ON THE ROADS

On the Roads of Flanders

One of the striking things about spending a few days in Flanders was seeing how civilized the roads were. This came as a surprise, as my friend Robert, living in France, has completely absorbed the French view of Belgian drivers as aggressive and dangerous, and Robert has passed this insight on to me. In reality, though, apart from a fondness for tailgating (which may be what annoys the French) we found Belgian drivers quite harmless. That said, we did pass a series of major shunts on the motorway north of Ghent one morning, in which tailgating was no doubt a major factor. What struck me, though, was an absence of apparent aggression, both on the open road and, especially, in town. For the Londoner, this came as a revelation. Urban driving was remarkably considerate, and as a visitor you had to adapt to that quite quickly, because co-existence is clearly the basic principle in Belgium. As a cyclist, I was very pleased to see the way that cars took care of bicycles, but it was clear that the cycling and motoring cultures are both different in Belgium from the UK. We looked carefully as we drove and walked around Ghent, and saw hundreds of cyclists, of whom only two were wearing helmets. Those two were also the only ones riding what we in England would now call road bikes (what we called racing bikes when we were children); there were a few hybrids, but the great majority were riding what we call Dutch bikes, the sit-up-and-beg style, relatively heavy-framed and slow, but comfortable and equipped for carrying stuff. I presume that this means that lots of Belgians have a second bike at home, which they just get out at the weekend for long leisure rides (or to go fast) as I suppose I do. Most Brits, though, seem to have just the one bike, which they use for commuting as well as fun, and so they want it to be capable of speed. The difference, though, is not just about the bikes, but about the attitude,  because most cyclists in London are desperate to get from one place to another as fast as they can, and so the serene progress of a Dutch bike would be unacceptable. It wasn't just that the Flemish motorists were better-mannered than you would find in London, so were the cyclists. It strikes me that a bit of serenity would improve the urban environment all round!


Essex Road

I had plenty of opportunity for car-borne contemplation a couple of Fridays ago, when I drove to see my family on the Essex-Suffolk border. I normally take the train, but Network Rail were doing something that meant that the return journey on Saturday would involve an hour on a bus and then being deposited at Newbury Park (for the uninitiated, it's a station on the Central Line in the outer Essex suburbs, famous for having been built with a car park covered by a spectacular roof). I can understand the rationale for this, but that's not what I call getting home. I have a visceral aversion to the train/bus combination, because it always involves a vast amount of waiting in line (as it is bound to, when you consider the relative capacities of train and bus) and the disturbance in mid-journey is just really tiresome. It's my choice, and I regretted it on this occasion. In favourable conditions (as on the return journey on Saturday evening) the journey to my brother's house should take a little over two hours; on that Friday it took me over four hours. I was already over an hour behind schedule before I reached the M25, and that was without any real problems on the Finchley Road; thereafter there was a delay at every opportunity. Now, I suppose I would have been agitated if I had an appointment I had to get to, and I would have got tense if I had had a passenger, but on my own, just going to see my family with no particular agenda for the evening, I was able to regard the delays with more equanimity. I began to feel that this could be an opportunity for cultivating an attitude of serenity rather than anger, so I worked at that. When totally stationary on the M25, and with the engine off, I called my brother to let him know how I was doing. That gave him an idea of my arrival, but then there was an accident on the A12 (a horrid road at the best of times) and by the time I came off the dual carriageway, to make my way through country lanes, it was pitch dark, and so I got lost a couple of miles from my destination, a journey that in daylight (as planned) I would have done with no problem. I confess that my equanimity was shot to pieces by that, since it was my mistake, and I was theoretically in control of putting it right.  So I did not arrive as calm and serene as I had hoped, and they were just about to start eating dinner, so guilt was added to the mixture!


Local Deliveries    

Today is our biggest event of the year, the Solemn Requiem for All Souls' Day, which St Mary Magdalene's has done for the past forty years or so with a full orchestra and choir, performing a French Romantic setting (this year it is Gounod, and no, you won't have heard it). Since St Mary Magdalene's is full of scaffolding, and St Peter's much too small (and to be truthful, lacking in atmosphere) we had to find another venue. I had to find a church in West London that was not having its own All Souls' Day service, (so probably not Anglo-Catholic) but would not have theological objections to one (so probably not Evangelical). The vital feature was an absence of pews, so we could have space for the orchestra, and of course simply a church that was large enough for orchestra, choir and say two hundred worshippers. Everyone also wanted somewhere Victorian and atmospheric, to suit the spirit of what we do. I found one very suitable church, and was confident I could answer the Vicar's theological queries, but gave up when he told me he would have to take it to the church council, because the idea of trying to convince an entire PCC was just too much. Instead I was directed to Holy Trinity, South Kensington, which is in Prince Consort Road, just behind the Albert Hall, and fits the bill splendidly. They are hugely helpful, but last week they told us that they had just learnt that the road would be closed today because there was a film premiere at the Albert Hall this evening; o joy! So instead of spending today driving around delivering things from here to there, I did it yesterday, and am now on tenterhooks in case I forgot something. I became acquainted with how particularly pushy Kensington drivers are, while I cultivated my equanimity. It all took longer than I had assumed, because I am used to doing these journeys by bike, not car. Today I shall wear my best reflective clothing and ride my bike over there.