The 'Indian Summer' as we used to call it, continues. This leaves me wondering why we no longer call it 'Indian Summer?' Has someone complained? You know what to say to them! Yesterday and today we have seen a haze caused by Saharan sand blowing high into the atmosphere, and sometime landing upon us. You can just see a bit of haze in the photo. With the temperatures reaching over 30 C outside you can understand how nothing is happening. Not that much happens here anyway. A trip to Tesco before 9 am was a warm walk there and back. Their air conditioning was cold, I was too warm outside, and the talk was of spiders, one ran across the checkout as I gathered the goods. She can keep that one as a pet, but appeared unwilling. I think she has got down off her stool by now.
This is a good book. It is of a type I like. Here the writer gets on his bike and cycles 400 miles from London to Edinburgh following the 'Great North Road.' Today, this road is called the 'A 1' but as you may expect the road has varied from the original, whatever that was, over the years. Take into account the changes, the double carriageways, the 'Motorway' aspects where this becomes the 'A1(M)' and the ever present danger of vehicles attempting to eat the lone cyclist, you will understand that it is not possible to ride the actual, possibly unknown, original, 'Great North Road.' (GNR).
This sort of book features the author trundling through the country, explaining the history, the lie of the land, the places to eat, sleep, and the people met along the way. Some have great humour, this one only in passing. Nonetheless, it is well worth a read.
Of course, as I may have mentioned around 500 times already, I cycled in the other direction in 1974, when I was considerably younger, and even more stupid than I am now. Then I had an idea for a cheap holiday, buy a bike, ride off and enjoy. This I did, but only after riding the bike up the hills to the Royal Infirmary where I worked and coasting back down again at night. I did not realise that six months of hard riding was required preparation!
Steve Silk, a man in his 50s was less stupid than I. He spent time riding over 100 miles gaining strength and planning his route. He also made notes for a book, clever man. This is the result.
Steve begins his ride from Aldersgate in London's centre. Then he works his way north via Smithfield and Islington, though whether this is the exact GNR I am not convinced. Struggling on a bike through London' snarling traffic is no joke, I have done it and would never consider doing it today, he makes his way north. London, as anyone with a map can see, is big, very big, and cycling north takes time. On the way a cyclist is able to see the world in a manner car drivers will never understand. He describes London's variety, the rough has always lived close to the smooth, and all the time he picks out historical pubs and events as he rides.
As the author describes London's variety he also notices the world changing as he goes north. Attitudes north of Watford, as well as accents, change constantly. The further north, the friendlier and more chatty the people. Chatty friendly people in London? Your having a laff mate.
The people change, as does the names of cakes and bread rolls, the land and the people produced reflect the history he passes, and he passes much history. Battles have been fought for thousands of years on these lands, some famous, others forgotten, no matter how bloody. Many a battlefield has gone into history but no-one actually knows where it was fought! This author finds many a battlefield on his ride up the GNR.
Eventually he reaches Edinburgh, his ride from Berwick via Dunbar revealing the state of English knowledge of Scots and English history. He appears surprised that English thugs savaged Scotland with countless raids, implying only Scots did this! All to often the scant English knowledge of Scotland creeps out. Crossing the border he likens it to a county crossing, wondering why the Northumberland 'England' sign is accompanied by a Northumberland flag, an English flag and a Union Jack, yet the 'Scotland' sign has only three St Andrews saltires flying. He has no grasp of his own history or understanding of Scotland bar eating porridge for breakfast!
In Edinburgh he again ignores the city determined to get back on the train south. His mate, he has been accompanied for the last three days, forces him to look at the old town, where once again he fails to understand the city. Two hours after arriving he heads south.
The authors failures as a historian of Scotland and England are to be expected. His ride does contain much worth reading, in England, and gave me the same senses I felt in my ride of long ago. While at that time I did not take into account the history in the same way, I certainly saw the changes of the land and the people. This book brings back memories for me, and will do the same for any who cycle out into the country. Riding a bike is hard work, but the back lanes offer views most miss. The ability to stop and look anywhere is a joy for a cyclist, and today many cafe's and eating places abound in a way they did not in the past.
This book reflects the changes to the 'Great North Road' over the past 50 years as well as the people living on and near the great highway. The millions who have trod this way, or close by, from people individually, drovers with cattle, merchants walking or on horse or stagecoach, to the drivers in the years after the war, lorry drivers pounding hundreds of miles a day, to today's comfortable car enthusiast or mad cyclist, all have memories of this Great North Road.
I recommend this book.
