Dear Reader,
My opportunity finally arrived. Because I have no immediate travel plans, I was able to sign up for a 4 week beginner’s rowing course. The induction was Wednesday night.
Mom wants to know how it went, but I need to start at the beginning.
Beginning (South Bank of the River): Google has carefully calculated that the walking distance from my house to the rowing club is less than 3 miles and would take about 50 minutes. I’m a fan of long walks, but not before and after strenuous workouts or after a certain time of night when I’m unfamiliar with the neighbourhoods involved. Therefore, I investigated public transportation. A 5-10 minute walk from my flat, I can catch a bus which will stop after roughly 30 minutes at a point a 10 – 15 minute walk from the rowing club. The rowing club website suggests the taxi fare from the club to my closest railway station to be £12. I don’t own a bike.
So, given time of day and money considerations, I decided I would take the bus to the 7pm induction, and I responsibly printed out a map of the bus route along with the outbound and inbound timetables. I also printed the email telling me where to go when I reached the club.
And then I had a brilliant idea. “D”, I said to a co-worker, “did you drive today?” 5 minutes later, D had agreed to take me to my rowing course induction, and I had printed out Google map driving directions, which projected a 10 minute trip.
Middle (North Bank of the River):
D and I left the office parking lot** at about 6:15 and followed the first few turns without problems. Then we missed a turn. To maximize the scale of the map, I had zoomed in until our starting point was on one edge and our destination was on the other, so as soon as we zoomed off the wrong exit from the traffic circle, we were in uncharted territory.
Though we had begun to suspect a mistake somewhat sooner, we knew we had gone too far when we reached a town known to be several miles past our destination. D spotted a taxi rank with several middle eastern cab drivers standing outside their cars and chatting while they waited for fares. “You said this place is near the Lake? Do you want to get out and ask them how to get to the Lake?”
I showed one of them my map and asked for the Lake and was told, “You take a left out of the parking lot. Make a right onto the M4 towards London. Then follow the signs.”
We got on the highway, we followed the signs, we missed another turn and turned back when we realized we had almost reached our original starting point. We followed the signs correctly on the second attempt and came to the entrance of the Lake.
It was a ‘T’ intersection and we navigated through a set of barriers as cyclists swarmed by. They were in the middle of a triathlon, and we slowly drove down the long driveway to the main reception building all the while being dodged by determined athletes.
When we reached the reception building, the parking lot was deserted and the office door was locked. A man was standing outside and I approached him to ask if there was a rowing course in progress, but he wasn’t associated with the Lake and suggested I ask a gray haired man with a long handled push broom who was scrubbing down one of the docks.
I walked down to him and told him why I was there and asked if this was the right location for the rowing club. James* shook his head. “It’s close.” He said. “But it’s over there.” He pointed to the opposite bank of the river. “At this time of day, it will take you 30 minutes to get around to it.”
I could have cried with disappointment (It’s been a long week, ok?) , but I persevered. “Do you have a phone book? My course was supposed to start at 7, and as it’s 7:10 now, I’d like to find out if it’s worth it for me to go over at all.”
Sympathetically, he unlocked the office and pulled out a book of all the local rowing clubs. He dialed and handed me the phone. I explained to the man who answered that I was enrolled in the beginner course and was horribly lost. “Give me the phone” said the Lake employee. “Hello? Hello! This is James from the Lake. It’s going to take her half an hour to drive round to you. Can you send a speed boat for her?...Ok.” He hung up. “He wants us to call back in 5 minutes, and he’ll see what he can sort out.”
The Lake is on right, the Rowing Club on left, and the traffic circle where it all went wrong is center.
Conclusion (South Bank of the River)
Five minutes later, James put his arm around my shoulders and pointed, “You go through those trees there and follow the path right down to the dock. That’s where they’ll pick you up.” I thanked James, waved goodbye to D, and made my way down to the water.
Five minutes later, Neil** arrived in a two seater motor boat to pick me up. (Not that kind of motor boat. More like a really narrow wooden rowboat with a motor on the back. I climbed in behind him, and we whizzed down the river past some beautiful private properties – big houses with green lawns, private docks and benches by the water – which you can’t see from the road.
Five minutes later, we landed and I climbed the boathouse stairs to join my induction. We got to see where all the boats are kept and learned the proper way to use a rowing machine (don’t set it on the highest setting – you’ll never get that much resistance from the water!).
And I figure I’ll be forever known as the woman who got lost, ended up at the Lake, and had to be picked up in a boat.
~~LeAn
*I forget his real name, but given the large number of British men named James, it seems a safe
guess.
