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June 18 Sun sunny! 22º C Bicycle touring England An English breakfast of coffee, eggs, bacon, toast and jam, grapefruit, cereal. Just a little fuel for our bicycle touring bellies. For lunch we had chicken salad and trifle for dessert. We sat at the picnic table in the courtyard and enjoyed the sun and calm. When Alastair went to watch the semi-final rugby match England vs New Zealand, Bruni offered to drive us into London to see Camden Market. Camden Market is very much like Beverwijk's black market, but Camden Market has far more interesting and weird people of all shapes, sizes and colours to watch. The hair colors at Camden Market are mainly green, orange, red, blue, or yellow -- or a combination of the hues. My blue-haired brother Scott, Huckleberry as the elders call him, would fit right in. And Camden Market denizens sport lots of earrings in all sorts of hurtful places. The best costume went to a woman with green scarves in her hair. Lots of Madonna clothed -- or lack of clothes-style, too. Bruni's godchild, Mattius, went with us. He is ten and he is interested in collector comic books. He bought two Batman comics and assured us they were "really old." "How old?" I had to ask. "Oh, two years," was his reply. "I have a really really old one at home. Fifteen years!" I guess it's considered old when something is older than one's age. We bought a fragrant candle (to spice up the musty tent smell) and a book. I had better start reading soon, or my book collection will outweigh my bike. And just when we're back into the hills. Sharon liked the antique section of Camden Market. Fortunately we're touring England on bicycles and can't haul a whole lot of antiques with us. No matter how great the price may be. We met Mattius's parents, Anne and Mikhail. They are psychologists. He is doing his degree. They live in North London. Bruni said Anne and Mikhail's little house and yard cost more than Alastair and Bruni's cottage in Tring. After a supper of chicken, chutney, and trifle, I phoned home. To my surprise and delight, Mom answered the phone -- an early birthday present for me. We caught up on all the news. Mom is allowed to leave the hospital where she's being treated for breast cancer and go home for weekend visits. Mom is going to have eight chemo treatments, instead of six -- the doctors say eight is the optimum. She says she has no hair left. Just like a baby. I wanted to know if she has a smooth or bumpy head. She says it is bumpy. My brother, Scott's, apartment in Vancouver was broken into last weekend when he was up for a visit. The thieves stole the TV and VCR and all the CDs and tapes, but not his computer. They were going to steal his computer -- they had unhooked one of the wires on the back and must have figured it would take too long to remove all of the connections. Scott has a ton of peripherals. Mom said Madeleine from France had sent the photos that Madeleine had taken while we were staying on on French bicycle tour. After my phone call, the neighbors, Terry and Joyce -- the slug killers -- invited us over for a drink. They had a barbecue, since, as they told us, it is one of the two nice days they get each year. Terry and Joyce sell grandfather clocks from their home. Friends of theirs, Rodney and Jenny were over. Everyone has a great sense of humour. They asked lots of questions about bicycle touring in England. They couldn't believe that anyone would want to cycle around the world. Neither can I. The rugby highlights came on at 11:30 PM. Alastair explained the basic rules to us. A match is 90 minutes. The highlights, with commentary, slow-mo, replays, and various camera angles and reverse angles, takes an hour. From what I saw of it, rugby looks a much better game for spectators than the slow paced grid-iron football. |
