Why is Cycling to Canary Wharf so Complicated?

One of my semi-frequent routes is from the City of London to Canary Wharf. The vast majority of my work is in the City, but I also have occasional meetings elsewhere in London, mostly in Canary Wharf. At around 3-4 miles depending on the starting point, mostly along the fully segregated CS3 route, its ideal for my kind of slow cycling in a suit, especially on a cool dry day. Its no quicker than the DLR, but is pleasant and cheap.

The problem is that its so hard to actually get onto the wharf itself.

The light blue line above is route recommended by Google Maps. At other times the same service has recommended crossing through the CrossRail station development, which is equally inaccessible. Even if you can find the route above via the little-known Willoughby Passage, you'll find a gate across it and a series of "Cyclists Dismount" signs to push the bike along a narrow path alongside the road. But you probably won't find it anyway, its not signposted at all. Every alternative (other than the slightly hellish road climb up to WestFerry Circus) involves steps, lifts, dismounting, or walking the final bit.

The management of Canary Wharf (Landlords rather than tenants) are notoriously anti-cycling. They have routinely objected to any cycling improvement scheme in the area, including CS3 and the proposed River Crossing from Deptford. It was a long while before Boris bikes were seen on the estate, despite their original sponsor, Barclays, having their head office there. Conversely most of the tenants are very pro-cycling. Not just Barclays, but HSBC and KPMG both tout their environmental sustainability as a major selling point. Most of the bigger Financial and Legal firms located there have a strong health and environmental ethos. And yet its crazily difficult to ride a bike up to the front of the offices.

And the thing is - that's madness. Like the City, Canary Wharf is densely populated with office workers. Public transport has improved massively over the last decade, but with only 2 Tube lines serving it (compared with 6 in the City), its still overcrowded even when running perfectly. When either the DLR or the Jubilee lines fail, the other is forced to close stations due to crowding. Surely creating capacity for a few thousand bicycles would we way more efficient than space for a few dozen cars?

In the meantime, I'll carry on pottering happily along CS as far as Westferry Road, and struggling through the last hundred yards. My current favourite route is via the lift behind the Royal China on the river front. One day - it may well be a new river crossing. But in the meantime, don't give up - if lots of us are trying it - something will get done.

Why did the Cabbie Punch me?

When I first started cycling in London around 30 years ago, many people warned me about the dangers of Black Cabs performing U-Turns without warning, typically as a cyclist was passing them in an otherwise stationary line of traffic. However I found Black Cab drivers to be amongst the most courteous of fellow road users, seeing themselves alongside cyclists as part of the solution to problems of mass car ownership.

The construction of segregated cycling infrastructure under Boris Johnson as mayor seemed to cause a sudden turnaround in the attitude of Black Cab drivers, varying from minor resentment over roadspace to calls (mainly on twitter) to threaten cyclists and a noticeable lack of willingness to give way or show much consideration.  I had generally put some of the twitter chat down to a small bunch of angry old-timers with too much time on their hands - people like me in fact - but with a black cab rather than a bicycle.

Then rather unexpectedly, whilst I was slowing down for a right turn, a black cab driver drew alongside me, leaned out of his window, and punched me, before driving off.

It was so unexpected that I didn't really have time to react. The punch wasn't hard, but it was enough to knock me off my bike and bruise myself against the kerb of the central reservation. Two passers-by immediately ran over to help; one called out the registration plate of the taxi to commit it to memory, but seconds later all 3 of us had forgotten it. I reported it to City of London Police as an assault rather than a traffic incident, and they found cctv footage of it, but not clear enough to identify the taxi, let alone the driver.

But the biggest mystery is why on earth did he punch me in the first place. There have been plenty of small incidents where right of way is disputed, resulting in a torrent of verbal abuse, and some incidents where it could be argued that Cab Drivers had driven in a deliberately threatening manner, but this wasn't one of those. We had had no previous contact, there was plenty of space on the road, it was quiet, nothing to provoke any action, let alone a punch. There was nothing threatening about my clothes - it was a woolly hat and plain jacket, no Brexit or GTFC slogans that might have triggered some-one with different views; no helmet or camera to suggest I was trying to catch someone out.

