It’s an old cliché but still true: travelling slower allows you to see familiar objects in a new light or see new things you’ve always missed in the normal daily hullabaloo.
Railway crossing signs are a case in point. They describe distance in miles and chains. Chains? Since when did we stop using them? And whatever happened to the furlong? Furloughed I expect, given the times we’re in.
I found myself early into day 6 wondering why on earth the city’s called Nottingham and not Notting Hill? The inclines here are never-ending: sometimes innocent, sometimes shrewd, sometimes vicious. All within 5 minutes from home. Tour de France? Pyrenees? My Knees in Sneinton became something to write songs about.
The nooks and crannies of our highways, byways and industrial estates provided me with some arresting sights too: a fleet of London buses, the premises of Harry Potter’s day job and a mysterious tunnel which takes you from the tedium of Maid Marion Way to the Narnia of the Park Estate all provided moments of surprise and delight in the most mundane of settings.
You can see an update of the campaign -and still donate if you wish – here.