Rain Along the Thames
It had been raining for days in London – the kind of rain that doesn’t excite, it just persists. The city is home, a base for travelling and family, but when the weather closes in like this it feels claustrophobic. The buildings seem closer. The air hangs heavier. Movement becomes a chore.
I wanted to be out of the city, rolling through countryside under open skies - but this was not possible. So, I dragged my bike up the cellar steps anyway.
I decided on a familiar route - heading out along the south side of the Thames, crossing at Woolwich towards London City Airport before returning via the City and Houses of Parliament - and set out grumpily, the traffic and puddles on the road to Tower Bridge doing little to lift my mood.
But then at Bermondsey the traffic started to thin. The cycle path began following the river. Heading east towards the estuary, the Thames slowly started to widen and the dense skyline loosened its grip.
I paused just beyond the Thames Barrier to look back at the city. There, listing heavily in the river mud, was the shell of a ferry, its rusting body covered in slime and graffiti. Unable to go anywhere, its decay seemed to be witnessed only by pigeons nesting in its belly.
36.5 km • London Bridge → Thames Barrier → Docklands → London Bridge
Start / Finish : London Bridge train station
I’d originally hoped to take the Woolwich ferry for the short hop across the Thames. But, eyeing my approach, a ferry worker in a high-viz jacket emerged from his hut by the entrance road.
“There’s been a medical emergency on the ferry. You’ll be waiting at least 45 minutes,” he said, nodding towards two ambulances parked just off the roundabout. “The foot tunnel’s open but the lift’s not working. If you go that way you’ll have to carry your bike up and down the steps. About a hundred or so each side,” he added helpfully, returning to the shelter of his hut.
Great, I thought – and then caught myself. I walked under the river, now happily imagining the water flowing just above me and enjoying the reprieve from the weather. On the other side I carried my bike up the hundred or so steps and emerged into the rain once again, only to find a young couple with a pushchair regarding the out-of-order sign on the lift door with dismayed resignation.
I stopped once I’d reached at the dock opposite London City Airport. Here, I could watch planes taking off and landing just across the water. During lockdown their absence had been deeply unsettling. Once flights had resumed, I’d celebrated the sight of each one. Now the planes taxied, turned and took off as if nothing had happened.
I watched a British Airlines jet as it slowly trundled to the end of the short runway. It turned, paused and then with engines roaring it accelerated, climbing into the low clouds over the Docklands. I watched until it disappeared, then turned back home, smiling.