Getting to work...

Lucy — Sat, 01 Oct 2011 20:47:04 +0000

‘Getting to work, a different way each day’ is now complete. Thank you to all the wonderful people who helped and inspired me along the way, you know who you are, my comrades in crime! So, what is next you ask? Well there is artwork to be made, new ideas to be explored, and plenty more routines to break. Stay tuned… And by the way, I won’t be taking the bus to work on Monday. Far too many better options.

Money Does Grow on Trees

Lucy — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 05:49:53 +0000

We’ve all heard the phrase ‘money doesn’t grow on trees’ but what if it did? What if money was free? I wanted to give something back to the world on my last day of September so I decided to do a little experiment. I attached real £1 coins, 50p pieces, 10p’s and 20p’s to approximately 25 white cardboard luggage labels and wrote the word ‘free’ on the front of each card. As I walked to work I hung the cards with string, upon the branches of different trees that I passed. It happens to be that time of year when the leaves are starting to change colour and sprinkle their way to the ground. I wondered if people would find all the labels before they became the last sign of life on a leafless tree? I really wanted to hide in the bushes and watch the passersby to see how they reacted. Would they even see the label? Would they venture closer to look? Would they take the money and leave the tag? Would they smile or seem confused? But I had a lot of labels to hang before 9 am so there was no time for being a detective. As I got close to the end of my journey and hung the last label conspicuously upon the last tree near my office, I felt satisfied. My work was done. Lots of people were about to get lucky. Did you? Is that how you ended up here reading this blog? On a last minute whim I had added my blog address to the back of the free money cards, which in fact turned the idea into a bit of a marketing stunt. I realized this had made the premise of the activity pretty similar to other guerilla marketing campaigns, maybe growing money on trees isn’t so crazy after all. I guess at the end of the day we’re all just part of a big experiment. The experiment of life. There are a hundred ways to perceive the world around us. There are a hundred ways to make our imagination into a reality. There are even a hundred ways to get from A to B. If I’ve learnt anything from this little project, it’s that life must be lived, completely, wholly and fully. And however ridiculous something may seem, when we share our crazy love of life with the world, the world shares back.

1 hour 34 minutes : Money in coins = £8.90

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

Lucy — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 23:45:35 +0000

Sam recently rowed from Kendal to Camden to raise money for charity, and he had kindly lent me his beautiful maroon rowboat. The lovely Niko and Kat, from the other side of the mooring, had agreed to row me to work. Ah, my neighbours, they’re the best and have truly made this whole experiment sing! Tim and John were on hand at 7am to help lift the rowboat off the top of Sam’s canal boat. Then, with three men in a boat, we set off, laughing, chatting, enjoying the water level. The boat moved mighty fast with my muscly chauffeurs, although Kat did seem to be the stronger rower. As we headed into the tunnel, Niko periodically yelled ‘Kaaaatttt’ as we veered towards the wall due to her powerful arms. Niko on the other hand was a little prone to ponder and chat and forget to row, which caused Kat to yell periodically ‘Niko, please keep rowing!’ I was the lucky soul sitting in between the two of them and their little opera. Without an oar, I felt like quite the princess. Once we had emerged out of the tunnel, and they had fully mastered the floating vehicle, it was decided that a cigarette was in order. As I cannot roll cigarettes very well, nor do I smoke them, I was asked to row, which it appeared I could not do very well either. In fact, truth be told, I dumped my granny in a lake a number of years back when I took her for an impromptu row on holiday. It wasn’t on purpose; I’d simply decided that we should swap places mid pond, as I couldn’t understand why I was rowing backwards. When she stood up, the boat capsized, and I got in a fair amount of trouble with the rest of the family, especially as she couldn’t swim… but we all survived! Anyways, one cigarette later, and we were gliding along swiftly through the zoo. I read ‘Milliganimals’ to my crew, which are wonderfully short animal poems by Spike Milligan, such as ‘A very rash young lady pig, They said she was a smasher, Suddenly ran, Under a van, Now she’s a gammon rasher.’ A few plums later our little cruise was over. I hopped out of the boat and said goodbye to Niko and Kat as they rowed off… gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.

