It was snowy enough on the peaks - up in the southern ranges round Forest Hill - for the toboggans to be out in force yesterday. But still not much snow in central London, though there's a fair bit of ice on side roads. It's all rather boring really: cycling isn't especially enjoyable, but neither is there the prospect of a snowman session to lighten things up.
Our road near the Elephant was finally gritted (right) the other day. The council team were quite keen I should take a picture to prove they'd been out. No doubt they've taken over from bankers as the villains of the moment. Being a cyclist, and therefore regarded as little more than a wheeled pavement assassin, I sympathised.
Evidently no shortage of the gritty stuff here: there was enough to make a few sandcastles. Once we'd cleared off the donkeys and deckchair sellers, the ice went, and we could actually cycle round the block again.
But a different story in posh Cleaver Square round the corner (right). The road is little more than a four-sided rink. No way you can cycle on the road or the pavement. Progress is a Bambi-like slither, half-pushing, half-leaning-on your bike. How are all those cycling Tory MPs getting back to the House?