29 August 2010

The cream of cricket: What a mess at Lord's

Sooner or later, every pannier I have ends up smelling of sour milk.

Because sooner or later, despite the lessons of history, I'm tempted to transport a pot of cream. And sooner or later, trapped under something heavy - a bottle of water, say, or a folder full of job rejections - said container explodes, transforming the pannier in a white-out instant into a milky Chernobyl. Ortlieb becomes Prypiat.

My lactose-emulsive cataclysm came yesterday, cycling to see the final England-Pakistan test at Lord's. (No cycle parking at all, but some handy hire-bike docking stations.)

Possibly under the weight of my picnic lunch, possibly following an over-enthusiastic baggage search, the tub of Tesco's double lavishly self-destructed.

'Suitable for pouring, whipping and cooking', it says on the tub. It should add 'unsuitable for carting around in over-stuffed bike panniers'.

I spent the first hour of play mopping up fugitive lagoons of cream from me, from the concrete floor, from fellow spectators. It was like a bomb in a Dulux factory, a new shade in the Exxon Valdez range, snowdrift with a hint of stale Camembert.

I flushed out the pannier in the gents with an OCD rigour but it still reeks, inevitably, of baby sick.

What a terrible, sad, needless, sticky mess; a mess that can never be properly cleaned up; a day that will be grimly remembered by all those involved. And that's just Pakistan's batting.

Remember, when transporting hazardous foodstuffs by bicycle, there is a line you shouldn't cross, a mark you shouldn't overstep. Same goes for Pakistan's bowling.


  1. I can feel your pain. You need a trailer!

  2. What you need is a Lock'n'lock container to put it in (avoid all imitations)

  3. You just need to break this absurd cream habit! After all, it's downhill going home from Lords, so you don't need it as fuel.

  4. A couple of weeks ago I sideswiped a parked car with one of my panniers on the way back from Tesco (this is why I don't drive a car). One of the six eggs I bought cracked and slowly dripped down over everything in my pannier.

    This gave me a good excuse to clear out the winter's detritus out of my pannier, as I mopped egg white (who knew each egg contains a gallon of white?) off of gloves, bungee cords, broccoli and fluorescent yellow rain trousers. Sigh.

  5. That's very witty. I enjoyed that :0)
    Rode one of ypou Quirkies a couple of weeks ago. I enjoyed that too.