Public bike pumps? I'll drink to that

A public bicycle pump has been installed near Waterloo station, on Kennington Road outside the Three Stags Pub, my old south London stomping ground.

This exciting news, and picture, comes from the SE1 website.

It's another inventive cycle-parking initiative from Anthony Lau. Other works of Anthony's I've blogged about before include the Cyclehoop (which converts lamp-posts and street signs into cycle parking) and a car-shaped bike rack (which has been doing the rounds of south London, sometimes taking locked bikes with it when it gets moved).

Putting the bike pump outside a pub is an excellent idea. If your tyres are a bit flat you can top them up easily, and enjoy a beer while you do so.

If only London's outrageously short-measure pub pints were as easily seen to. Living in York does have its advantages.

Cheers! Brewer celebrates bike trip with special ale

We spotted this special cycling beer on sale in a Shropshire pub over the weekend, during a biking break in the hills round Church Stretton.

The one-off 30-60 Challenge ale comes from Wood Brewery, based in Craven Arms (that's a place, not a pub). It marks a bike trip by its MD, Edward Wood. He's celebrating his 60th birthday (and the 30th of the brewery) by cycling from Land's End to John O'Groats, and he starts today (he's on Twitter, too).

Edward is raising money for Midlands Air Ambulance, and 10p from every pint goes towards to the charity. The deliciously hoppy brew quickly became the official beer of our weekend too. In the Green Dragon pub in Little Stretton - which, incidentally, does quite the best pub chips any of us could remember - we must have contributed enough to buy them a helicopter already.

Good luck, Edward. We think the idea of celebratory biking brews is an outstanding one. Perhaps you might do some commissions for us, too, when you get back?

Anyway, here's some ideas for one-off, London-based, cycling ales:
• Cycling Superhighways Special - identical to beer that was there before, only coloured blue
• Boris Blond - lots of fizz and energy, flows smoothly, but no taste
• Council Cream - dull and thin; only comes in half-measures, and liable to give headaches
• TfL Tipple - mostly froth, and a watered-down feel

Cycle lanes: A load of Jackson Pollocks

US abstract painter Jackson Pollock, aka 'Jack the Dripper', was a Real Cyclist.

We know this from Ed Harris's portrayal of him in the 2000 film Pollock. In once scene, a drunken Pollock ferries a basketload of beer home, only to crash en route (right), creating an impromptu artwork across the tarmac.

(And, hah, helmet advocates! He's not wearing a helmet and look, he's PERFECTLY OK! Well, they say that drunks fall in a relaxed way.)

Excitingly, new research by academics over at Waltham Forest suggests that Pollock created an early work in north London, presumably while cycling, too.

Ale and hearty in Hamburg

More news in from our Hamburg office. At last week's car-free jamboree, detailed in previous post today, there were bottles of beer on offer.

'Radler' is an alternative word to 'Radfahrer' ('cyclist') and this particular brand was the prize awarded by the German equivalent of the CTC to anyone who answered a few questions on the German Highway Code correctly.


We think this is an excellent initiative, and has the advantage of being self-regulating: come back too many times trying to score another free beer and you'll be unable to remember the answers.

(Thanks to Ulf of the Allgemeine Deutsche Fahrrad-Club for the pics.)

Bar-bicycle: it's a winner

When people tell you how they'd spend their lottery winnings, they're so generous, aren't they? They'd pay off their friends' mortgages, give most of it to charity, and just keep a modest, sensible amount for themselves. Then they sit back to bask in your admiration, and wait for you to buy the next round.

Well, if I won the lottery, I wouldn't pay off any of your mortgages, or support Battersea Dogs Home. But no yachts, Bentleys or swimming pools for me either.

I'd buy a shedload of bikes of all sorts, including at least one like this beer-vending machine: the apparent result of a collision between a bicycle and a dinghy-sized refrigerator. It's an esky with wheels, a mobile bar, a picnic on pedals. It plies a nice summer trade in the astroturf park outside the National Theatre. You charge the fridge up overnight and it keeps your party cool for about five hours, according to the amiable guy behind it.

