The Waiting Game Over
A chunk of my brand new adventure came to an end last week, pending pit-stops over the next few years for engine and frame checks, and hormone top-ups in between.
The Doc says there's nothing detectable of my old prostate tumour and the checkups will be every six months for now.
Phew! I hope not to do that sort of journey again. Plain old two wheels (or four, or two feet,) will do in future.
In the meantime I was sitting under the belfry in Cheapside the other day when Bow Bells started ringing. Not the usual half-muffled arrangement but full volume, for forty-five minutes. Bells built to be heard the five miles to Highgate and well beyond. Unwisely I was wearing neither earplugs nor helmet and I think one or the other is prescribed for such a venture. My ears were ringing all the way home.
And the wearing of an iPod stuffed into your ears whilst crossing the churchyard during the bell-ringing really ought to be a hanging offence. Or at least the same as jumping a red light.
"What's that? ............... you'll have to speak up dear!!"
My route to London when not on two wheels is by train to London Bridge. (There was a time when it became harder to find a space to park a motorbike than a car, and now it's even worse with the removal of lots of traditional parking spots on pavement frontages and alleys).
Right alongside London Bridge station is an impertinent little competitor to the Post Office Tower in the Tallest Building Stakes. (The Daily Mail still occasionally calls it the Post Office Tower, so I will too).
This upstart is called the London Shard, which is under construction and is now supposed to be 300 feet taller than The P.O. Tower.
Well, I don't think so.
I've walked past it many a time and it looks nowhere near as high as that good old Fitzrovia landmark.
A couple of weeks ago I alighted from the train at London Bridge and stood for a moment on the platform with my neck craned up, peering at the pointed top of this building, trying to convince myself it was taller. No, nowhere near it.
The platform cleared a bit so I walked along towards the exit at the end. Still looking straight up at the Shard's summit I could also see the edge of the platform's roof, slightly to the right. So I thought, if I could judge the angles to the top of the Shard and to the top of the platform roof, and find out how high this roof is, I'd have the answer. Good idea! Where's the Station Master?
Then I noticed the angle of the roof appeared to be changing, so quickly looked ahead again. And saw I was about a footstep and a half from dropping off of the platform and onto the track.....
Ooops!
Need a change of strategy, and I found it the other day when walking under the other end of London Bridge. Out of curiosity I nipped down the narrow steps under the bridge that descend right into the Thames. I call them 'Oliver Twist Steps' as I don't think they have a name, and that fits perfectly. Or maybe 'Bill Sikes Steps' would be better.
Anyway, about a foot from the water's edge I found a brilliant view of this new imposter of a building. So I took a couple of photos.
The Shard
Looking down the slippery steps - Mind The Tide
Now, the tides all around Britain are measured with reference to the tide at London Bridge, so if I measure these photos acurately I must be able to check exactly if this thing is taller than my old workplace.
Maybe.