(NB all photos clickable for larger versions)
The day had started inauspiciously, with a 5-mile sprint on my Bickerton to get to the third station on my itinerary when the replacement bus service failed to materialise, but I got to Woodstock early enough, and found my way into the grounds of the Palace.
The time trial was already running, with some riders going very fast, and some not so fast.
Michael Hutchinson won as expected, but the loudest applause was for the lady on a hybrid who completed the course at a most dignified unhurried pace.
Bromptoneers were beginning to swarm at the start by now, so I found a place next to the barrier on the long opening straight leading to the Palace. There seemed to be a clear distinction between those who were intent on doing a time
and those who were treating the ride as a concours d'elegance
or even a fancy-dress parade
I slowly made my way towards the finish line to see the finishers. People were pulling out all the stops in a final effort for the finish line.
and some effort-fuelled gurning was in evidence
but some people were obviously a little shy.
After most had finished, I had a bit of a wander round, bumping into Iddu, and introducing myself to Frenchman Denis Caraire, in his distinctive black and white chequered helmet, tie and socks. He was a bit cheesed off because he thought that he had done a good time, but his timing chip had fallen off somewhere on the course. [It turns out someone had removed his chip after the finish while he was recovering and his time
had been properly recorded.] I had taken
a photo of him finishing last year, and his friends had remarked that he was smiling and therefore couldn't have been putting much effort in. This year's photos suggest he was really trying hard.
Denis took a photo of
me posing with my Bickerton. There was a bike park near the entrance, but I took mine with me – several people came up with me to talk about it and discuss its place in the history of folding bicycles.
I wandered off to see the vintage bikes. Most of them were the usual stuff, but what caught my eye was what surely must have been teethgrinder's grandad's bike
Then on to see the bike polo. This looked like tremendous fun and for me was the highlight of the day. One of the organisers explained to me that there are two types of bike polo, one played 5-a-side on grass as played at the 1908 Olympics, and the other an urban 3-a-side hardcourt version. What was being played here was a hybrid – urban rules played on grass.
The only tactic seemed to be to park a bike across the goal, leaving only a small gap at either end and the space under the bottom bracket through which to score.
But as it is not allowed to put a foot on the ground, the 'goalkeeper' has to lean on his/her mallet. Put a foot down and you are honour-bound to take no further part in the game until you have 'tapped-out' at the halfway line. Put a foot down as a goalie and you have to leave the goal open.
There was plenty of skillful end-to-end stuff
but also some chaotic goalmouth action
At one point one of the players lost her mallet
but I didn't realise until its head brushed my left ear and clattered against my shoulder.
There was only time to see the end of one of the cyclo-cross races
before it was time to pedal back to Hanborough and get my train home.
A nice day out.
PS There are rumours that next year's Brompton World Champioships are to be held in Japan.
