Europe
That evening I arrived in London in light rain. As I had
been to London many times before it felt strange arriving by
bicycle. The air is polluted so many cyclists wear masks like gas
masks. It is no laughing matter. Breathing the air really
irritated my throat. Waiting casually, as arranged, outside the
Angel station, it was not my old friend Chris Durbin who
appeared out of the mist but another friend of Warren’s,
Chris, Chris Rigby.
“Fuckin’ great to see you in the saddle here in London.”
Chris invited some friends along to the party in the pub
he had taken me to for a drink.
It might have had something to do with a sense of relief from the pressures I had been under, but the Guinness tasted
really delicious. And, of course, I was getting closer to the
Guinness brewery in Dublin. . . . (from "Against the Wind" - Poolbeg Press)
