Walking to observe and notice

Off the beaten path

Not down the usual walking route did I ply but rather down the Ashton Canal towpath from Paradise Wharf to Islington Wharf between which mechanical cranes and hoists of history have become monuments of the industries that once thrived here. Now, we have bijoux apartments and waterfront properties, a kind of exclusivity not nearly as exciting as it seems apart from when the canal forms an aqueduct over Store Street.

The further straight on this towpath leads to isolation, but for a sunny day, many are walking in groups to and fro, a kind of busy that is usually reserved for football match days but let us not be distracted from our surroundings and the oncoming traffic of senseless cyclists. The numerous canal locks holding back water as overflows give a sense of life.

Nature in many guises

Life in ducks, geese, and birds, they all are quacking, honking, or singing, in unison, separately or a disordered cacophony, not in need of the marshalling of a choirmaster. The music of nature is more settling than the blaring of headphones in covering your ears that you are totally unaware of what or where you are. If only they could just pocket their mobile phones for a moment and see something else.

One man and his dog, that dog a beast instead giving the person a status of terror for he could earn fear masquerading as respect no other way, then another dog, fluffy and friendly being called away from a couple sitting for a quiet talk. Just before you saw the fouling of the path, and I suspect the beastly dog, for the owner at one look did not appear the civil kind, yet, I have been wrong making such judgements.

A sport to thrill

Even as I have not decided how much further I want to go, I probably will go as far as this towpath will take me, my height is many times challenged by the low arches of bridged straddling the canal, I stoop or bow as I walk keeping an eye for some who care nothing for other users of this way.

Walking at speed, I pass another couple whilst resisting the urge to eavesdrop and then to my right over the canal is the Etihad Campus, with the football stadium of Manchester City Football Club and I recall when I could not persuade my best friend, a Manchester United fan to walk into that ‘abominable’ sanctum, though he might have had considered visiting for a local derby, I’ll ask.

Love in the park

One more bridge to duck and the windy path veers off the canal and I am presented with the entrance to Philips Park and I have not been here in years, many years at that. Two men have been ahead of me all the while, interesting from my perspective and something about them suggests more than meets the eye.

Into the park, they walk, down one of the more secluded routes that goes by the culverting of the River Medlock, the handiwork of brutal Victorians, that defines the boundary between the park and the cemetery. I am not following or trailing them, but I am just slightly behind them, then they touch and hug, I knew it all the while. They are getting more affectionate and honestly, why should I be shocked?

Just as I turn to cross over the River Medlock into the Philips Park Cemetery, they are now making their way back towards the park and in a moment of overwhelming passion, they embrace and kiss, that remains for a while or it is my persistence of vision deceiving me, for in that moment, I see love and think of love, then I wonder when Brian and I will walk about again, and give this spectacle to another narrator.

Preventing bicycle rage

The ride of note

Bicycles are the main mode of transport around the city of Amsterdam and I once had a good few. In fact, when my uncle and aunt visited years ago and heard I was going to pick up my bicycle as I collected them from the airport, little did I know that my uncle felt I was living a pauper’s life – after 13 or so years in Europe, I was riding bicycles.

By the time we walked past the 3-storey bicycle storage rank and they saw bicycles being put to such ingenious use, they realised that there were better practicalities for bicycles than the ostentation of cars and outrageously exorbitant parking charges.

Flattened from movement

One late night I rode into town and got a puncture, the regular public transport had closed and I did not have enough to get me home by taxi so I half rode the bicycle as close as possible to my bike repairer’s shop and then got a taxi back home.

I had the feeling that I might have damaged the tyre rim much as I was quite embarrassed that riding a bike making such a flat tyre racket was not the dome thing.

Meanwhile there were people riding bikes past me which were more ramshackle than a bone shaker or a rusty penny-farthing.

Note that bad at all

In fact, I thought the bicycle was a write-off, I visited the repairs shop to get a new bicycle – I had before purchased the owner’s mother’s old bike many years before and then the one I had parked just about a kilometre away with a puncture.

When I told him of it, he insisted on repairing the bike than my purchasing a new one, so I went to get it and left it for repairs over the week.

When I collected it on Saturday, the whole cost of repairs came to a might 10 Euros, along with the advice that one could really right bikes with punctured tyres for quite a distance before the tyre of rim became irreparable – but the discomfort and embarrassment was enough for me not to want to ride any further.

Locking up my bicycle

The use of bicycles does leave me a candidate for an extreme anger management course, one of my pet hates is with bicycle locks.

The received wisdom is to have good locks that probably cost more than the bicycle and then attach the bicycle to some rigid and firm supporting frame, the idea being, if bikes get stolen, your would be the last to be taken because the others have easier to break locks.

However, you should never have your bicycle outside in the weeks running up to the Queen’s Day celebrations because thieves prowl the streets with trucks picking up bicycles to sell at that the flea markets that have become representative of that day.

Locking up my anger

Dotted all around the city are bicycle ranks in which to place and lock bicycles to the frame, a lock of ample length allows you to set the bicycle in its section an allow space for adjacent bicycles taking account for the handle bars and other attachments.

The accepted generalisation about the Dutch is that they could be a bit miserly and that translates in this case into smaller bicycle locks that make it difficult to place in adjacent bicycles – the inconsiderate import of this is the first bicycle is secure and no care is given for the community spirit of allowing other bicycles to be properly secured.

Stop anywhere and ignore others

This lack of community spirit extends to people who could very well get off the bicycle path at junctions or intersection if they have to converse before parting – people just have a tendency to stop in the middle of the path – very much like stopping your car in the middle of the road and popping out for some emergency shopping.

My anger is aggravated by those who do not stop at the traffic lights, having wheeled themselves forward but yet unable to cross the road are then beyond being able to notice when the lights turn.

What then happens is those who have been patiently waiting to go now have to ring their bells to get the impatient people out of the way.

Traffic violations in a lawless town

More anger points are those who ride up the wrong way or ride on the pedestrian pathways, I am beginning to think Amsterdam is as lawless as the Wild West of old, apart from the occasional fines for not having lights for night riding, I have not seen the police come down tough of poor bicycle conduct.

This is frustrating considering it is the most prevalent form of transport in Amsterdam.

Now, this explains the animosity between drivers of powered vehicles and pedal-powered vehicles, the ones on bicycles seem to be as daring as super-human people who can come to no harm as they risk life and limb to cars, buses or even trams.

Considerate road usage

However, when it comes to the tussle between cars and bicycles, the road markings are important, sometimes, the cyclist does have right-of-way, it does not matter if the cyclist is coming at speed or slowly, once observed, the car driver has to stop and give way – no road or passage is the exclusive reserve of the vehicle.

Pedestrians, cyclists and drivers all have to be aware of the other, respect traffic rules and be considerate of other road users – maybe then; I do not have to go on an anger management course after all.