Is it really that time of year again? It seems only last week we were down in that London Town, wearing our best Bib and Tucker, hip flasks charged with the finest spirits known to man.
“So” as is the predilection for starting a sentence in this day and age what did we get up to? For the second year running the ride started and finished in Clerkenwell at the Bourne & Hollingsworth buildings, understandable what with them being the organisers and all that malarkey, but truth be told it used to be rather good fun having a different start and end point every year, but what the heck we are not heres to moan about a ride that is about the style and atmosphere (of which the Tweed Run has in spades).
Now, let us not forget the Tweed Run does have a ride involved, squeezed in amongst tea stops, lunch stops, party games and of course plenty of bon viveur. Come the start time 11:06 ante meridian precisely this year (despite Mrs Adam’s best effort to rally an early start by sounding her klaxon for several full minutes), we set off in the direction of Kings Cross causing the usual Tweed inspired anarchy that only several thousand cyclists can in the heart of London. It must be said that even the grid lock caused near St. Pancreas was taken in good humour with even a taxi driver or two giving up and entering into the spirit of the day.
After a rather pleasant amble along Old Father Thames, looking rather handsome in the Spring sun and nipping over Westminster Bridge and making our way to the Imperial War Museum for a bite to eat and maybe a drink of something cold and wet, our wonderful friends the Lincolnshire Poachers had a slightly different agenda and were quick to discover the Grand Union bar, closely followed by our very own Mr Corky rumour has it that the Landlord and his good wife still have not returned from their holidays after the unexpected windfall.
A bite to eat, a few interviews and we are away on the final leg popping back over Blackfriars and running back into Clerkenwell and the park outside B&H, where a little bike related party had been arranged where it was lovely to see our chums at Pashley hawking their wears to the great and the good of London.
And that Ladies and Gentlemen (apart from a few cigars, a few more pints, and the draining of the hip flasks is that),
If you would care to peruse a few snaps from the day, then please feel free to pop over to the gallery.
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