Ice Cream Weather!

This is what the British call warm summer weather, and this weekend, we've been handed a double dose. On Saturday, my friend and I went grocery shopping in Epsom's high street, where vendors set up their stalls and offer an entertaining alternative to the local Waitrose and Marks & Spencer's shops. The market was very lively, with a butcher, baker, 3 fruit and vegetable stalls, and 2 stalls selling plants. There was also a barker selling English flags. Today is a big football game [what I would call soccer] final, between B Munich and Inter Milan. Strangely, England isn't in the final, but that didn't seem to matter, as the stall was doing a brisk trade in the white flags emblazoned with a red cross.

Later on Saturday my friend hosted a dinner party, and I got to meet several friends and neighbors. My friend lives in a semi-detached house. This is the sort of house that shares a wall with another house, each side is a mirror image of the other. I met the folks who lived on both sides. Everyone is very well traveled. One neighbor's daughter is going to Germany in a week's time for a school break trip. As the UK is part of the EU, travel seems much easier and must be a bit more more affordable.

After the great night of conversation, we all slept in. Today has been extraordinarily hot. We spent most of the day in back garden, drinking tea and reading the ever-so-high class The Guardian and The Sunday Times. I love newspapers, and London still seems to have a viable newpaper culture, which I really appreciate. I've been picking up and reading the papers where-ever I go: the free copy of the Evening Standard that gets handed out at rush hour in all the London train stations. On Friday I bought a copy of The Times for £1, because it had a free copy of Joan Didion's book: The Year of Magical Thinking, bound with the issue. I mean, what's not to like about a city that has enough newspaper readers they can give away free books by real authors? Wow. And because I have eclectic taste, I've been reading the infamous tabloid Daily Mail. Well, things have changed a bit, and there's no photo of the naked lady on Page 2 anymore, but the tone of the journalism is still as sensationalist as ever. The headlines really rock, and are gloriously misleading.

At 3pm I pulled away from newspapers, got my bike together and took off to ride to Kingston-Upon-Thames. Navigating again was a big challenge. There are lots of little blue signs with white lettering on lamp posts, that direct you to various towns, e.g., "Surbiton 1 3/4" or "New Malden 2". Unfortunately, these signs seem to disappear as easily as they show up. I was using Tfl's maps 9 and 12, which shows Epsom, even though it's officially outside the London official boundary. The riding, again, was crazy-making. You follow a bike path that just ends suddenly, or, you come to a traffic circle and ride around and around until you figure out exactly which arm of the circle the sign is pointing up. Then, when I got Kingston, the green asphalt bike lane runs against the traffic flow. I've seen this before, but it still stops me in my tracks. Yes, if it's signed it's OK to do this, but I find it counterintuitive. Having a London cab barreling up the narrow street, apparently right at you, is freaky. After dozens of wrong turns, I did make it to Kingston, and rode a short distance towards Hampton Court Palace, along the multiuse speed-bumped towpath, the Thames Path, which is part of the NCN route 4 bikeway. I'd seen it last week when I'd visited the palace and wanted to know how to get to it. Eventually I suppose if I were here a long time I'd figure out London's ball of wool bike lane system. I turned around, and made it back safely, clocking 28km on my bike computer, for a ride which is probably only about one third that. I stopped for a beer at The Green Man, a pub in Ewell, a town close to Epsom. It's so hot today, all the pubs are doing a roaring trade.