1 hour 50 minutes : Free

Geocaching

Lucy — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 21:22:33 +0000

I love treasure hunts. I love making them for people. I love doing them myself. I think it stems from my childhood when my granddad would make special treasure hunts for my brother and I when we went to stay, I guess I never grew out it. When Alice told me about Geocaching I knew I had to do it. Geocaching is an amazing global treasure hunt game where anyone can use a GPS device to locate a hidden container, inside which is a log of all those who have found the cache, as well as random things people leave for one another. A member of the geocaching community hides the geocache treasures, but in fact anyone can join and hide one and add it to the list online. So, terribly excited, I set off with the geocaching.com iphone app, which had informed me of three geocache treasures nearby. One was on the canal, so I followed the directions, got within the vicinity of the GPS coordinates when suddenly my iphone made a sound and produced a message to let me know that I was very close to the treasure, how exciting was this! The instructions had said the cache was ‘a small mint tin, attached to metal with the usual magnets.’ I looked up, down, all around, feeling like quite the intruder, but I couldn’t see anything. I decided to take the hint, an extra option in the cache details on the app – ’17 spikes in an arc’! Well that was easy, a curved metal gate with 17 spikes was directly next to me, but I still couldn’t find the tin! I felt like I’d been hunting for ages with no luck. What if someone had moved it? I could be there all morning and I didn’t have all morning, I had to get to work. Rather frustrated I decided to pull the plug, trek on and start a new hunt. The next one I chose was in Regents Park and it was described as a small black film canister connected to a string behind an old signpost. This time I was in a more public location and I was aware that I might look rather funny hunting around in the bushes. I really didn’t want any more encounters with the police, especially over a treasure hunt. I pretended to be texting whilst I found the old signpost, then I discreetly bent down and felt behind the wall. Bingo! There in my hand was an old film canister. I was so excited I wanted to jump up and down, I felt like I’d won the lottery! I opened the canister and pulled out a set of curled up strips of paper, the log! The latest entry was ‘Damnation 333 and Julie Chouette’ on September 24th, just four days ago, and behind them was a long list of others with fairytale names. I added myself to the list proudly, ‘LucyLoo’ on September 28th. My first geocache conquered. I love this game. I love the fact that there are boxes hidden on every continent and that you can discover places and things you may never have found before. I’m totally sold, potentially even addicted. The last thing I wanted to do today was go to work. I just wanted to go geocaching.

1 Hour 58 Minutes : Geocaching iphone app = Free

My Mini Triathlon

Lucy — Tue, 27 Sep 2011 23:10:09 +0000

It was still dark and the canal was full of fog. The street lights had turned blurry in the haze and the day felt shrouded in a dark mysticism. I set off at a gentle pace running passed the odd soul bustling along. My knees aren’t really up for running these days so I alternated walking a stretch and running a stretch to avoid the stabbing pain that can occur. The entrance to Hyde Park looked like a magical wonderland, the night was lifting but a heavy blanket of fog still sat on top of the world. It was so thick I could barely see down the Serpentine Lake, just a few geese bobbed up and down on the shore. I approached the swimming area wondering if anyone was in there, lost in the mist, then suddenly a little elbow arched out of the water and sunk back down again, it was a swimmer. I got changed in the serpentine swimmers clubroom with a couple of other strapping lads and got in. It was cold! Very cold! The type of cold that makes you gasp and feel a tightness all over as your muscles contract. As I swam, an artificial warmth, a tingly feeling, took over my entire body, like a protective layer over the goose bumps. The mist was lifting with every stroke but I was enjoying being encased in its vacuum, I wanted to stay lost in its strange ambience forever. Suddenly seven geese took to the sky skimming the top of the water and missing my bobbing head by a mere fraction. They circled the sky above me testing their curves. I got out and changed, body damp, hair wet, feet numb, soul invigorated. At the end of the serpentine I rented a blue Boris bike for the last phase of my triathlon. The bike was heavy and wieldy to ride, nothing like my little Brompton and I could feel the cold settling into my body. I raced to Holborn and returned the bike with half an hour to spare before work. Now I was as hungry as a dog and my feet were still somewhere else, so I ordered a full english breakfast at a local cafe to sort me out. It did the trick and the magic of the serpentine gradually drifted away, just like the haze at the break of day.