Your suggestions please - Why did the Cabbie Punch me?

6 reasons why it’s OK to drive along the pavement

A byelaw in London forbids motorised traffic from parking on pavements, and it’s generally well observed, at least in the centre of town. However outside London there is a rather awkward compromise where driving a car or van along a pavement is banned, but pavement parking is not. This raises an obvious question of the car gets onto its pavement parking space, but leaving that aside, it’s quite normal to drive along the pavement in my part of Hertfordshire, and generally accepted. I have listed a few common reasons below for people who generally regard themselves as good, safe drivers - are they good reasons? And when are they OK to justify cycling along the pavement but not driving?

1. Solid road traffic at school time  

This tends to occur very close to drop-off or pick-up times at primary school, after most of the kids have safely been deposited at the gates with a few minutes to spare. We’re not one of those families, we know exactly how long it takes to walk to school, so end up leaving the house a few minutes later than we should and run along the pavement. More organised parents do leave on time, but if they are driving, unpredictable traffic leaves them still queuing in traffic jams with seconds to go until the bell rings. The only option here (apart from abandoning the car in the jam) is to drive onto the pavement and complete the journey that way. This requires wide pavements, and regular sounding of the horn to warn other kids that you’re coming through, but does avoid getting your kids a poor punctuality record. 

2. Looking for a house number

A very popular sight during the working day is a delivery van driving slowly along the pavement looking for a particular house number. They will have pulled onto the pavement where the SatNav told them to, and thereby avoided blocking the road. But then they find the postcode covers a wider area and need to drive along the pavement to find the right house. The same applies to taxi drivers, especially late at night. This can be more hazardous than other situations as the driver will be looking for house numbers rather than other pavement users.

3. Avoiding oncoming overtaking cars

Picture the scene, you are driving (or cycling) peacefully along a quiet street, probably within the speed limit. You see an obstacle on the other side of the road, maybe a slow moving bicycle, or perhaps a parked car. It’s of little concern to you as it’s not in your way. However, it is in the way of oncoming traffic, so what happens when they steer into your path? Should you stop and risk getting crashed into, or veer onto the pavement to avoid it?  Honesty here - this is by far the most frequent cause of me cycling onto pavements.

4. Avoiding solid traffic to turn left further up

My house is about 100 yards from a set of traffic lights. Just before the lights, there is a separate turn left filter leading into the left turn and a pub car park. Traffic normally queues beyond my house when the lights are red, inconveniencing drivers turning left who have no need to queue for a traffic light that doesn’t apply to them. Many left-turners therefore use the pavement as an unofficial filter lane to avoid waiting behind traffic going right or straight ahead. 

5. Running a series of drops / pick ups close together

Another popular school run technique for ecologically aware parent drivers who share lifts, but it applies to any lift shares where all the sharers live on the same street close to each other. Rather than rejoin the carriageway between each pick-up (or drop-off), or encourage picking up at a common point, it’s more usual to drive from one to another along the pavement. Arguably this is more jsstifable than (2) as its for the good of the kids, although its a pain for those walking to school, or cycling (also illegally) along the pavement with kids.

6. When the road is too narrow for the vehicle

There are times when the road is too narrow for the vehicle being driven down it. This applies to delivery trucks as well as larger cars, and is exacerbated by parking on one side of the road, often illegally. In this case, the pavement offers an informal temporary road widening scheme allowing easy access for wide vehicles on narrow steeets.

In all cases, these are everyday examples of practical reasons where driving on the pavement is somewhere between inconvenient and dangerous to pedestrians, but not caused by something as obviously stupid as speeding or drink-driving.  We generally accept these as the danger caused to pedestrians is small. But with the hundreds of people being run over on pavements every day, is it something that pedestrians should tolerate? 

