Early Riser

As if I needed any more of a reminder that autumn is here, just this week I’ve started rising before the sun. Thanks to shorter days, and a yoga crush, I’ve been breaking my own ‘never rise before 6’ policy. Erin Motz is the cheeriest, most unassuming pretzel of a yogi, who makes all sorts of twists and bends feel doable. Seriously, check out her 30 day challenge.

I like the max-out-your-day feeling of being up with the sun, but in the height of summer the sun rises way too early for me to match it (this sleepless weekend being the exception). So September is a good time to spend 30 days waking up early to salute the sun. I don’t know if this morning routine will last in to the dark wintry mornings. But for now, I’m loving my early stretch.

Fontastic

I am a bit of an everyday font nerd. Not the sort that knows a great deal or can label fonts at five feet; more the common garden bird variety that rages against Comic Sans and quietly subverts the ‘only use Arial’ workplace rules. But with this book I took a dip in to a world of skilled craftsmanship and serious typeface passion, where people care about the shoulder and face, about the kerning, and the picas. Not to mention its historic beginnings; in an age where it’s easy to share anything with a worldwide audience in seconds, it’s hard to imagine the enormous impact made by Gutenberg and the printing press.

With such variety and beauty in the faces and founts (as they were originally penned) it seems a shame to never stray from Calibri or Courier. Some lovely new discoveries for me were Peignot, Stone and Vendôme.

I’ve been noticing the font on everything, and finally caved in to my curiosity and got the WhatTheFont app. Once you start looking, you notice this rich variety to our everyday communications, and will find a few favourites and some pet hates.

Meanwhile, I discovered a new pangram- Grumpy wizards make toxic brews for the evil Queen and Jack- and watched a video of that classic quick brown fox in action.

Day Tripping

Whilst we were planning to spend the weekend in London, it was too hot to be far from the beach. So, it’s been a weekend of contrasts. We spent Saturday up in London, and Sunday by the sea. With tickets to see Tom’s mum sing with 16,000 other Rock Choir singers at the Millenium Dome, we took the Thames clipper out to Greenwich. A hot day spent in London, without taking the tube, is the best sort of day.

We wandered through the Southbank centre and soaked up the herb gardens, food stalls, live music, and fountains. It was heartbreaking to see the once-lively skateboard ground boarded up. Though I’d heard rumours, I had no idea it was actually at an end, and the vibrancy of the Southbank was all the poorer for it.

Catching the Thames Clipper was worth the wait, as we saw London from a rare angle, out East along the wharves. Then, picnic in the park, followed by singing in the arena.

It was quite an incredible thing to see so many singers all doing their thing all at the same time. These guys are coordinated! Of course, we couldn’t spot Suzie in the crowd, but we could easily spot the Welsh contingent, who wore giant daffodils, and the group waving neon electric guitars. Everyone was clearly having a great time, and I loved the celebration of how fun it is to sing in a group. I defy anyone to not feel good after a little singing, and even better after singing with others. You can find a local choir near you at Making Music. Or you could buy this beautiful book and sing along at home!

A Reading Rut

I’ve read some great books recently: Big Machine was a crazy visit out to San Francisco, with bizarre people and even stranger happenings; Journey to the River Sea was an exotic amble upstream to unknown jungles and ancient cities; Ape House was an invitation to meet with bonobos and enjoy some classic pulp adventure along the way.

But, the last couple weeks I’ve been in a reading rut. I’m easily distracted and it’s just so much easier to play on Instagram, or flick through a magazine, rather than properly focus on a book. It’s like grabbing a chocolate bar, instead of baking that blueberry buckle cake, even knowing the latter would taste better.

And it’s not for lack of a good read. I’ve got Neil Gaiman’s Stardust on the go at the moment. He imagines the most fabulous worlds and writes the most perfect sentences. There’s really no reason I shouldn’t be diving in, with no regard for distraction.

But first I’m going to go bake that cake.

Whatever the Wheels

There’s a whole lot of bikes out there on the roads. Take a look in your wing mirror, or in front of you at the traffic lights: you’re sure to see a two-wheeler. A ride through the city is a safari of different cycling animals. There’s the guy on his flash racer, trying to beat his Strava PB; the school kid on the pavement with a loose interpretation of riding in a straight line; the unruffled old lady, complete with handbag in basket and steady pace; or the bloke labouring on a fat-tyred mountain bike. And these are just the stereotypes.

With such visible differences in bikes and their riders, it’s easy to fall in to a ‘tribe’ mindset. You might ally yourself with one and scorn those with skinnier tyres, or surplus gears, or stuffed panniers. But really we’re all the same. However you categorise us, we are all minority road users and we need to stick together. We’re all trying to navigate busy roads that aren’t designed for us, trying to fit in with vehicles bigger, faster and beefier than ours.

Sadly a cyclist was injured on Sunday’s Randonnee after a collision with a car. I don’t know the circumstances of the incident, but I know from experience that a bike is flimsy protection in any altercation with a car. And our fundamental incompatibility makes us unlikely to see eye to eye. It’s a rare sight to see the roads congested with two wheels, rather than four, and it was clear that for some drivers this was an unconscionable insult. You only had to observe the tight overtaking and hear the rev of engines to know that some drivers weren’t happy.

There were a lot of very patient drivers on Sunday, seemingly happy to share the road. But there is some heavy metal opposition out there. So we need to forget which tribe we’re in, and remember we’re all on bikes. Regardless of how fat our tyres, or how tight our shorts, we need to represent and explain our cause, and make sure we give car drivers no reason to resent us. I hope the gentleman who was hit is well, and I hope it doesn’t dissuade anyone else from getting on their bike.