Having just departed the beloved isle of my birth again, I feel it is time to answer the most frequently asked question. What do I miss most about England?
The answer is simple. It is not; The sweet rolling beauty of the South Downs, nor is it the intoxicating roar of the Matthew Harding Stand, Stamford Bridge. Neither is it the hefty clump of leather on willow nor the grim tang of Soho. It isn't irony, sarcasm, wit or wisdom. Not black cabs, red buses or white cliffs.
It is the girl with a bob in the pub on the phone and is it the bloke in his flat with his girl and their cat.So, in case there is any doubt, I spell it out.
Q: What do I miss most about England?
A: My friends.
Friday, 22 October 2010
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
The Soho Cycle Society
The last bicycle shop in Soho apparently closed a few years ago. It was located at no.36 Great Pulteney Street and was owned and managed by Paulo Garbini. His shop had renderings of two miniature penny-farthing bicycles mounted on the facade and they are the only remaining trace of a fantastic cycling oasis.
When I was cycle courier I would regularly pop in to get new inner tubes, pumps, locks etc and admire the beautiful cycling shirts and wonderful bikes that seemed to hang from the ceiling as if by magic.
Waiting for the train to leave
That was the best thing about living at the end of the line. Waiting for the other half of the train to trundle into the station, you could stroll up and down the corridors, picking up discarded newspapers and unwanted Punkettes! Innocent days...
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