A month without drink: Diary of a slightly slimmer man

Sunday 30 Sep 2018

Had a good drink up on Friday night. Really good long drink up, arriving home about 2am at the end of a £60 Uber ride. Still, drinks had been free all night. It had been a retirement do, but celebrating not only the long and distinguished City career of the good friend retiring, but also the end of an era of jobs for life, final salary pensions, corporate hospitality and lunchtime drinking. Dozens of old friends there, mingling with current colleagues and family of the great man.

Then talking of the end of good things, I figured that approaching 50, with teenaged children and subtly but progressively poorer health, it’s no longer appropriate to come home at 2am with large gaps in my memory. Whilst going completely dry seems rather extreme, a month without alcohol might be good for me. 

Not sure I can make an entire month, so won’t be doing this for charity or making a big public statement, just quietly avoiding booze. Let’s see how this pans out..

Monday 1 October

One of those days where everything seems to require running to stand still. My work as a Project Manager tends to be erratic - I am usually either pretty idle between project events, or rushed off my feet to resolve a sudden onslaught of problems. Today was definitely the latter. Combined with a bunch of admin resulting from weekend activities that I struggled to find time to deal with; I just managed to get to Guides on time to collect my daughter, and finally home, desperately craving a glass of wine. Once there, some argument within the family had resulted in a distinct atmosphere, which I’d normally hide from in my study with a glass of whisky, but felt that Day One was a bit early to give up giving up.  After my mediation efforts were shown to be unwelcome, I retired to bed early with a good book.

Tuesday 2 October 

Get a text mid-morning from a good friend who I originally met through ante-natal classes for our (now) 16 year old children. He’s in London unexpectedly today, fancy meeting for a drink around Kings Cross about 5 or 6pm. It’s convenient, and tempting. I cancelled our last drink at the last minute after failing to notice that the date was my son’s birthday. But my will power is stronger in the morning, and Kings Cross isn’t so handy, so I refuse.

But then a Mid afternoon Whatsapp from another friend suggesting a drink during the week, 4 of us. We need to get together anyway to sort a few bits out, and they are good company, so definitely up for it, but how to do this without actually drinking. Maybe I’ll have fallen off the wagon by the end of the week anyway, but then it turns out that tonight is the only evening we can all manage it. Maybe I should pretend to be on antibiotics. 

As it happens, I am first there, so order myself a glass of sparkling water. We’re in the Jolly Sailor,, it’s been my local for 18 years so feels odd to both me and the bar staff. However it does mean that I don’t need to explain it to everyone else as they come in, and by the time the second round comes, I get a bit of a curious look, and explain I’m just trying to cut down a bit, and by the third glass the others seem to accept it. However the conversation seems to swing from amusing banter to awkward disagreements. I’m normally very chilled, but getting increasingly tetchy by turns, and can’t help thinking that a couple of beers would have kept us all more genial. Get home about 12.30, put the kettle on and spot the whisky bottle again, luring me in. I switch off the kettle and the light and go to bed.

Wednesday 3 October

Finishing off work, nothing really planned for the evening, one of my colleagues tells us he is going to Watling for a quick drink if anyone would like to join him. Now I love the Watling. I worked across the road from it for 4years, and became regular enough to know most of the bar staff by name. The wide range of beer is impeccably kept. The bar service is swift, friendly and efficient. Although predominantly men in suits, there are men in other clothes and the occasional lady. There is space to stand in the cobbled streets outside, and it’s looking like a lovely warm evening. It’s on my way home, so a quick one isn’t a radical diversion from my new healthy lifestyle..

I fight it and go home. The frosty atmosphere of the previous evenings appears to be subsiding, so we watch football on TV together, then The Apprentice. It was pleasant, I was glad I’d left the Watling for a new generation to discover it. 

Thursday 4th October

Thursday is usually my big drinking night. In my city circles it always has been, leaving Friday clear to get home for the weekend. It’s something I normally look forward to from arriving at work on Monday morning. However, this week it’s not to be.  As it happens, I have an alternative plan, one incompatible with drink, which is partly why I felt this might be a good week to start my new resolution. This evening I will tour a local girls school with my daughter, as part of the charade of an intelligent and informed free choice of appropriate education for one’s offspring. We grab a Chinese takeaway on the way home, a tin of lager would have gone with it nicely, but water will do tonight.

