You get to see some odd sights on the Ha'penny Hatch. This afternoon's sight from my balcony looked like this.
On the left, a handful of token urban youth, on the right, a muddle of Morris dancers and mediatricians. They appeared to be dancing intermittently without music.
Approaching closer, it appeared to be a hammed-up dance off between the two groups of ''dancers''. This little bit of ha'penny opera appeared to finish with Chris Moyles accepting defeat while explaining to the victors that he only had one leg. Which, given that he'd just been pretending to Morris dance on two legs, had to be a pretty lame excuse.
A woman cycling over the bridge saw me on my bike and asked whether I had a pump for her very flat front tyre. As I fiddled vainly with my pump valve adaptor, I mentioned something about Chris Moyles. ''Oh yes'' she said and, leaning forward she confided, ''He's a twat. He talks rubbish.''
So there you have it: bicycle maintenance, astute criticisms of popular culture and work for the BBC costumes department, all on our bridge.
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