**I do remember his real name.
My opportunity finally arrived. Because I have no immediate travel plans, I was able to sign up for a 4 week beginner’s rowing course. The induction was Wednesday night.
Mom wants to know how it went, but I need to start at the beginning.
Beginning (South Bank of the River): Google has carefully calculated that the walking distance from my house to the rowing club is less than 3 miles and would take about 50 minutes. I’m a fan of long walks, but not before and after strenuous workouts or after a certain time of night when I’m unfamiliar with the neighbourhoods involved. Therefore, I investigated public transportation. A 5-10 minute walk from my flat, I can catch a bus which will stop after roughly 30 minutes at a point a 10 – 15 minute walk from the rowing club. The rowing club website suggests the taxi fare from the club to my closest railway station to be £12. I don’t own a bike.
So, given time of day and money considerations, I decided I would take the bus to the 7pm induction, and I responsibly printed out a map of the bus route along with the outbound and inbound timetables. I also printed the email telling me where to go when I reached the club.
And then I had a brilliant idea. “D”, I said to a co-worker, “did you drive today?” 5 minutes later, D had agreed to take me to my rowing course induction, and I had printed out Google map driving directions, which projected a 10 minute trip.
Middle (North Bank of the River):
D and I left the office parking lot** at about 6:15 and followed the first few turns without problems. Then we missed a turn. To maximize the scale of the map, I had zoomed in until our starting point was on one edge and our destination was on the other, so as soon as we zoomed off the wrong exit from the traffic circle, we were in uncharted territory.
Though we had begun to suspect a mistake somewhat sooner, we knew we had gone too far when we reached a town known to be several miles past our destination. D spotted a taxi rank with several middle eastern cab drivers standing outside their cars and chatting while they waited for fares. “You said this place is near the Lake? Do you want to get out and ask them how to get to the Lake?”
I showed one of them my map and asked for the Lake and was told, “You take a left out of the parking lot. Make a right onto the M4 towards London. Then follow the signs.”
We got on the highway, we followed the signs, we missed another turn and turned back when we realized we had almost reached our original starting point. We followed the signs correctly on the second attempt and came to the entrance of the Lake.
It was a ‘T’ intersection and we navigated through a set of barriers as cyclists swarmed by. They were in the middle of a triathlon, and we slowly drove down the long driveway to the main reception building all the while being dodged by determined athletes.
When we reached the reception building, the parking lot was deserted and the office door was locked. A man was standing outside and I approached him to ask if there was a rowing course in progress, but he wasn’t associated with the Lake and suggested I ask a gray haired man with a long handled push broom who was scrubbing down one of the docks.
I walked down to him and told him why I was there and asked if this was the right location for the rowing club. James* shook his head. “It’s close.” He said. “But it’s over there.” He pointed to the opposite bank of the river. “At this time of day, it will take you 30 minutes to get around to it.”
I could have cried with disappointment (It’s been a long week, ok?) , but I persevered. “Do you have a phone book? My course was supposed to start at 7, and as it’s 7:10 now, I’d like to find out if it’s worth it for me to go over at all.”
Sympathetically, he unlocked the office and pulled out a book of all the local rowing clubs. He dialed and handed me the phone. I explained to the man who answered that I was enrolled in the beginner course and was horribly lost. “Give me the phone” said the Lake employee. “Hello? Hello! This is James from the Lake. It’s going to take her half an hour to drive round to you. Can you send a speed boat for her?...Ok.” He hung up. “He wants us to call back in 5 minutes, and he’ll see what he can sort out.”
The Lake is on right, the Rowing Club on left, and the traffic circle where it all went wrong is center.Conclusion (South Bank of the River)
Five minutes later, James put his arm around my shoulders and pointed, “You go through those trees there and follow the path right down to the dock. That’s where they’ll pick you up.” I thanked James, waved goodbye to D, and made my way down to the water.
Five minutes later, Neil** arrived in a two seater motor boat to pick me up. (Not that kind of motor boat. More like a really narrow wooden rowboat with a motor on the back. I climbed in behind him, and we whizzed down the river past some beautiful private properties – big houses with green lawns, private docks and benches by the water – which you can’t see from the road.
Five minutes later, we landed and I climbed the boathouse stairs to join my induction. We got to see where all the boats are kept and learned the proper way to use a rowing machine (don’t set it on the highest setting – you’ll never get that much resistance from the water!).
And I figure I’ll be forever known as the woman who got lost, ended up at the Lake, and had to be picked up in a boat.
~~LeAn
*I forget his real name, but given the large number of British men named James, it seems a safe
guess.
**I do remember his real name.
I'm sorry I didn't comment on this sooner - but this is so funny! I just love travel stories!
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