Friday 5th October 

I meet an old university friend for lunch in the staff canteen. This is a regular Friday arrangement, we co-incidentally work in the same building but for different companies at the moment, so it’s a refreshing non work catch up. There’s also no booze on offer. I return to my desk, and the team next to mine are heading out to the Vintry for a quick drink would I care to join them. I’ve not got any critical meetings this afternoon, and it’s still unusually warm out, so perhaps one quick half in the courtyard might be nice? But no, lunchtime drinking is a bit of a bugbear when we’re supposed to be paid to be competent, so joining them is both hypocritical and failing my new resolution. I stay at my desk and get finished off. The same group invite me for an end of day swifty later, but they’re already boisterous and I’m not in the mood. Besides, one of the kids is in trouble at school, so shirking that wouldn’t help the situation at all.

I go out for a stroll with my wife instead while one of the kids is swimming. Normally we’d stroll around the park by the swimming pool, but it’s dark and unlit, so we stroll up towards town, taking a detour along one of the old coaching roads into the city centre. There’s a lovely cluster of old pubs along here, really traditional inns serving great beer. Discount for Camra members (which I’m not, but you get the idea). My wife has never been along here in all the years we’ve lived there, and is fascinated. We bump into a friend going for a drink in the White Lion, we chat for a bit, but manage to excuse ourselves and head back to the swimming pool. Another day done.

Saturday 6th October

Oddly enough, I don’t usually drink at weekends. The day is always busy ferrying the kids around, and we tend to spend evenings in rather than going out on the busiest night of the week. My wife doesn’t drink much at all, so we don’t tend to go out “for a drink”.   I have in the past attempted dry Februaries as they are the shorter months, but never got beyond the first week. Discussing this with a friend (over a drink) a few months earlier, he’d suggested a better way to cut down is to go dry for one week each month. Perhaps I’ve done enough already?

I’m kind of aware of it being more than a week without a drink, and also I’m not sleeping too well - maybe because of missing it. I can feel a cold coming on as well, one which a quick glug of that whisky will shove away. But I decide to go for lemon tea instead.

Sunday 7th October

A busy morning of ferrying children around Sports fields in North London, followed by a splendid roast beef dinner around 3pm. A roast dinner that would be nice accompanied by a glass or two of red wine. There’s quite a bit on the wine rack, some nice stuff too, but I don’t want a whole bottle, and it won’t be so good over a few days. The bottles remain in place.

Monday 8th October

You may remember that last week I just made it to Guides on time to collect the girl. Over the summer when work was reasonably quiet and the evenings were warm and bright, I got into an unhealthy habit of stopping in the pub between the station and Guides for a quiet pint on my own. I’d sit and sip quietly for half an hour or so, contemplating the world at peace, then hop back onto my bicycle to collect her. Although dark, it’s oddly warm tonight, and I’m not massively busy, and I kind of miss the experience. Having said that, my pile of non-urgent things to do is growing longer, there is actually plenty for me to do in the office before I go. I look through my list, select a job that requires an hours concentration, and do that instead.

Tuesday 9 October

Bumped into an old colleague today who I hadn’t seen for a while, and we got chatting about getting the guys together for a few drinks. There’s a private rooftop bar nearby that we have access to, and I agree to organise a drink there for the group. Trouble is, rooftop bars are nice when it’s warm, and that really means this week. Can I just prevaricate?

Get home early after a meeting away from the office finishes early. Early doors on Tuesdays are nice because most of the family are out doing something energetic. I can open a bottle of red and listen to my music loudly without criticism. As Prince and the Revolution boom through the walls, I reach for the wine rack before correcting myself. I sit down at my desk to catch up on various bits of personal admin, and suddenly feel very down. The mild sense of achievement from the first week is now replaced with a general feeling of misery.

