Gay Camberwell

By Layla

I never dreamed that I would become a cycling enthusiast. As a child I had a clunky folding bike (not a neat, cool one like a Brompton; it just folded in half to aid in parents transporting it to the seaside on sunny days). It came complete with a polystyrene helmet that made people mock me. I wobbled along at snail's pace. And once I turned 14, the reign of the bicycle ended for what I thought would be forever. 

I had reckoned without Roz, who is an exceptionally enthusiastic cyclist. By which I don't mean lycra and accessories and tearing up mountains on a weekend, but rather using her bicycle exclusively to transport herself around London. No buses. No tubes. No trains. At first I was sceptical. I had developed a random devotion to TFL. But as we started living together, at the end of a night out it became frustrating when Roz would pedal off home, leaving me stranded at a bus stop. It was particularly frustrating when she'd send me a smug text message announcing her arrival at our flat while I trundled slowly home in a motorised vehicle. Even more frustrating when I received said smug text message while I was still standing at the bus stop gazing hopefully at the horizon for a number 12. 

Eventually I cracked, and after a wobbly, fearful start, I realised it was indeed 'just like riding a bicycle' - plus it is fast, free, good exercise, and extremely convenient. Like an obsessed evangelist, I suddenly became a smug cyclist, expressing scorn at anyone choosing public transport over the delights of the bicycle. Which is why I have been really quite excited by the new cycle hire scheme that hit London a couple of weeks ago. And despite Roz and I  both owning bikes, we signed up. Unlimited 30 minute journeys for a year awaited us (or pay for longer).

A couple of nights ago we were at Polari, London's gay literary salon, which was fantastic. But it was at Barcode, in Piccadilly. And I'd come without my bike. And, to my frustration, also without my brand new cycle hire membership key. I realised how convenient the new scheme could be and cursed myself. 

Thus today, with the need to go to Victoria to return a purchase, I resolved to experiment. Not especially conveniently, alas, as the most convenient cycle hire station for me was at Oval. It took me 18 minutes to walk there. It would have taken me 18 minutes to cycle from home to Victoria, but that was beside the point!

It was a poor day to plan a cycle experiment. As I stepped out of my front door, the first raindrops started to fall. But I was on a mission. I walked up Camberwell New Road, past The Bear, past Kamera Obscura (a couture designer in an unexpected location), past the Union Bar and the Black Sheep, and was rewarded by the farmers' market at Oval - I'm not sure why I've never previously visited, but it was a bit of a delight. Set rather picturesquely in the grounds of a church, there is an impressive array of items, from plants to vegetables to meats to organic breads, as might be expected, but also some interesting specialty stalls and some deli-style offerings. They have a little cafe with outdoor seats, and the effect is local and social and cheery. I had to restrain myself from purchasing some delicious-looking scones. I could not be distracted from my mission.

The bikes are not at Oval station, but just up Kennington Road. Roz, who has an iPhone app that knows these things (apparently the free one is good and the 60p one less so), and having found said bike hire station empty when she tried to get one yesterday, informed me that there would be 9 bikes available. This was indeed accurate. With some trepidation I approached. But it was delightfully easy. I chose a bike and adjusted the seat (very easy) to its lowest position. I positioned my handbag on its little basket and strapped it in with the elastic bits - very effective; my bag was a bit flimsy and didn't close properly but was held securely. I'd like that sort of basket on my own bike. Finally, I popped my membership key into the slot on my bike stand. The light flashed yellow, then green, and I pulled it out of its slot. The bike was mine!

I was a little wobbly at first but soon set off, bound for Victoria. The bike felt heavy, and its three gears seem a bit stingy, and for some reason it hurt my arms. I felt a bit like I was on an exercise bike at the gym, with the settings turned to 'hill'. But nevertheless, it zipped along. I was overtaken by normal bikes, but that's not absolutely unusual for me... I had no problem mounting Vauxhall Bridge, and my journey to Victoria went off altogether smoothly and efficiently. On arrival at the pre-researched bike station near Victoria, I popped my bike into one of the stands where it promptly locked into place. Mission accomplished.

On the way back, the cycle seemed a little lighter... or maybe I'd just got used to it. As I made my way back to Oval, I noticed the reactions of other road users. Pedestrians spontaneously grinned at me. They were loving the novelty. I grinned back. I felt like I was part of some sort of London in joke. I passed someone else on a hired bike. We nodded to each other as though both members of an exclusive club. People with normal bikes pretty much overtook me at speed, suggesting a scathing stance towards the amateur. And cars. Well, car drivers seem to have a pre-programmed wrath towards cycle hire users. In the year or two that I've cycled around London on my own bike, cars drivers have mainly gone about their own business. Today, despite cycling at almost the same speed as usual, and certainly with the same road positioning and general cycling sense as usual, three different drivers honked their horns and gesticulated angrily for no real reason, demonstrating an irrational inbuilt intolerance of the cycle hire user. Clearly they felt us road tourists should stick to the pavement.

After docking my bicycle, it was time for another long walk home. I went through Kennington Park and enjoyed watching a group Tai Chi lesson, a few games of football, children playing in a rather nice playpark, and a very pleasant little cafe. I should visit Kennington Park more often! I pottered through the playing field that's immediately south of the park, got lost in a housing estate, popped out near the Blue Elephant Theatre, and felt quite pleased with my expedition.

Note that the other bicycle station nearest to Camberwell is at the garage at the top of the Walworth Road. Also where Rodney Road meets Balfour Road. But frankly, let's hope Boris extends the scheme down to Camberwell Green soon!