Brompton hot weather cycling in London!

In London it has been crazy hot and a few records for temperature in June have been broken. I have not cycled huge distances; however, I have been out and about on my Brompton bicycles. 

Mid-week, I unfolded my Brompton and pedalled out into what the forecast described as a ‘red warning.’  London had decided to audition for the role of a toaster and the city obliged by turning every surface into a passive-aggressive radiator. Riding a Brompton in this weather is a very specific brand of British stubbornness: part urban commuter, part sauna enthusiast, part person who refuses to accept that public transport might be better - even with air-conditioning!

Heat makes London move weirdly slow, but then so does rain, fog, frost and snow! Buses sniff the pavement; taxis perform random lane changes (well actually nothing new there) and pedestrians adopt interpretive dance moves across crossings at random that could easily have come from a production at Sadler’s Wells. 

Then there were the smells. The city’s fragrance profile takes on new notes under extreme heat: grilled street food, perfume that has become aerodynamic, the faint but persistent eau de body odour, and the sudden bouquet of hot tarmac. It’s like riding through a very odd farmer’s market where the product is urban humidity.

Hydration became a ritual. My refillable bottle almost became like a holy relic. Water breaks become the highlight of the commute. 

Mechanically, the Brompton holds up with admirable stoicism. Its folding prowess means you can escape a puddle of molten pavement by popping into a shop (air conditioning), hopping on the train (air conditioning) or visiting one of the many locations I am a member (air conditioning)!! 

Of course, there’s the fashion element and this is perhaps the worst aspect of the hot weather. Style is subjective. The Lycra brigade was out and, in many instances, literately falling out of outfits they must surely have been sown into, or simply sprayed onto them! There were times when I thought I was riding in the Naked Bike Ride! Some commuters wore almost nothing, and I winced as many an almost bare buttock was placed down on a burning hot, plastic seat! My god, my eyes!

The best moment of any heatwave ride? The tiny fragments of triumph. Finding a breeze in a random alley. Discovering a shaded bench that seems to have been fashioned by angels. The lovely lady with a cooling spray who offers a spritz like a medieval blessing. Passing a cyclist on a heavy cargo bike who gives you a thumbs-up that says, ‘we are all in it together bother, see you at the next Critical Mass!’ Can you imagine me attending at Critical Mass event!? (Perhaps for a future blog post)?! 

So, if London throws a heatwave at you: ride your Brompton. You will be slightly damp, gloriously windblown, and possess a new appreciation for the small pleasures of a cold drink and a gentle breeze.

It’s hot, it’s ridiculous, it’s London and the Brompton, folded and unfazed, will still get you home.

Until next time, stay safe (and cool) out there people!