Brush with a bike-symbol artist

They're resurfacing the bike path at the east side of Hyde Park. The Bicycle Artist was at work, making his highly symbolic cement-paint creations.


He's a practised hand. It takes him less than five minutes to do a bike.


He must be a proper artist, not just an artisan, because he expresses himself mainly through his art, not words. How many bikes can you paint in a day? Oh, quite a few. How long have you been doing this? Oh, quite a while. How many bike lanes do you do in a week? Oh, now you're asking. Quite a lot.

So that's two artists in two days, following Real Cyclist Ed Gray yesterday. Wonder if this chap does commissions? He could do some in our front yard.

Is this the right way?: The City's new contraflows

New bike contraflows with custom signs are all the rage in London these days. Permeability is the new black. Two-way cycling is the new Twitter. Being shouted at by a taxi driver who thinks the street is still one-way is the new rock and roll.

The City is the latest borough to unveil a set. Five opened today, in West Smithfield, Cloth Fair, Salisbury Court, Creechurch Lane and Finsbury Circus. (Fann St, a purported sixth, doesn't count as it's two-way for traffic.)

Last week I discussed Kensington and Chelsea's contribution to the counter-directional cycling movement. Taking advantage of relaxed new government guidelines on signing such things, they show the entrance to a contraflow with the hitherto illegal combination of 'no entry' sign plus plate saying 'Except cyclists'.


The City, of course, like doing things their own way. Not for them the bully-boy tactics of the Met Police, for instance, arresting cyclists for going down a deserted pavement when cars flagrantly ignore ASLs on the adjacent road. No. They have their own force, the City Police, for arresting cyclists for going down a deserted pavement when cars flagrantly ignore ASLs on the adjacent road.

So no surprise that the City have their own approach to signing: for them it's the 'stunt motorbike' sign (above right), of a powered two-wheeler vaulting a car, denoting 'no motor vehicles' - so, by implication, allowing cycles. They paint a mini-give-way line with a bike, and hey presto, there's your contraflow.


At the other end, they warn incoming drivers of oncoming cyclists with a sign we rather like. It says ONCOMING CYCLISTS (right). To us, that concisely informs drivers that there may be cyclists oncoming. It's often reinforced with one of those blue signs that looks like a bike taking a ride down in a lift.


There's also a temporary sticker mounted on the kerbside saying LOOK BOTH WAYS (right). It's very well-designed, in an eye-catching yellow and blue. I nearly ran over two people who were staring at the sticker while walking across in front of me.

Anyway, I explored the five new contraflows this morning. Some are so new they were still having the finishing touches from the construction crew. They're all rather shorter and more obscure than you might expect from the coverage they've had in the press.


Salisbury Court (pictured right, and very top right) is being touted as now enabling a continuous backstreet alternative to going up New Bridge St, north from Blackfriars Bridge. In practice nobody will be able to find it until this notional route is signposted; it'll be a useful, though very minor, aid to permeability, when commuters eventually manage to find it.

West Smithfield makes it now possible to cycle away from Carluccio's if you've been eating there, instead of having to push your bike 20m.


Cloth Fair (right and second-top right) smooths and shortens the way for cyclists going north from say St Paul's to the Barbican (along the satisfyingly named Little Britain).

Finsbury Circus is useful for cyclists going to, well, Finsbury Circus. There must be some of them I suppose.

And Creechurch Lane's southern end, thrillingly situated at the foot of the Gherkin, provides a bit more permeability for those going south through the City, enabling a faster escape for bankers keen to spend their Christmas bonus before the lynch mobs arrive.

I was the only cyclist using all of them. As ever in the city, all of them had parked delivery vehicles, meaning quite a bit of squeezy-pasty stuff when I was using the contraflow and a vehicle was coming the other way. But, as ever in the city, drivers waved cheerily with their fingers, indicating I was the first cyclist they'd seen using the new facility, or perhaps the second. Nah, seriously, I didn't have a problem. It seemed like they'd not only seen the signs but actually understood them. Unlike the Copenhagen Summit.

In sum, it's not much. But it's a start. As they say, 'Every journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step, before the City Police stop you and ask why you're taking photographs'.

Gnashing of teeth on Nine Elms Lane

I cycled out and back along Nine Elms Lane for a session at the dentist yesterday. As usual, I coped with the searing pain and helpless discomfort by seeking refuge in black humour.

