I set off this morning for a repeat of the Trinity Rd jaunt to Tooting Bec and I had a couple of podcasts to listen to on the way. A R4 doc from a few weeks ago about startup culture in London, which was, well, just a bit naive - not enough to have me shouting at my mp3-player but certainly worthy of a few exasperated sighs on the edge of Wandsworth Common.
I then finally managed to listen to Debbie Harry's Desert Island Discs, which had some interesting talk (though it was one of those with an American where they aren't really familiar with the format and treat it like any other talk show - ie they don't give anything away that isn't linked to what they're promoting. Maybe I was just feeling uncharitable after the startup documentary). I dunno, I guess I also wanted more of her selections to be like "White Light, White Heat" and to be rooted in my post-punk adolescence, instead of emphasising that she's the same age as my mother.
That took me to Tooting Bec. I didn't fancy a strong coffee in the nice coffee shop there, so I turned right and walked down to Tooting Broadway. There's really some good photography to be done there, lots of interesting buildings still and shop signs. A purple church! But I didn't have my camera out, I was walking walking.
I'd overdone it by the time I got to the Broadway, so I slipped into the new Starbucks rather than try something more artisanal further along. And I sat there and made some notes before being spotted as a "Dadda" by a baby being fed spag bol. This happens a lot. The mothers tell me, it's the beard. Anyone with a beard is "Dadda". I don't remember this from having babies myself, but then perhaps there weren't so many beards around then.
I ignored the fact that I'd overdone it already and started walking up Garratt Lane. The drizzle had started, which was quite refreshing, so I plodded on, thinking about presenting Works In Progress, perhaps doing a monthly thing at C4CC where I talk about what I've been working on. Hmmmmm... I'd actually rather do something in South London - is the South London HackSpace getting anywhere? Ah yes, I see it's in Herne Hill, just that little bit far for me. Still, might be worth a look.
And suddenly I was almost at Earlsfield and my Achilles tendons were getting sore, so I sat at the bus stop and waited for a Number 44. It went 3 stops and the driver had to get out to go to the loo. That's never happened to me before. As someone else on the bus said, he'd only got on at Tooting, he should have gone before he started work. But you never know what's going on with people's waterworks, do you? No, and I don't want to know particularly, thank you.
In the end the bus ride from Earlsfield took about 45 minutes because of the traffic. So I was actually out for quite a while altogether. I wonder what I missed.