Tag: River bus

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It’s A Matter of Perspective

Life is a matter of perspective. Of course, there’s more to life than perspective but how something is viewed can determine much about it.

Let’s take the Thames, for example. While running alongside it three times per week, if rain permits, I find the air coming off it energising. It beats the stuffy air of a gym any dry day, and certainly that of running along a road, where there are cars and so on. It edges out running in a park just slightly, only because I have to go quite a distance to get to the park when all I need to do is go a few yards to reach the Thames nowadays.

But let me be clear, I don’t find it appealing. Sure the buildings around it catch my eye, some of them more than others, but the water itself is rather murky. Sometimes while stretching, I stare at it and am able to see beyond its obscurity, but for the most part, it is dim water to me.

A change of perspective, however, got me seeing a much more attractive river, one where boats can sail smoothly, well on certain days, where the water can flow and shimmer, even under cloudy skies. Friday I decided to take the River Bus instead of a taxi to Embankment and walk from there to Covent Garden to meet Paul for dinner and theatre.

So glad I did. For starters the ride took my focus off the problems of the world and got me concentrating on life on and alongside the river. As much as I’ve seen The Church of St Mary, it was picture pretty from the Thames and the Albert Bridge was even more impressive than when running or walking on it.

The Thames Under Cloud
The Thames Under Cloud
The Albert Bridge Up Close
The Albert Bridge Up Close

You see it is all about perspective. Now to put perspective to the test with real life experiences! With the uncertainty of Britain since Friday’s decision to leave the EU and the upcoming presidential elections in November, I’ll have plenty of opportunities to look at life from a different perspective. I might need to stand on my head to catch a fresh glimpse of these two world events but hey, it’s a different perspective.

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Listening Up and Running With Sense

My iPhone has been my running companion for the two years that I have taken up running rather seriously.  No wonder. It is the keeper of my running music, any kind of music, including gospel, and my trusted RunKeeper app.

The thought of running without it was inconceivable until this past Saturday. Case and point: last summer while running a 10K, I must have added at least five minutes to my time when the app suddenly stopped.  Though I tried to keep going without it, I couldn’t hack it, so I stopped long enough to recover the app and my running playlist.

Meanwhile my running mate, who couldn’t conceive of running with music and so on, had long left me in the blazing distance. Still I didn’t see her point and set out to prove her wrong or just different, perhaps. So while visiting Georgia, I’d hijack my niece’s phone, having installed the app there and a substitute playlist.  And off I went. No matter where I ran, I set off with somebody’s phone.

Still I struggled, perhaps lost in the music and the commands of Ms RunKeeper, blaming my pokiness on anything but the obvious. But those days are gone, at least I hope they are. After spending about three days in sabbatical without my phone, my iPad, a single device, I finally saw the device for what it was—a distraction, certainly while running.

But seeing is next week’s focus of running with sense. This week I want to talk about hearing.  Things went so well Saturday that Monday morning, I set out yet again without the phone. Okay so it was in my pocket, just in case. But the just in case never happened, giving me the opportunity to hear London running rather smoothly, to be honest.

From birdsong to the cawing of the lone black crow perched on the lamppost, I heard London wake up. To one side of me, though I kept my head away from sooty, low waters of the Thames, I focused on the sounds of the water crashing against the gravelly shore.  For a moment, I fancied myself miles away on a remote island.

But the idea of running with sense is to stay in the moment and so I returned and further up the riverbank heard the splashing sounds of the river bus speeding along. At Battersea Bridge, I stopped and closed my eyes, listening to the thudding sounds of buses crossing, motorcycles vrooming and car engines purring and droning.

And to the other side of me, I heard the whooshing of wind passing through the trees and the rustling of leaves blowing about on the ground. All the while I sensed a calm flowing through me, even when I heard the odd sound of a banging and buzzing. The construction work was underway. Still I knew London was running smoothly. How refreshing!

Near and far I heard the striking of feet against the pavement, some running and others walking and dogs lightly trotting along, if you will. At one time, I heard my own rhythm so acutely that I was sure it must have been the sounds of another but it was mine, so I basked in it.

Then it dawned on me that scarcely a sound of the human voice was to be heard and there was something sobering about that, if only for a moment, though I heard one commuter whispering into her phone—the others going about quietly and purposefully, particularly cyclists. Speaking of cycling, did you know the turning of the wheels of a bicycle makes a lyrical sound, much like mosquitoes singing in the night? Me either.

And then they came, a class of school children running without sense if you will. They giggled, they chattered, they panted, and they shushed one another. But still it was a lovely sight to see.  They were running, really exercising! But that’s another story. Righty ho. Next week – Looking Out: Running with Sense.

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Running in London, more than meets the eye

I’ve been running again. And though I haven’t signed up for the next road race, I’m up to 12 miles per week, even if a little old lady is faster.

Never mind her, the younger runners or the cyclists whizzing by, I’m in my own world and rarely come out for anything less important than crossing the road. That’s one of the things that I love about running; it’s just me.

On the rare occasion when I do come out of my thoughts, I catch some interesting sights. This week I saw a barefoot runner, life on a luxury houseboat and calm commuters making their way to the river bus.

Bear with; there’s more to this than meets the eye.

First things first, when I was a kid, I thought barefoot running was great. No better place for it than the Georgia countryside, vast plains if you will, and warm red clay underneath my feet. Never mind the odd thorn, bramble or rock.

But fast-forward forty something years and I wonder ‘why on earth’ or shall I say ‘why on concrete’ would anyone do it, especially on a frigid, damp day in London. No wonder the fellow in question was sprinting.

Still, he seemed to be having a blast. Maybe there was more to it than I could see. All the same, I’m not up for it. But I’ll tell you what I am up for—the river bus, but I’ll save that for last.

For now let me tell you about the luxury houseboats, which are moored between Battersea and Putney. According to one estate agent, the boats have two reception rooms and four bedrooms. Not your average narrow houseboat with a low ceiling, is it? Quite surreal to be honest, which is why I chalked them up as permanent exhibitions or river homes for the rich and famous.

This week, however, I caught a glimpse of a person on one of the floating luxury apartments. And suddenly, it dawned on me that this could be a regular person who had carved out an ideal lifestyle—idyllic views, fresh air and their own river bus. Yes, the river bus.

Just then, I heard it, tooting a rather composed horn. I looked up and watched it near the port. Meanwhile, very orderly commuters gathered and then made their way down the gangway.  What a vast difference to London’s train stations and bus stops during rush hour.

Breaking my run, I watched in amazement until the last passenger was on and seated. And then observed the bus move off into the Thames and cruise towards central London uninterrupted by traffic or signalling delays.

Though river buses are not as plentiful as trains or regular buses, there are several connections from Putney to Greenwich.

In the meantime, I re-set my running App and got back to the task at hand. Soon I shot past my building and headed towards the heliport, a helicopter coming in for a landing. With serenity in the distance, I remembered another thing that I love about running.

Soon it would be over and it would be coffee time, which is croissant time for me, just me. More than meets the eye? Interesting, indeed.