onionbagblog

Inspired by the brilliant Robson Green Wild Swimming Adventure on ITV1 (blimey) this week? Feel ready for the Brockwell Icicles initiation ceremony? Fancy some ice skating instead?

Yep – that time of year again.

Come on in, the water’s…

I didn’t spend too long at the Brockwell Urban Green Fair this year. Truth be told, and I chanced upon the now annual event. A lost afternoon at the lido, and then I ventured out into the park with a spare hour or so ahead of the working evening ahead.

I’m pleased that I made the effort. Going green may not be for everyone; I can’t think of a better way of rounding off the weekend than a wonderful workshop from the ever-lovely Barney of Brixton Bicycles, and then half an hour spent with the always-engaging Mark Thomas.

The Urban Green Fair is unique within Lambeth, being booze and music free. It may sound like the perfect combination too induce chin stroking tepee bores, but it actually makes for the ideal setting for families to come together and share and learn.

The afternoon has an educational feel to it, with an emphasis on the practical rather than the theory. Barney taught me how re-wire my gear shifters and fiddle around with spokes; Mark Thomas reminded me why I should take more of an interest in global affairs as I seek to make sense of my little patch of South London.

Thomas is an infectious speaker, utilising the years of experience he has racked up on the comedy circuit to great effect, putting down political hecklers as he delivers across his message.

His current quest is to bring down the downfall of the Coca Cola Corporation. Given his previous track record of changing inerheritance tax laws, and being invited to give evidence to a House of Commons select committee investigating the arms trade, you wouldn’t put it past the protagonist to take the fizz out of the Coke empire.

Much of the afternoon was spent reading extracts from his latest book. Thomas was keen to emphasise that this wasn’t part of the promo circuit, with no books actually being on sale. His agent must love him.

And then with the global economy awaiting my arrival back in Sunny Stockwell to keep the wheels of the capitalist economy turning, I departed Brockwell full of ideas and plenty of optimism.

Independent, green festivals (um, the Cannabis Festival) have experienced problems in the past obtaining a licence from @lambeth_council. Which all seems rather strange; you couldn’t imagine a more environmentally friendly collective of people, anxious to leave the beauty of Brockwell Park in the same way in which they found it.

Something to do with the very real threat of the first Green seat soon to be won within the borough?

Never underestimate the kindness of the bicycling community. Never underestimate the kindness of any community – that is, after all, the fundamental building block which brings together disparate individuals to reach a shared goal.

But when that shared goal is to get my track bike, um, back on the track, it’s more of an individual pursuit, and one that alone, I’m not very good at.

I had a so so Saturday morning track session down at le velo. The legs surprisingly said yes, the bike said no. Track cycling is the ultimate in precision performance between rider and machine. You need to have full confidence in your bike, knowing that the slightest increase or decrease in power, and the pedals will respond and you can power home in safety.

It’s a deceiving discipline; much of track cycling is played out in the mind. You need to clear your head of all thoughts around you, and have a truly clear path ahead, both on the track and where your mind is heading. The slightest mechanical worry and you might as well bonk on the banks.

Much like my mind, my track bike was ticking away as I rolled out of Herne Hill, early Saturday morning. There was a very slight catch on the pedals with each rotation. Something was slightly wrong, and my concern was that the bike was going to fall apart on me.

I persisted around the rotation race, not helped when I was stung by a bee underneath my helmet at the start of the fifty-lap sprint around the SE21 circuit. Each time I tried to put the pressure on, my right pedal omitted a slight click against my cleat, coupled with a banging head from the b****y bumblebee.

Not a good place to be for mind, body and bike.

The mechanics of a track bike are so pure and simple, that even the most simpleton of bicycling grease monkeys should be able to find their way around the chain set with a spanner.

Ahem.

Clueless and lycra clad, I approached Eric, the Chief Club Mechanic down at Herne Hill for Velo Club Londre. Eric is a stalwart of South London cycling. His non-paid role basically means servicing the fleet of club track bikes down at le velo each Saturday morning. He shouldn’t have to be dealing with cyclists like me, who struggle fitting a cleat to a new pair of track shoes.

