The Wreck of the Depecker

The return leg of the Depecker’s first commute was going very promisingly until I got to Deptford Creek, when the chain fell off.

That was easily fixed, but as I passed Trinity Hospital on the Thames Path there was a god-almighty crashing noise and the rear wheel locked up. The chain had fallen off into the space between the derailleur and the spokes and bits of derailleur were on the pavement.

I’m no professional, so I may be wrong, but I took that to be a bad omen.

The nice thing is, I was only a couple of hundred yards from home, so I carried the bike the rest of the way.

But there’s no chance of me sorting it out before Eroica on Friday, so I’m going to try and rent an Eroica bike.

The other good thing is, it’s better for it to fall apart after 7.3 miles of a 7.5-mile commute and carry it the rest of the way, than after 7.5 miles of a 55-mile ride, and carry it the rest of the way.


Rainy Avignon

I think it rained on only one day while I was away, and that was my first full day in Avignon. It was so heavy it reminded me of the monsoon, but it makes the grapes grow, and nobody seemed to mind too much.

Cartier-Bresson’s duck

In L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue the ducks paddle around on the beautiful stream oblivious to their ancestor’s place in photographic history.

This is my duck:


This is Cartier-Bresson’s duck, going in the other direction:

Possibly the only good photograph of a duck in the whole history of photography and ducks …and that’s because he took it at the duckisive moment.