Business in ice-cold lager wasn't brisk on Thursday night - this, you recall, was the evening deluge when 40mm fell in central London in six hours, compared to the monthly average of 51mm. Actually those figures sound worse in inches, whatever that would be.

The bike is made by www.businessonwheels.co.uk, and you can pick up a brand spanking new one for under two and a half grand, which I reckon, quite seriously, is a snip. Must rush out and buy a lottery ticket. And maybe I was lying about the swimming pool.

Cheers! A large capacity bike

I'm spending a lot of my time at the moment cycling down to south London for rehearsals. This often involves taking a lot of gear: costumes, scores, props and other necessary items. After some research I decided this bike would be ideal. As well as opera companies, it might suit others with large requirements, such as sports teams, partners reluctantly pressured into doing DIY, and so on.

It ain't over till the fat lady cycles home

I've been to both the big London opera houses in the last few days: English National Opera last Saturday night (for the Magic Flute, and the Royal Opera House last night (for Korngold's Die tote Stadt).

There's something unforgettable about the rush of cycling home on a high after an evening of gorgeous music, superbly sung and enticingly staged.

On the other hand, getting on your bike can be a welcome relief after three hours of tedious Germanic shrieking.

Here's a quick compare-and-contrast of the most important aspects for the cyclist: 1. Cycle parking; 2. Proximity of beer; 3. Musical quality.

Wandering round the foyer in casual clothes toting panniers is not a problem at ENO, which is unpretentious - people generally wear what they would to Pizza Express. At ROH there are more posh frocks and designer suits, and people you've seen on the telly, and a notable absence of reflective jackets or cycling mitts. Turn up there in lycra longs and you might feel a few raised eyebrows burning a hole in your back.

Obviously, you won't be drinking in either of the opera house bars, unless you urgently need some small change in return for a twenty quid note and two glasses of Chilean Cab Sauv, or unless someone else is paying.

Both places do cheap restricted-view/last-minute deals (check their websites) though snagging these requires time, luck and patience.

As to which is 'better', a quick straw poll of star ratings on the reviews site www.musicalcriticism.com suggests that pretty much everything at either place seems to get between three and four out of five (which confirms my experiences). ROH is glitzier, but you can't say one automatically outsings the other.

Productions can be more lavish (though not necessarily more inventive) at ROH. At ENO's Magic Flute for example, they have trained pigeons; at ROH's recent Carmen, Escamillo entered on a real horse. Mind you, he did look pretty damn nervous, and liable to do something that needed clearing up any minute. So did the horse.

English National Opera (ENO)
Coliseum, by Trafalgar Square (right)
Cycle parking Nothing right by entrance. Sheffield stands 100m south of entrance, but often full. Lots of Sheffield racks round the north side, in Mays Court, 150m away, well used but always space.
Drinking The Chandos, a few doors south on the corner, is woody, well-patronised, and does Sam Smith's bitter for £1.88 a pint (not an offer, but a regular deal). It's perfectly possible, indeed recommended, to have a pint here during the interval. After the show, go up bizarre Brydges Place, perhaps London's narrowest alley, directly south of the entrance. On the right halfway along is The Harp, a pocket-size pub where the orchestra hang out. You can tell they're orchestra because they're not talking about music.
Music All performances in English (with surtitles). Generally more 'up-and-coming' (ie younger, slimmer, non-diva) singers than ROH; more fanciable sopranos and tenors. Prices £10-£85ish.

Royal Opera House (ROH)
Covent Garden (right)
Cycle parking Sheffield racks right opposite main entrance. More racks nearby in Bow St.
Drinking Wellington at bottom of Bow St is usual London prices. Has outside tables.
Music All performances in original language (with surtitles in English). Generally older, fatter singers than ENO; more Premiership-style international big names (ie expensive foreign imports who often dazzle but sometimes pull out mysteriously). Prices £10-£120ish.

At ROH last night, I was pleased to find two other normal-looking cyclists locking up at the same time as me on their way in to the opera. As we did so, a chap told us to park somewhere else because that area, right in front of the entrance, is prone to theft; well-intentioned advice no doubt, but we ignored him, partly because we had two chunky locks each, and partly because he was wearing a red bowler hand and sparkly waistcoast. I hope his excuse was being a street entertainer.