Wednesday 10 October 

Have a 4pm meeting, couple of the attendees suggest relocating to The Listing, a pub close to the office. Tempting, but not on, there’s a fair bit to discuss and it requires concentration. However my wife texts after a bit of a row with one of the kids suggesting we go out. Trouble is we won’t get out until about 9.30, a bit late for dinner or cinema, so it’s looking like a drink. Not sure whether to tell her I’m trying to avoid drinking for fear of ridicule, but equally the urge to drink isn’t massively strong. However, we will be back in the Jolly Sailor, and it will be the second time I’ve gone there to drink water. I’ll get myself barred.

In the event neither of us are really up for a evening out once all the kid-ferrying is complete, so we sit down to watch “The Apprentice” as a family again. No-one really watches it, but it’s a fun evening with phones and iPads put away yelling generalisations at the TV.

Thursday 11 October

I know I have to be in school for a relatively serious meeting at 7.30 tomorrow morning, so my usual big Thursday night isn’t really an option if I’m intending to project an image of responsible parenting. Instead, the Alban Arena, our local theatre, has a film night this evening, they pull a screen down to play Mary Shelley. I remember reading Frankenstein’s Monster years ago, and think this might be fun. We’ve also never watched a film there - after all - it’s not a cinema so the sound, etc probably isn’t phenomenal. The pair of us make up just under a quarter of the audience, but the film is quite good, and it’s a pleasant evening for a walk into town. On the way back the wife notes that I didn’t suggest nipping into the Jolly Sailor for a quick stop, but I remind her about the 7.30 meeting and she doesn’t think anything of it (I don’t think). I’ll tell her if I get to the end of the month, but that’s still a long way off and the wine rack still looks awfully tempting.

Friday 12 October

Friday closes with various colleagues suggesting a quick drink after work. Definitely just the one,  be good to have a quick chat, etc. Got a really busy spell coming up, so a pleasant drink this evening would be nice... but I head home for a stroll across the park to Waitrose with my wife while my daughter swims - we have torches this week. There’s some rather nice looking Chianti on the reduced rack at Waitrose, my wife asks if I want a bottle, but I say we have plenty spare. We have if I keep this up - otherwise we are down to about a 2 week supply.

Saturday / Sunday 13 / 14 October

Weekends are so similar. It’s a wet morning, but once the rain clears, my daughter and I head into town for a shop. I’m not a great shopper, so like to finish the session in a city centre pub garden with a cool beer for me and a orange juice with lemonade for her. But it’s a bit cooler today, we spend twice the usual drinks find on an espresso and a freshly squeezed lemonade in a cafe.  Sunday is a seriously rainy day, and I catch up on household jobs that have been neglected for a while. Surely that deserves a drink, but I note that tomorrow I will be half way through the month.

Monday 15 October

I also notice that this is getting easier. The original “one day at a time” approach is giving way to the occasional couple of consecutive days where the opportunity and temptation don’t really present themselves so forcefully. I again contemplate the quiet pint on the way to Guides pickup, but then think it’s a bit of a sad lonely old man thing to do. I go home, get changed, then do the pickup. I contemplate rewarding myself with a drink, thinking it will also fight the cold I can feel coming on, but definitely half way now and looking forward to the end.

Tuesday 16 October

Why did I think this was getting easier? One of the kids is in trouble at school again, which always makes me want to drink once I’ve finished having a serious word and they are in bed. I also notice that I probably have work drinks on 26th, so I’m not going to make it to the end of the month anyway. Seriously wavering this evening.

Wednesday 17 October

Well  - didn’t turn to the bottle last night. But the problem hasn’t gone away, in fact it’s slightly bigger. One of my fellow consultants comes round to my desk towards the end of the day, one of the ones that I’d deliberately failed to organise a drink with last week. I help him out with a bit of a client problem, and he suggests a quick pint in Jamie’s. Really tempted. He’s good company, and I’m thirsty, but say no. It’s avoiding home problems really, although I’ll feel the urge for a drink after that. 

Later on, harsh words exchanged, but afterwards we peacefully watch The Apprentice as a family again. This isn’t a bad Wednesday night routine.

Thursday 18 October

We’ve got tickets to see “Crazy Rich Asians” at the flicks tonight. It looks rubbish, but probably fun escapist trash. The cinema has a jolly nice bar, but I don’t normally use it anyway so we should be safe. And depending on which way we walk home, we can probably avoid the lure of some of our finer local pubs. Let’s see how we go..