2 hours 9 minutes : Bike rental = £1, Breakfast = £5.40

Sexy Triumph

Lucy — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 20:21:13 +0000

‘Well you must go with MOB’ announced Sally, confidently volunteering her friend to take me to work on his motorcycle. MOB is one of my friends on the mooring, his real name is Tim, but Sally calls him ‘Man On Bike.’ I put on my leather jacket and locked up the boat, as I was leaving Neil popped out of his boat to check if I had some gloves, which i didn’t so he quickly produced a rather large pair of leather bike gloves for me. John from Pepperpot (another boat) was eating his muesli waiting for me at the motorcycle with MOB when I arrived. He handed me a crazy helmet covered with neon yellow and red flames, and an unusual, pierced, tiger character positioned above the face shield. I put it on feeling rather excited and wild! The motorcycle was a beauty, a dark green triumph. MOB was ready, fully clad in leather, looking just like the strong hunky type of man you would want to ride on a motorcycle with. I got on the back and we took off, slowly at first weaving our way through the traffic, gradually speeding up when we got a clean stretch in front of us. There’s something very sexy about riding on the back of a motorcycle, your body connected to the person in front, straddling a roaring engine. You feel powerful and invincible amongst the cars. Of course you’re not, and everyone knows it’s a pretty dangerous mode of transport. Perhaps, its the fact it is dangerous that makes it feel sexy? Are all sexy things dangerous? MOB dropped me off at Red Lion Square bright and early, it was a wonderful ride, quite the triumph!

31 minutes : Free

Nine Bridges

Lucy — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 22:45:05 +0000

It was a gorgeous day, my bright orange brompton was unfolded and ready to go, we set off together to cross nine bridges. Don’t ask me why I chose nine, it just sounded right. The first bridge crossed the canal behind Paddington Station, it was a strange metal pedestrian bridge that reminded me of some sort of periscope. I headed on through Hyde Park and Chelsea to Battersea Bridge stretching out across the Thames. This was a simple bridge trimmed with a delicate gold pattern that vaguely resembled the inside of a watch. As I continued along the pavement hugging the river, I could see my third crossing ahead, Albert Bridge. It looked rather like a wedding cake, white and pink and blue and lacy with little turrets. I continued to zigzag back and forth across the Thames, bridge after bridge, north to south to north, with the occasional detour away from the river when there was no riverside path. From Chelsea Bridge with it’s stately coat of arms to Vauxhall Bridge as simple as a pair of old jeans. As I crossed Lambeth Bridge Big Ben tolled 8 and the Houses of Westminister looked like they’d been set alight with gold dust. So did Westminister Bridge, guarded by a huge stone lion, with sets of green and gold lamp posts lining it’s distance. In a lazy move I pushed the button for the lift to go up to the Hungerford Bridge and avoid hauling my bike up all the steps. When the lift arrived there were two people fast asleep on it’s floor. They’d made a pretty cosy bed of their public glass cube, I chuckled, and let them sleep, more steps for me. Hungerford Bridge was the most modern bridge by far, it looked like a series of white stalks stretching into the sky. The trains rumbled along next to me whilst my bike turned the bumpy bricks of the bridge into a xylophone. The ninth and last bridge was now in sight, Waterloo Bridge, not the most ornate, but very functional. I pulled out into the bus lane with all the other cyclists and did my last zigzag back across the water. Eleven beautiful miles and nine delicious bridges later I was finally at work.