I'm not talking about the dentist, but Nine Elms Lane. Its southern side has the second-worst cycle lane in London.

It's a succession of dangerous nonsenses. For instance, the lane will disappear abruptly (top right) for no clear reason; perhaps Lord Lucan used to cycle this way.


Or the lane will be blocked by a sign (right). With pleasing circularity, this one warns road users that the bus lane might have a bike in it, presumably because there's no room in the bike lane, because it's blocked by the sign.


Only one cycle lane in London is worse than Nine Elms Lane's southern side. And that's Nine Elms Lane's northern side. I blogged about it back in January, but the good news is, it seems something's being done at last. Until now the cycle lane has been blocked at regular points along its path by signs, posts, bus stops and electricity boxes. Now there's an additional blockage in the shape of a road crew (right).


Perhaps they're constructing an exciting tunnel by-pass. Or installing some sculptures to look at during your constant dismountings.

Or perhaps, at long last, they're just giving the Nine Elms bike lane a decent burial.

Ma bike lane's bin murr derred sirr!

This is central London, so when we block cycle lanes, it's with style. No mere broken WKD bottles or smeary discarded kebabs for us.

This is the contraflow bike lane going down from Waterloo Bridge to the South Bank, blocked up last night by filmcrew stuff. No signs, no alternative route: you're forced out with no notice into oncoming traffic. At least, in the spotlight, you can audition for Britain's Got Talent during your final seconds.

The handiwork was that of Scottish TV, filming a murr derr scene for detective series Taggart. In fact, they couldn't film because just after I took the pic, the heavens opened for business and deluged central London all evening. So the film crew had to stand around inside, kick their heels doing nothing for five hours, and just swop apocryphal stories about famous people they've worked with. Instead of business as usual, which is to stand around outside, kick their heels doing nothing for five hours, and just swop apocryphal stories about famous people they've worked with.

Some might criticise the tedious Glaswegian gumshoe as being unrealistic; like every other screen cop all he does is investigate (and invariably solve) unawful killings. But actually, screen cops are true to life in one way. You never see real police chasing drivers who block ASLs, chatter on their phone, or speed through residential roads either. Or give a toss about blocked cycle lanes.

Bad parking: Moral Upper Ground again

Upper Ground is a handy back road just south of the river. It's one way westwards for cars, but a contraflow bike lane lets you whizz eastwards from the South Bank to Blackfriars Bridge Road.

Except that it doesn't, because of the cabs waiting for their clients outside a posh hotel. They block the bike lane and force us out into the traffic flow coming the other way.


I had to jag out so suddenly that I almost spilt some of the carpet tacks I happened to be carrying. Phew. Good job I didn't! I'd hate to lose them, because the police would never be able to find me to return them, especially as they had no fingerprints on them because of the thin plastic gloves I had on. Not to mention that broken glass I was taking to the recycling point.

Anyway, by the usual remarkable coincidence, their number plate tells us everything we need to know about driver. And no doubt passenger.

Astronomically bad parking

Yet another example of terrible and selfish parking, from the Apollo 15 mission of 1971.

Even though there is plenty of space here in Mare Imbrium, lunar rover driver David Scott has chosen to park right across this bike lane, forcing cyclists into an unpleasant and dangerous detour round Hadley Rille.

Isn't this just typical? We can put a man on the moon - yet we can't install reliable, safe cycle facilities.

Bike lanes: Use it or lose it

Something that infuriates motorists, understandably, is when they see cycle facilities that aren't being used. (Freewheeler recently brought a pertinent example to our attention in his home territory of Waltham Forest.)

Here's one in Liverpool Grove, just off Walworth Road in south London. In the ten years I've been around here, I've never seen a single cyclist using this bike lane. It clearly can't be the fault of the parked car - that's in a marked bay, placed quite legally. Use it or lose it, guys!

Call the police! Oh - it is the police

This handy bike cut-through is in Museum St, just in front of the British Museum. I cycle this way every morning. I'm sure the police car briefly blocking it yesterday had a perfectly good reason. Perhaps they were buying a Daily Mail, or catching Austrian tourists who were photographing bus shelters.