We go in, and the bar is buzzing. I try to walk through quickly - one of my Grandma’s timeless pieces of advice was to always run past a public house to avoid getting tempted to go in. As we go in, we see a bunch of my wife’s friends laden down with Prosecco bottles and glasses, they offer us some, but Prosecco definitely isn’t to my taste. But once in our seats, there’s a lovely rich smell of red wine and cheese wafting somewhere, and I struggle with not returning to the bar to get my own portion. 

The movie is as daft as one might expect, but entertaining, and feeling cheery afterwards we head out for a curry. Then I have an abrupt thought that a curry without beer is going to be nigh on impossible, so we switch to an Italian instead. This is a minor disaster as my wife finds a lump of hard plastic in her pasta,  but at least I don’t drink.   This was a tough day to avoid it though.

Friday 19 October

Toughest day so far. I meet a couple of friends for a drink in The Lamb in Leadenhall market after a tiresome day at work. Its a lovely warm evening and the market is crowded with outdoor drinkers and the pleasant aroma of ale.

The bar is well managed and serves quickly, a fine selection of ales and I see a portion of delicious Scotch Eggs being served up while I wait. I order a glass of sparkling water, before spotting my friends and wandering over. The main topic of conversation seems to be my strange choice to not drink which is slightly irritating, and they seem to want to spike my second drink (but fortunately don’t). But I’m a bit bored of resisting it, so head home after the second glass. Could really do with a glass of wine when I get home.. but don’t. However I’m seriously doubting that I can keep going another 2 weeks.

Saturday 20 October

I did the park run today. I quite often do, but normally to clear a hangover and start the weekend a bit fresher. I missed it last week with a bit of a painful foot, so this is my first run since this experiment began. It’s a beautiful cool, sunny Autumn morning, dew in the grass, colourful leaves falling - you get the idea. Everyone else thinks the same, so it’s crowded. Amazingly, I break my personal record for the year by quite a margin, and what’s more, I sprinted at the end as I still seemed to have energy left. Maybe the lack of booze is making me healthier in more ways than I expected. Perhaps I should try to keep going a bit. The rest of the day is taken up with family duties finishing with a swimming gala which avoids the booze successfully. I even hope I don’t win any wine in the raffle.  

 Sunday 21 October

Sunday goes well too, until we are walking back from the shops and get stopped by a couple of friends sitting in the sunshine outside The Beech House, a large lovely pub that opens onto the market place. Oddly enough, my daughter had just been saying she was thirsty, and our friends invite us to join them, adding that a couple of other friends are coming up in a few minutes. I can see my wife on the brink of pulling up a chair. I’ve already uncharacteristically drunk water with these people recently, it will be very hard to stay and not drink. So I use my daughter as an excuse and head home.

Monday 22 October

A long day at the office without a break, then did a bit more work when I got home. Finished a little before midnight, and figured I needed something to drink to get myself to sleep sharpish rather than thinking about work. Went up to read instead, but too tired to focus on the letters and give up. Fall asleep feeling virtuous about not touching the whisky.

Tuesday 23 October

Another long day, but not working at home tonight. Sit down with Mrs H for dinner at 9, a bottle of wine would top it off nicely. But it’s not happening as I’ll then either drink a bit every day, or neck the whole bottle, both of which would defeat my purpose. Thinking about how to avoid drinking on Friday night. I might tell my colleagues about this now that the end is in sight. With leavjng drinks on 1 Nov and post-wedding drinks on 2 Nov, the plan to resume drinking at the end of next week is shaping up nicely, although I wonder if it’ll really appeal after a month of abstinence.

