I am noticing my views on life are shifting. Not travelling to and from the office 5 days a week is allowing me to discover my neighbourhood. I’ve spoken to more neighbours, usually on the Thursday ritual of showing our appreciation for key workers; than I have ever done before. Using my bicycle for leisure and exercise rather than commuting is also changing my view of London.
The roads are starting to get busier with cars, but for a few weeks, I had a glimpse of what a city could look like without them.
Traffic never disappeared completely, there was still some cars around and buses were continuing to run their routes; but the spectacle of many roads completely car free felt as special as coming across a beautiful, magnificent vista after a long uphill walk to its vantage point.
The sound of birds returned to the parks and streets previously dominated by the roar of traffic. The previously ubiquitous noise was now almost shocking in its absence.
As I cycled I could feel my pace slowing down, no longer felling it necessary to keep up with the flow of the cars. My attention changed, from looking out for my own safety to looking out for the safety of the pedestrians, who were also relishing the freedom to step off the pavement. The tarmac had been reclaimed by people, the barrier between pavement and road blurred by the absence of speeding traffic, and the desire to spread out a bit. Pedestrians and cyclists seemed to navigate around each other quite easily, now that the cyclists could free themselves from riding in the gutter. The space felt glorious. It was strange to feel that I was now the most dangerous thing on the road.
Swapping two wheels for two feet, London had never looked so beautiful. The ability to stop and look at buildings instead of focusing on dodging through a crowd, eyes constantly scanning for the gap, always in a rush to get from A to B felt strange at first. The museums and galleries may be closed but the streets and buildings were showing me their history in a different way. Looking up beyond the shuttered modern shop fronts I saw glimpses of the London that Dickens knew in the narrow houses and mullioned windows. The upstairs downstairs lives lived in the homes on the grand garden squares, now taken over by company headquarters and hotels. The shadows of the painted wall signs left over from the butchers, bakers and tobacco shops that preceded the global brands.
The homeless had disappeared from doorways into vacant hotel rooms, those few weeks now feel like a slight bright star in an otherwise dark and scary time.
Queues of traffic are returning and yesterday I saw a man in the doorway of a bank huddled down even though the day was warm, and holding out a paper cup.
We are now all being encouraged to cycle and walk and to stay off public transport. I switched to cycling for my commute some time ago, and can understand that this will feel impossible to many. The increase in cars on the road may make it more frightening and difficult for those that do give it a try. If enough people brave it, then it could be the start of a new phase, and maybe pedestrians and cyclists don’t have to lose the territory the virus helped them to reclaim
A middle aged woman's attempts at a low carbon life 