Monday, September 22, 2014

Tour of Britain in Brighton and Lewes

'I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike, I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like' Queen
 
Cycling has always been an interest of mine, so I was delighted to learn that the Tour of Britain was coming to my two favourite places: Brighton and Lewes.


Studying the predicted race times and the railway timetable, it seemed just about possible for me to see the race in both places.

So, on my own for the weekend for once (my girlfriend Laura had to work), I went to Lewes on the train - and checked out the celebrations.

It was great to see Lewes all decked out to welcome the cyclists. The old Harveys depot, next to the station car park, I have never seen in use before (over the past dozen years). It is generally a great, gated empty building and large yard without any activity going on whatsoever. So, it was a joy to see it in full swing - turned over to the religion of cycling.

The chap at the entrance did not want any money from me. He simply needed to know how I had travelled there.

The answer was cycling from my flat in Hove to Brighton Station, taking the train to Lewes and walking the short distance to his portal. To keep it simple, I said: "cycling", which seemed to please him a great deal.

Inside was a chaotic combination of cycling and sustainability stores, kids cycling round in circles, burgers grilling, an energetic lady taking an exercise bike fitness session, and the race live on a big screen in the old Depot (with a lot of children's noise in the background). A delightful Lewes scene. 

Judging by the live coverage, the Tour of Britain was at that point tearing through a housing estate somewhere near Horsham. It did not seem real that within 40 minutes or so it would be with us, streaming past the Depot.

I went out to inspect some of the route. On Southover Road and Priory Street (my former address for 10 years), little groups were gathering. The Kings Head pub was almost empty, the barman hardly aware of the race.

However, outside, the excitement gradually grew. A chap and his friends started chalking "Viva Lewes" on the road.

People came out of their houses. Almost no one I recognised.

As the time drew on, the Tour of Britain "circus" made its first appearance: tour motorbikes that whizzed round the block at high speed, the rider sometime showing off by standing up; a tour car, a bit battered, also passing at speed; the sense of a whirlwind approaching.

When the first of the riders appeared, they were gone as quickly as they came.

It is hard to appreciate a few racing cyclists charging along at 30 miles an hour.

They are a blur as they pass.

After a surprising gap, the main group - the so-called peloton - arrived. It is easier to enjoy because there is more of it.

What you don't appreciate watching on the telly is what a circus the race is.

As well as a large group of cyclists, at least a dozen support cars and as many powerful motorcycles also pass at speed, breaking the Priory Street 20mph speed limit just to keep up with the cyclists.

And then they are gone.

It did seem incredible the Tour of Britain had just gone down the street.

I hopped on the next train to Brighton and popped on my mum's old bike and caught at least some of the race again arriving at Brighton seafront.


The crowds were bigger than the ones I had seen in Lewes (although I did not go up to Lewes High Street).

It appeared the cyclists were now in several groups, several minutes apart, so there was plenty for all.


There was a lot of flag-waving and excited commentary in Brighton.

The presentations which, strangely, took place while some of the cyclists were still racing, were an odd spectacle.

A pretty, young woman helping the grinning, victorious cyclists in jerseys of various hues. Plenty of staged kissing.

The race was a great spectacle, a real joy to watch, and it was wonderful to catch it in Lewes and Brighton - thanks the use of my mum's old bike.

As always, it has been a mixed time for me. 

What is most sad is that my Dad, Robin, is now very sick with Alzheimer's Disease and rapidly losing his memory and powers of recognition.   
 
Life goes on. I have put a lot of effort of late into building and painting an allotment fence made out of pallets.
 
What I thought might be a relatively easy job took several days and evenings to complete.

It is pretty well hurricane proof and, if I say so myself, beautifully painted, the same colour as the shed, with the compost bin enclosure also matching.

To paint around the compost bin, I had to cut down the ivy, put it into bags and take them to the nearby Lewes Dump.

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