Wednesday 24 October

I had a chat with my boss about whether to take the team out for a drink once we’ve finished on Friday night, and confess that I’m not drinking. Turns out he isn’t either - he’s stopped for periods of time before, and says the secret is alcohol-free beer. Other than Becks, most alcohol-free lager is fine. Spanish alcohol-free lager in particular is jolly good apparently, making up 20% of beer sales in Spain. Its not happening tonight, I leave work on time tonight for parents evening at school, followed by dinner out for Mrs H and me. We went to “Little Marrakech”, a favourite Moroccan themed restaurant, with an excellently well priced set menu that includes a bottle of wine. Thing is, I need to work when I get home, and Mrs H won’t drink much which will leave me drinking most of the bottle. So I order a big bottle of sparkling water. I’m still rather surprised she hasn’t noticed that I haven’t drunk alcohol for 26 days, and I have to say slightly disappointed.

Thursday 25 October

Really too busy this week to think about drinking much, and recognising that if we do go out tomorrow night, it will be brief. However it will also be a good time to order a glass of water and crow my success in not drinking for (by then) 4 weeks. Thursday night remains a night when I still would rather go out for a drink, but having gone this long, I can keep it up a few more days.

Friday 26 October

In the event, I don’t leave work until after 11pm, so miss the excitement of The Listing.  As I cycle to the station, the worst of London’s drunks are on display. Men pissing in shop doorways, girls falling off their stillettoes, one fellow so drunk that his companions have to support him as he can’t even stand. Plenty of people are leaving Halloween parties in high spirits (boom boom) but frankly in a mess. The train is full of drunks, I find myself rising above it all.

Saturday 27 October

I do the park run again, confident of beating my previous week’s record, but narrowly fail. However its still a pleasurable run. I feel a bit of a drip for having been such a killjoy the previous evening, people were only having fun and actually I wish I was too. I confess to a couple of friends that I haven’t drunk all month, and they mention another mutual chum, a regular heavy drinker, who is doing a very public sober October. He hasn’t had a month without beer since the age of about 16, and is finding it hard. I am too, he’s a nice guy, but I know him mainly through drink and he’s a good drinking buddy. I know I’m missing the drink - I like the healthy feeling but I like the social side of drinking much more.

Sunday 28 October

Another busy day of ferrying children around. Quite behind on personal admin after a busy week of work, so find myself tapping this at bedtime with another day of no drink.  I also notice that my last drink was one month ago, September 28th, so I have managed the month. Shall I quickly sneak a glass of red?    No - Thursday 1 Nov is my first drink. 

Monday 29 October

Kids are on half term this week, oddly a week later than the rest of the country. My wife and daughter come into town to meet me for lunch, which is lovely, but  unfortunately puts me rather behind so I end up finishing late again. Still with 2 days to go, I’m pretty sure I’m going to make it now.

Tuesday 30 October

The eldest son is home alone while the others go off on a little trip, he’s supposed to be studying for mock GCSE’s. I think it might be prudent to leave work a bit early and spend a bit of time with him, so we work together through part of the evening - I suspect this is the first work he’s done all day. He cooks dinner, which we eat without drinking, we watch some rubbish on TV, and sleep. One more day.

Wednesday 31 October

A very busy day, hassled all day and no time to think or prioritise. I come home with a lot unfinished, and work well into the evening to get on top of the hundreds of emails received through the day. As I log off, I notice that it’s 11.58, I am 2 minutes from November...

In fact I last another 16 hours before finally getting out for a drink in The Listing. 

I made it. It’s over.

Diary of a Road Accident Victim Part VII: The Police Response

The earlier Diary Parts I - VI tell the story of the events following the time that I was knocked off my bike by a careless driver in March. She realised her error, was very apologetic, and provided details at the scene, as did a witness who was driving behind me. I wasn't badly hurt beyond cuts and bruises, but my clothes were ruined. I made 5 attempts to report it to the police, a process riddled with stumbling blocks.However, the driver's insurers were more helpful, eventually awarding me £600 to replace my damaged clothes. I thought that was it. However, there is a slight footnote.

Firstly, I had an unexpected letter from the Dept for Work and Pensions, to say that any kind of benefits I had claimed as a result of the accident will need to be claimed back from the insurer of the offender. Assuming that the insurer of the offender didn’t tell the DWP about the accident, they must have been notified by the police, which makes the next part even stranger.