Private view, public shambles: William St bike lane

Sunny summer evenings roaming London on a bike are bliss. What's all this rubbish about it being expensive? Cultivate a few artistic acquaintances with ambitions to stage an exhibition, and thanks to London's thriving industry in Private Views, you'll never pay for a glass of wine or Dorito again.

We were at just such a vernissage last night (I only learnt that word the other day, so I have to use it all the time now). It was ¡Cuba libre!, a vibrant exhibition of photos from the country, in the flag-festooned embassy quarter of Belgrave Square. Several photos in the display include bikes, including my favourite pic: this rallying-cry with a picture of Che.

Of course, Ernesto himself was more of a motorbike man, but I'm sure when he did get in the saddle he was all for the ideals of real cycling. As were the attendees: Belgrave Square's upmarket railings were bristling with bikes.


And en route, going down William St off posh Knightsbridge, was more free entertainment: another of those strange criss-crossing bike lanes that some London boroughs like so much. (Google Street View shows it nicely.)

Evidently northbound bikes, going with the one-way traffic, are expected to swoop across to the right-hand side. Here they rub shoulders, panniers and pedals with the southbound bikes, who are squeezed into a vertical limbo dance between the door-opening zone of parked cars on their left and the oncoming traffic - and cyclists - immediately on their right. It looks harmless in theory (top) but in practice (bottom) you'll be ready for a couple of defibrillating daiquiris at your Private View afterwards.

Bad bike lane in the dock

The cycle route to the Museum in Docklands, where we went yesterday, is very clearly signposted.


Just follow the bike lane and you can't miss it.

Oh no, not that Tavistock Place story again

Tavistock Place's separate cycle lane is like visiting an ageing relative who always tells the same old stories. You spend ages trying to get through to them, then when you finally do, they won't let you go.

Getting on it, for example. My natural route is to join it from the south and turn right, the same direction as this van is turning in the photo. But thanks to it being a separated cycle lane, I have to cross not one, but three lines of traffic; to wait for a simultaneous gap in not two, but four lines. It's like waiting for planetary alignments. I end up coat-tailing a taxi and making the sort of nervous, promiscuous eye contact you get in a student disco.

Then after a couple of hundred metres I turn left. Except that the way the lights are phased, the traffic turns left first, across the cycle lanes (next photo). What you get is the mild chaos of the above student disco at chucking out time: some cyclists wait patiently; others jag out right to rejoin the car lane and turn left across the two cycle lanes, strictly adhering to the lights; others plough straight through regardless.

So this particular separated cycle lane, as I've banged on about before, only makes things worse in my opinion. As does every other particular example I can think of (such as the fiasco at Waterloo roundabout that plunges you into a bus-stop lagoon). Not only do they create problems at every interface with the rest of the traffic, they also suggest to drivers that cyclists 'ought to be' out of the way.

What I'd like to see more of is permeability, something of a current buzzword. More blotting paper streets, more capillary action, more ease and spontaneity and ability to use any combination of side roads and alleys. That means, essentially, making every one-way street two-way for cycles as of standard. The recent announcement that five City one-way streets will be made two-way for bikes as an experiment this summer is therefore a welcome first step, but a pitifully small and timid one.

As, no doubt, I'll cover in some future post... rather like that loquacious old relative. Nurse! Nurse! They've stolen my clothes!

Arrowing experience in Tavistock Place

Tavistock Place, paralleling Euston Road to the south, has a separated two-way cycle path. I’ve had my doubts about it before. To me this bicycle flume creates more problems than it solves, like the uncle whose fussy, jumbled puncture-repair lessons simply confused you when you were little.

So I was delighted when I cycled past this bit en route to Kings Cross on Saturday morning. You’re assaulted by arrows, as if being attacked by anticyclones from a BBC weather map (above right).

True to form, Tavistock Pl’s bike experience makes even going in a straight line complicated: a chiasmus that switches you from drive-on-left to drive-on-right. You half-expect passport control and customs.

It reminded me of another celebrated change of side: Savoy Court, off Strand (right). It’s one of the chapters in my 50 Quirky Bike Rides book. This is the only unseparated road in the country where you legally drive both ways on the right (though strictly speaking it’s a private road, not a public highway).

Hence my pleasure at finding this additional two-way wrong-side stretch in Tavistock Place: a Place where you can experience what it’s like cycling in the Netherlands.

In terms of which side you cycle on, anyway. Obviously not in terms of the cycle path quality.