOTT having a shower in the flat.

I cycled off to the lovely lido instead for a brisk ten lengths and a free shower, kindly paid for by Fusion Leisure.

The water was choppy, but surprisingly warm at 15.1 degrees.

I never understand the science that leads to rain raising the water temperature.

A cycle ride back to Sunny Stockwell to hang out the wetsuit, and then back out towards the town centre for Reclaim Brixton.

Woh.

Where to start?

Probably with the Brixton Buzz blog post.

The event itself was everything that I wanted it to be: diverse, inclusive and mostly free of violence.

Don't believe all of the crappy headlines that the mainstream media knobbers have been attempting to frame the story around.

This is such an in-depth issue. You can't solve gentrification in a single march, let alone a bloody blog post.

But it did feel like a tipping point after the ten year Nu Labour experiment that has been doing so much damage in Lambeth.

From a working point of view I was pretty pleased.

Mike and I divided up the time as we both has other commitments elsewhere.

My plan was to snap EVERYTHING, spunk out endless tweets, whack out some Vines and try grab some audio.

I managed all of this, as well as hitting the self-imposed deadline of having it all online by 3:30pm.

I could quite easily still be blogging now, editing pics, re-writing the re-writes and trying to create a blogging masterpiece.

But you just need to get the story out there, then move on.

On a purely personal front I was so pleased to bump into my old University pal Gary N. I knew that he was back in the area but haven't seen him about.

It was slightly rushed, as were most of the conversations.

Apologies folks - I was running around making sure that I didn't miss anything.

The 3:30pm deadline was ahead of a rendez vous with @richardgallon by the South Bank. We had long since arranged a photo shoot and a general social catch up.

The stretch from Blackfriars to London Bridge was bloody heaving. Photographing folk from the hip is no great challenge and is just plain rude.

We took the strategic decision to walk the backstreets of Bermondsey. We were rewarded with some wonderful backdrops of what is remarkably a slice of South London that refuses to gentrify.

Booze followed.

And then just before 7:30pm, out went the shout of:

"To The Globe!"

I thought that I was seeing the Comedy of Errors. I thought this all the way through until the interval when I realised that it was old Shylock and The Merchant of Venice.

Whoops.

It rained ever so slightly, but not sufficient to spoil the experience of being back at the Wood O.

I'm very excited about the new season ahead.

Knackered.

That was a day.


Last built: Sun, Jan 31, 2016 at 3:08 AM

By Jason A.Cobb, Saturday, April 25, 2015 at 5:46 PM. So, it has come to this.