I had two letters from the police - one to say that they were closing the case as none of the four attempts to report the accident were successful (quickly rectified with a few more phone calls and emails); and then the final letter below, which was what I expected. They hadn’t had time to contact the independent witness, or trace other witnesses, so wouldn’t be taking the matter any further.

Whilst I recognise that the police are woefully over-stretched, so can’t follow up on every injured cyclist in their jurisdiction, I (slightly selfishly) don’t think this is good enough. Some forces do manage it, and even follow up on common “non-accidents offenses” like drink driving and using handheld mobile phones.  Some forces (notably West Midlands) take this to something of an extreme, and even fine drivers for overtaking too close to a bicycle. 
Although rather harsh on drivers, this has been a measurably successful approach. Amongst other initiatives, it has led to a 20% cut in road accident victims who are killed or seriously injured. Extended across the 1,800 or so people killed on British Roads every year, this would on average save a life every day; way more than are killed in London stabbings and terrorist attacks combined.

In the same week that I received my letter, our local police force attended in person at 2 separate incidents to investigate cats being killed by foxes in my street. There must be some reprioritisation that could be done. The alternative is that we continue to accept that the lives of pedestrians and cyclists are less important to society than the convenience or pleasure of drivers. 

Diary of a Road Accident Victim Pt VI: Resolution

A summary so far:
I was knocked off my bike by a careless driver about a month ago. She realised her error, was very apologetic, and provided details at the scene, as did a witness who was driving behind me. I wasn't badly hurt beyond cuts and bruises, but my clothes were ruined. It was a struggle to report to the police owing to the need to report it in person at a police station that's only open for 2 hours per week, but the driver's insurers were more helpful.

And now
After a pleasant break over Easter, I arrived home to find that the driver's insurers had offered me £600 in compensation, a little over the £500 I had asked for, but with the caveat that I would need to accept this as full and final settlement. This seemed fair, it was enough to replace the damaged clothes which was really what I was asking for. I completed their form, signed it, got it witnessed, and sent it back today. I think now I just wait for payment so will go through the embarrassing process of getting my measurements made next week.

I won't expect a reply from the police, although they may acknowledge that I reported it.

Epilogue
Despite this happy resolution, it bugs me that the worse the driver behaves - the less they are penalised, and that incentivises drivers to leave pedestrians and riders in the road after an accident. They can't easily be traced unless a passer-by is quick-witted enough to take their registration plate, and therefore will never face any sanctions. Drivers who admit liability and stop to help will their insurance records impacted, but nothing further. Those who follow procedure and not only stop, but report the accident to the police, could end up with a fine and points on their license. Its no wonder that many drivers simply drive on after colliding with cyclists.

Diary of a Road Accident Victim Pt V: Insurance responds

Wednesday

The driver admitted liability to their insurers immediately,  the insurers asked me for an estimate of the cost of the damaged clothes, ideally with receipts. This is a bit tricky - I’ve got no idea. As you may have guessed from my Blog name, my physique is slightly unusual (think of a peeled, hard boiled egg with 4 cocktail sticks poked into it). As a result, most (but not all) of my suits are bespoke. I really couldn’t remember if this one was or not. It was from Austin Reed, which is now closed, so I couldn’t try to find something similar. So eventually a plucked a number out of the air in the range that I’d normally spend on a suit, with a bit more for the shirt. I sent the number off with a selection of photos.

The email from the insurers also said that they would cover any legal fees involved. I toyed with the idea of engaging a solicitor, but then figured that the advice I had already received was fine. 

I dropped off the completed Police form at Wood Street Police Station, aware that by then I had hugely missed the 24 hour deadline required on the form. The same officer on the Front Desk repeated his surprise that this was necessary, they would simply post it to Beds, Cambs & Herts Traffic Police, who already have all the information from the Internet form.  I had the feeling that was the last I would hear from the police. I assumed that the driver hadn’t reported it, which is an offence in itself, but probably not one that Police would have the resources to follow up. 

With Easter approaching, I wasn’t expecting any more responses for a while, so we will pick up when either the insurers, or the police, respond.

To be continued....