Ever thought about doing a trip by bicycle? If you've ever considered it, I think you'll like today's entry. It goes back to May of 1980 when I left America headed for my second trip to Europe. If you recall, the first trip took place in '78 and was done on a three-month railpass. Well, the '80 tour would last for 6 months, three of which would be done by bike and the other three by whatever way possible short of hitchhiking. The bike was a Jackson and was bought at a bike shop in London where the trip started. The shop was located in the subrubs and run by a woman. She helped my select the bike and the bags to go with it. It would be my constant companion for the summer months. I remember the afternoon I went over to pick it up. I'd put all my things in plastic bags so they could be transfered to the bike bags, four of them in all, two on the front wheel and two on the back. It was a warm sunny afternoon that I sat out for Cambridge, my first planned stopped. I think one of the greatest moments of my life was seeing my reflection in the shop windows, peddling through north London on my way to the first roundabout that would put me on the M11 motorway. You see, I was a boy who don't learn to ride a bicycle until I was 14. So to see my image cycling through Europe blew my mind.

Back then, you had to cycle right along side the motorway traffic on a narrow path. I remember that first roundabout for two reasons. First, because it seemed so strange to me to see traffic on a freeway coming at you from all angles, and secondly, because it was at that spot that I first noticed trouble with my bike. One of the screws that held the back support panel for the bike bags had come out and now the metal arm was rubbing a groove into the rubber of the tire. I could see it, I could smell the rubber burning each time the wheel turned. To make matters worst, I had no extra screws or tools to fix it even if I did. And this is how my bicycle tour of Europe began. i was much too far to turn around an dhead back to the bike shop. It would have been closing by the time I got there anyway.

So. I had to reduce my speed basically to a crawl to cut down on the friction. The best part about it was that at least it didn't get dark until long after ten that time of the year and so I did have daylight on my side. The trie rubbing against the metal bar was slowing me down and tiring me out. I could never make it to Cambridge like that. I had to do something. And that something was a town called Harlow. I arrived at nightfall. There was a police car at the entrance to the village. The two cops gave me directions to the local youth hostel and the bike shop. What they didn't tell me (and I'm sure they knew) and that the local hostel was closed for renovation. So after cycling all the way down this long rode I had to cycle all the way back. I didn't want to get too far away from the bike shop so I ended up rolling out my sleeping bag in the town's cemetery. The graveyard was between the hostel and the bike shop and as far as I could go. I was exhausted . So my first night on the rode on my bike tour was spent concealed among tombstones, bike and all. But dawn arrived at 3am so it wasn't so bad. And I knew no one venture into a cemertery so I felt safe.

I was the first customer when the bike shop opened at seven. A woman run that place too. She was nice though. She gave me hot tea and had one of her workers go out and buy some sweet rolls. They fixed my bike and even gave me extra screws and a couple of tools. Then she put me on a "back road" to Cambridge so I could "see more". And I did. It was an up and down country road pass rolling green hills dotted with manor houses. But I thought I'd never get to Cambridge. I finally did arrive that afternoon and quickly got my tent set-up at the local campsite. I stayed there 3 days and had a wonderful time. I took the flat back road to Ely the next day to photograph the church with the tallest steeple in Europe.

On my way back I stopped in the park overlooking the River Cam to see a rowing team and that's where I met "the brain". He was second generation Jamician and one of that year's outstanding graduates from King's College. We sat on a park bench and talked for an hour and then he invited me to eat with him at the dinning hall for the college. This place was amazing! It had all these painting on the wall, stained glass windows, and these long tables looking like they were Hollywood props. That evening he ivited me to the White horse Pub, one that dates back to the 1700's. He introduced me to some of his buddies including those two radical Irish students. On our way to the pub we passed this photogrpahy studio. I always like to see how local professional photographers display their shop windows so I walked over to take a closer look. And there was "the brain" along with about 4 other students photogrpahed with Prince Charles in the middle. He modestly explained that Charles was an alumnae and had personally come to congradulate those outstanding class leaders. Wow! When I pressed him about his future plans (he was really modest) he said he wanted to be the first English historian of color. "The brain" would go on to become the first London nightly news anchorman of color and then some 15 years later, would be the person Princess Diana confided to in her "tell-all" interview that aired worldwide. Talk about the people I've met!

Get more info at: www.visitcambridge.org or www.cambridge.gov.uk

Also visit Maurice Oliver's poetry blog at: www.bloxster.net/mauriceoliver

Copyright 2005 by Maurice Oliver. All Rights Reserved.