The Dahon Induction
As my fingers start typing this, breaking out of their icicle like state, I pour a still warm coffee from the cafetiere that I left 2 hours ago. I can scarcely believe the wild adventure my beloved Dahon Classic III has taken me on this Sunday morning whilst in corona virus lockdown
Still settling in my new pad in Surbiton I take my daily exercise as a chance to reccy new routes, to find what connects this island of convenience. Last weeks revelation was connecting to the river and Hampton court palace — todays mission is Richmond park! — Kingston gate — looks close, give it a go!
I pull out on my trusty steed in the shorts that I now live in — hoody and raincoat and immediately think ‘bloody hell, its a lot colder than It looked.’ The harsh wind I named Gertrude, slapping me with an ice-cold salmon that I didn’t see coming at all. I thought this was just a reccy, just a pootle up to Richmond park darling!
I make it into the wind blocking safety of Kingston town centre, deserted in a way I have never seen, I can only draw a comparison from the mass exodus of Detroit. Where capitalism runs scared and leaves the town it impregnated barren and empty at the first sight of trouble. I carry on through the town and navigate the notoriously complicated one way system
Turns out it is all up hill from there and only the toughest of my 3 gears are working, so standing up all the way, its turning into proper exercise, Gertrude still growling me I see Kingston gate in sight! Hallelujah, the haven of wisdom and peace, of space and exercise in an otherwise gethsemane like place of pressure.
The copper stops me at the gate!
‘No bikes sorry.’
Hey?
‘Yeah we stopped them yesterday as too many, too dangerous and can’t pressure Nhs right now with accidents.’
Well can I leave it here with you and go see the trees then?
‘How long will you be?’
10–15mins
‘Ok!’
I jog in, up the small hill, instant feeling of relief as I observe a man infantilised by a towering oak 1000 times his size. And that oak, amongst a few peers who have survived what used to be undoubtably a thriving forest community now providing shelter for a few.
I breathe out….ahhhh. man seems so small, so cute, so helpless, and our leafy big brothers, so stoic, so wise. They’ve seen this all before, the flu, the wars, the economic crashes. They are evidence that we will find our way.
Gertrude now reaching down my neck I gather pace down the hill back to the copper, I thank him for guarding the mighty dahon and off I peddle down a different path back to the barren complication. I whizz past a wall of cardboard boxes as I turn the corner — now as I look back at my selfie I can see the cardboard was there on the way out to the hills but I didn’t see it — I certainly didn’t see the woman sitting inside the walls. I cycle on — I’m off to one of the only shops that looks fresh and open — the fruit, veg and coffee stall in the market.
My conscience is running after me now, breathe-less calling me saying, ‘what have you got to do?’ why not talk to her? Believe it or not, I actually answer the voice in my head with ‘look its cool that I have friends who would do that but I work with my mind, I work on systems, I design things, that is my mission, I cant do it all, I gotta go get food back to the pad.’ — Then a third voice comes in and just says, lets do one bit at a time, go look at market stall, see whats there then think about whether or not to talk to the woman in the boxes.
With that third voice in my head, I pootled down the market, figured out what they have and naturally headed back to the cardboard walls and asked over the cardboard wall, ‘you doing alright?’
No joke, a head popped up with John Lennon lemon tinted glasses saying ‘ oh yes quite well thank you! ‘People don’t know how to survive these days but this world trains you for it’’
She went on to say ‘you need to put leggings on, its too cold, you might get arthritis as your muscles will want to contract but need to expand due to the exercise. She educated me, I listened. This had become an exchange. I felt relieved, much easier to be a friend than a charity worker.
Katherine is her name, she tells me she is 70. Been outside for 10 years outside M&S normally. We put the world to rights and she says that music is the only thing she has found that brings people together. ‘Don’t give me politics or money’ give me music! — it’s the frequency, it’s real, and it shows you who is real.’
A police car pulls up slowly, I am sure they are going to disperse us for socialising or for riding my bike in a pedestrianised area, but they roll on past and allow to continue catching this flow.
This conversation of music catches a street cleaner who stops and joins in, turns out that Khaled with origins in Somalia has talked many times with Katherine on music. We are in a jam now, Khaled recommends little Willy John as he had found it educational, explaining the routes of some of the hip hop he now loves. Katherine recommends a show on radio 4 she heard yesterday of a polish pianist who played the keys like she was at the gate of heaven and I said how this morning I listened to an hour onInstagram live of James Blake in his house — what a treat!
I shit you not — at that exact moment — it began to snow — if only for a minute, Katherine was right I should have worn leggings! what a magical moment we find ourselves in, An african street cleaner, a 70 years young irish street dweller and a dahon cruising, street rider getting blessed by natures unpredictable creativity!
Katherine said her batteries on her radio were gone and said would try to go to go wilko to try and get some along with a thermos and maybe attempt to get some hot water at some point, so she can wash her hands as the biting cold is stiffening her hands’
I thought maybe this is how I can repay her for inspiring me, I pootled off, left the dahon out the front and looked for batteries and a flask — first floor — bingo!
Now to the market stall , I ask the coffee man, as not to take the piss — ‘please can I buy some hot water from you? ‘
‘ buy some hot water?’ — we don’t sell hot water — i’ll give you some
Thank you I said.
As he poured it I said please may I have some Olives and stuffed vine leaves — now he has dignified my request and thus dignified me in my request I will always advocate for the Italian and Turkish coffee and Olives stall in the Kingston market place.
I got back to Katherine, Khaled was back, they were jamming again, she is a magnet! A wise old oracle living wild and free right under my nose! :) She thanks me and says once the weather warms up ill give the flask back to you, I know you’ll put it to good use. — I said ok! — she said next time I will show you the three beards spot I have found on the river. We can meet at the gazebo and go from there! :)
Grinning I cycle off, full of fresh vegetables and 4 avocados for £1 compared to Londis — 1 for £1.89 — bargain! And the sun is warming my face, river to my right, slight gradient leading me all the way back to my pad.
Now my fingers are warm, my heart full, certain of adventure and deeper to come, food to eat, music to experience, spots to discover and next time I see Katherine I won’t have cold knees.
The £80 Dahon Classic lll from the recycle bike shop down the road has already induced much life for me & I’m sure the best is yet to come.