1 hour 43 mins : Free

The Electric Taxi Service

Lucy — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 22:00:19 +0000

I don’t own a car but I am a member of a car club. Hertz have just added electric cars to their cars on demand service, a much more eco-friendly option for short trips, so I decided to give it a go. I was so excited by the idea that I offered free morning rides to some of my friends on the mooring. Jessica from Macon (that’s the name of her boat) was my first pickup. She teaches aikido near Marble Arch early thursday mornings. We drove down Edgware Road chatting away about her latest photography project, which is a series of photos of the water out of her boat. Next I took my neighbour Harley from Maggie (her boat) to primary school, she was almost as excited as me about the little car and is now thinking about starting her own project called ‘Getting to School’, how fun would that be! I dropped her off and began my drive to work singing along with the radio at the top of my lungs. As I got into central London the traffic moved slower and slower. I needed to return the car by 9am, it was going to be a close call. Cyclists zipped in and out of the traffic and pedestrians framed by headphones seemed completely unaware that they were surrounded by moving metal boxes. All of a sudden, just as I was crossing Tottenham Court Road a woman walked straight out in front of the car, I screeched to a stop… Boom! Something had gone into the back of me! A cyclist! My heart was racing, I turned off the engine and opened the door. It was a woman on a folding bicycle, she didn’t have a helmet, but was already checking her bike, she wasn’t hurt, thank goodness. I leaned out of the car and said ‘I’m so sorry. Are you ok? Someone just walked straight out in front of me, I’m so sorry!’ She said she was fine, just a bit shocked, she said it happens, don’t worry, she was super cool. The pedestrian who had caused all the havoc had disappeared. I shut the door and tried to start the car but the digital rental device was flashing ‘Your time has expired,’ it was one minute past nine. No!! A man knocked on the window and asked me if I wanted a push, but at the same moment the rental device changed messages to ask me if I’d like to extend my rental time. Yes Please!! The car started and I drove off, but my journey didn’t get any better. I reached Holborn only to get stuck in one way systems and more traffic, I ended up being 25 minutes late for work, this was the first time I’d been late since I started the project. How ironic that driving to work, the way I thought would be the easiest and most luxurious was proving to be the most stressful and dangerous way of all. I parked the car, plugged it in, locked the door and was relieved it was all over. Driving to work was not the best plan.

1 hour 40 mins : Electric car rental = £24.50

Imagine Peace

Lucy — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 22:45:01 +0000

Today is International Day of Peace. What does this mean? It seems that all around the world there are unresolved issues between people and countries. When one problem is solved another arises, countries fighting countries, people fighting people, the cycle never ends. Could it ever end? Peace is the absence of war and pain, it’s so beautiful, but invisible. I think we have to imagine peace, imagine it’s presence, imagine this feeling we cannot see. I cut out 30 little white cards and wrote ‘Imagine Peace’ on each one, then I tied a bright yellow ribbon to the corner of each card, and began my walk to work. I hung one on the mooring gate for all my fellow boaters, posted one for the postman into the post box, left one in the change slot of a bright red phone box, put one outside paddington green police station for the cops, and on and on… As I walked, delivering the little messages, I realized I was touching many of the places I had visited on previous journeys, connecting all my walks to peace. I had wondered if I would actually give the little cards to people as I walked, but I preferred the silence of leaving a message anonymously for someone to find. I liked imagining what people would think when they found the card. That morning I got a text from my neighbour Alice, who had seen the message on the mooring gate with her daughter Harley, ‘We imagined peace all the way to school, starting inside us, and then sent it out to the rest of the world.’ Fantastic I thought, we’re all in this together, peace is truly made by many, like John Lennon so famously said ‘you may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one…’

1 hour 41 minutes : Free

Canal Boat Calm

Lucy — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 22:45:15 +0000

Honk honk! I looked out of my window and there was Neil, my neighbour, on his canal boat ready to take me to work. I jumped from my boat to his, and we headed off into the tunnel. Rosie the dog paraded up and down the roof as the light at the end of the tunnel grew. It was early, the waterways were clear of other boats, and the morning felt brand spanking new. We ate muesli with raspberries and blackberries and donuts and tea from a bright yellow teapot. Past the zoo full of monkeys, past the chinese restaurant on stilts, as we chattered away to the humming engine. We moored up at Camden next to the empty market stalls and I said goodbye to the kind-hearted Captain Neil. I walked the remaining distance to work, through Kings Cross and all it’s trains and commuters. If I had any choice in the matter I’d move our office nearer to a canal and avoid all this chaos. There’s just something magic about water, it calms the soul, one moment flows into the next, and before you know it, you’ve arrived somewhere knew.

1 hour 38 mins : Free