Red C90 in London

Hi all,

Well this is a bit naughty because this trip is officially over so I'm not sure I should be blogging anymore, but alas...I'm angry.

I had decided that while unemployed, I would take the opportunity to see people that I don't see all that often. I needed to get down to various parts of London and its not cheap to get loads of public transport in London, in fact it cost a pissing fortune. What better way, thinks I, to get down to London for hardly anything and be able to get around as and when I need to than to ride Red C90! A mere bagatelle I thought as I looked at the route to my brothers in Brixton. I whacked his road into my satnavvy phone thingy just in case I got lost and set off. All told it was at least 2 hours and 45 minutes later that I arrived in Brixton and I was VERY cold, so not a massively smooth trip. I calculated petrol costs at about £1.80 though which is amazing, chuffed with that, a doddle I think...it'll cost me hardly anything this trip.

I park it up down his road and sort myself out (he's not there, can't be arsed to explain). Next day I wake up still in high spirits, only to find that from 8:30 to 5:30 its resident parking only and my little pizza bike has a big yellow c**t stuck on it. I read the ticket..£60 if you pay in 14 days, £120 if not. YES! I think, I love being unemployed. It starts my day off terribly and I proceed to despise the world once more (don't need to point out the lack of ANY problems with the law over 5 weeks riding around Europe). I miserably sit in a cafe reading to try and forget about it. Later I am desperately trying to forget about it as I ride to soho to see someone else. Halfway there I stop for petrol only to reach into my pocket to find my (pretty new) mobile phone gone. I completely panicked and had to re-trace my tracks on a red route in central London looking all over the road for a phone which was probably flat by now. Alas...its just down the road, battery was a few meters away but I re-assemble and it works, its just missing the back so I guess I'll make one out of gaffa tape.

Anyway I breath a sigh of relief for now but still feel like a little naive child who's 'doesn't understand how London works' as people beep me and all that shit. So I park up in a scooter/motorbike bay in soho. I am careful to look for tickets on other bikes, and for a sign, can't see owt so I presume that, like when I spent a lot more time in London as a teenager/scooter rider, they are still free.

I eat and talk.

I find my bike again (almost lost it) and its got..........a ticket on it. £40 if I pay in 14 days, £80 if not. I was beginning to snap out of my resentment for everything ever, and then this. I find some sign miles away which states that you have to call this number between whatever time and whatever time and PAY YOUR PARKING FEE OVER THE PHONE. What the hell?

So...maybe its my fault, I'm a little twurp whatever, I don't care. Maybe its that the law is mental and I can't go anywhere or do anything that I want to. Maybe I was stuck in my Oxford bubble. When you next see me if you are reading this and know me, please don't mention it because its painful.

My £1.80 journey actually costs £101.80 and I have no job, no money...and my self worth has been shot. I've been being all thrifty and trying to save money and when I do HAVE to spend some I have to give it to the government of one of the worlds richest countries, I can't help but feel a bit depressed about that.

Lesson...don't try. Arch de Triomphe is way easier.