Monday 2 May 2022

Penalty beef


A week or so to London to stock up on cheese. Yet another day which seemed cold after the warmth of the day before.

The first penalty arose from my going to the window for my Travelcard before I realised that I had not got my senior railcard with me. Had I gone to a machine I probably would not have realised and even if I had, I would probably have chanced it, on train ticket checkers being very few and far between these days. As it was, the young lady behind the glass did not look as if she would have needed much of a push to chance it either, but I paid up anyway. I dare the system can do with a few extra pounds.


Secured my first Bullingdon from the coveted pole position at the top of the ramp and pedalled off to Drury Lane.


From there to the cheese shop in Shorts Gardens, picking up an impressive looking bit of demolition on the way. That is to say, they seem to be ripping the middle section out of the large, imposing and rather ugly yellow building which fronts onto Long Acre. Less than fifty years old I should think. Part of which used to be occupied by C&W and I used to have meetings there from time to time. I think the entrance to their sector included a brown wood and glass display box containing chunks of all kinds of cables, cut so that you could see their inner workings. A box which I rather coveted, but I had to make do with the occasional trip to the Lowlander bar adjacent. A bar which, in those days, sold quite decent cigars. 

I think you could also rent meeting meeting rooms there by the hour, with tea, coffee and biscuit options. All very expensive as I recall. Except the boiled sweets, which were complimentary.

Owned, as I recall, by one of the Tier 1 office space companies in London. But all Bing turns up is Arup and Northwood Investors, neither of which is the one. Lots more stuff about the redevelopment, but none of that helps either.


The view from the other side. Impressive temporary works and plant.

Cheese shop up and running, including, on this occasion, a moped delivery man collecting what looked like a complicated order. 100grams of this and 100grams of that sort of thing. Lots of them. No doubt a fancy dinner order for someone not living that far away. While speaking for myself, I am not than keen on cheese medleys: I prefer to get the cheese right in the first place and then stick with it. But to be fair, in the context of a fancy dinner, different people are going to have different ideas about what is right.

Next leg to somewhere handy to Selfridges. Passing a very large delivery bike on the way, carrying a whole lot of stuff topped out with what looked like a five gallon barrel of wine. The cheerful cyclist assured me that the bike was indeed battery assisted. Not something I would care to pedal without quite a lot of assistance.


On this occasion I finally made it into the Brass Rail, that is to say the salt beef bar at the bottom of Selfridges, opposite M&S. Of reference 1. Not quite as good as the Nosh Bar of old, in Great Windmill Street. The difference may be that Selfridges use brisket, while the Nosh Bar used rib, which cooks looser and lighter. I opted for large, which meant a sandwich and a half, a substantial meal. Plus wally, visible at the back.

There were plenty of lunching ladies who were chomping their way through the same sort of thing. Ladies old and young, large and small.

It took a while for my order to be taken, but the food came fast enough once it had been. And the place was organised so that you could watch all the shoppers drifting through the food hall while you waited. And some of them were well worth watching.


Feeling rather full, strolled back down North Audley Street to take in the indoor market there, in what had been a substantial church. Or rather, not so much market as a collection of food and drink outlets. I was slightly taken aback at how much like a church it still looked, albeit with the crucifix and other sacred items removed: didn't seem very respectful.

Checking, I find that it used to be St. Mark's Church, built to accommodate the needs of the growing population of this part of town in 1825. Built in Greek revival, converted to Gothic revival about fifty year later - so about the same life span as the building noticed above. Stopped being a church in 1974. See reference 4 for more.


The view from upstairs. But I was a bit full from lunch, was not tempted by more, and decided to head on down to Victoria.


Passed in Park Lane by a new-to-me scooter from BMW, probably the one lifted from their website above. Whatever the case, I certainly pulled away from the lights with impressive acceleration and speed.

Onto Grosvenor Place, completely blocked up for some reason. Annoying for motorists and commercial traffic, but as a cyclist I was able to cut a few corners. 

Pit stop at the swimming pool at the Victoria end of Vauxhall Bridge Road, a place where I used, in the distant past, to swim after work. Probably taking a little something afterwards in the rather tatty old pub opposite. Comfortable, I think the word should be: it had not then been attacked by the décor & furnishing people from some chain or other, although I think it has been since. Swimming pool had been given a makeover too, although you were still allowed to swim lengths - not that I actually do anything of the sort nowadays.

Got a bit lost at Vauxhall, missing the right into Nine Elms Lane and ending up on the Wandsworth Road. Fortunately, after a while, I came across Thessaly Road, as noticed at reference 3, and was able to get myself back on course at the Duchess Belle.

Mason's Arms present, an establishment where we once took an office Christmas lunch. An entertaining establishment, but one which liked to play their music very loudly. By way of compensation, one of our number was qualified to assist with choosing what to play, being an expert on Jamaican music.


But I failed to find the famous Raven, which I had thought was more or less opposite the Wetherspoon's at the Battersea end of Falcon Road.

Checking this one, I find that it used to be in Westbridge Road and is now a restaurant. Near the river, and some way from where I thought it was. The only bit I got right was the corner site. Don't even remember the distinctive roof line. But I have used the place at least once, in the distant past.

A second pit stop at the Half Way House at Earlsfield.

Home, a little dehydrated after quite a lot of cycling and not very much fluid intake. Lots of lemon tea.

After which I was not best pleased to find that I had incurred my second penalty charge of the year, by the substantial margin of ten minutes. Not good enough at all. The first being noticed at reference 3.
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