The problem was immediately identified – my crank needed realigning, having loosened out of the bottom bracket with every rotation around the Herne Hill track. It was close to coming off, something that would have made the bumblebee sting look like a minor inconvenience, had I bought down the entire pelaton during my sprint (ish) finish.

Eric very kindly clamped my frame down and got to work with his tool set. It was a tricky, fiddly job, balancing the crank either side, and then locking it all back into place. Forty-five minutes later and the job was complete. I offered to pay, but my offer was immediately dismissed. Forty-five minutes of mechanical time at Evans will cost you something slightly more than the genuine kindness of the bicycling community.

It is the many unpaid volunteers, like Eric, who make up the genuine community found within cycling clubs. Their own racing days may have been ridden out many summers ago, but they remain around the track or circuit, attached to the love of the bicycle and the friendship they can find from like-minded people.

There’s a VCL mechanical club day coming up soon. All club members are encouraged to help out, fixing up the fixies at the tail end of the season, and generally keeping the track in order. I can’t see that I’m going to be much use, but a day on handlebar tape duties is the least I can do to honour the kindness of the bicycling community.

Chapeau!

And so what is to become of the lido cafe?

This is a question that many lido users were posing this time last year, disappointed with the neglect of the art deco eatery during the grand Fusion re-development of the lido.

A basic hot drinks and snacks service was available, all served up in an environment that was about as appealing as one of the old British Rail canteen cabins. The cuisine was of a similar standard.

I remember feeling particularly let down last summer, after deciding to treat forty Year 4 children with some refreshments, following their al fresco morning of splashing around in SE21. The best we could offer was a lukewarm milky drink and a packet of crisps. So much so for the healthy leisure lifestyle commitment.

Lido regulars first heard of the plans for the final piece in the Fusion redevelopment of the lido at the BLU AGM in October 2008. The management were proposing to invite tenders to run the lease of the 1930′s style cafe, with a planned opening in the summer of 2009.

I personally received requests from three possible leaseholders, asking what type of menu and facilities lido regulars would appreciate down at the waters of Lake Brockwell.

“Not sure about others, but I think a mixture of healthy foods and affordable foods for families would be ideal. Decent bread, sandwiches, pasta, salad, smoothies, cake etc. Last year we had crisps, chocolate and coke – yuk!

Toast for the early morning crowd goes down well.

WIFI would be wonderful. I often work at the lido with my dodgy dongle, but a strong, sustained connection would be great. This wouldn’t be expensive or even techy to set up, and I’m sure would encourage many likewise workers to be online at the cafe during the summer weekdays.”

Fast forward to the start of the *brrr* lovely lido season in the not so balmy early days of May, and we learnt that a couple of local business guys with a fine track record in providing healthy food within the area, had been awarded a five year lease by Fusion to develop the cafe.

Time and tide wait for no lido leaseholder though. The summer season was already upon us, and the entire interior of the cafe had to re-designed and re-built. Quick thinking during the rare heat waves over the summer saw at first, a basic soft drinks and ice cream service set up; this soon extended to become a highly successful BBQ, and before long, a beach hut was in operation, offering an extensive menu of snacks, all themed in with a healthy diet, and where possible, all sourced locally.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes and the interior of the beautiful cafe building was being worked on. Arrivals at the lido each morning were filled with intrigue. You could hear the construction work taking place, but was never quite sure what delights lay behind the closed doors.

Bit by bit, the new Brockwell Lido cafe was being re-built over the course of the season. The defining feature for me was the installation of a WIFI network. My iPhone picked up the signal early one morning, and then a cup of coffee and a polite chat with the beach hut guys later, and I had the key to connect to the secure network.

I’ve had quite an enjoyable summer down in SE21 since.

Come Saturday night, and the story of the lido cafe came full circle. The fragrant mrs onionbagblogger and I attended a soft launch of the restaurant facility, a trial run ahead of the doors along the Dulwich Road being open all year round for evening diners.

We arrived just as the later summer sun was setting. The clean and stylish re-fitting of the main lido cafe looked extremely comfortable, but the waters of Lake Brockwell proved too irresistible. We chose to take pre-meal drinks outside on the patio by the pool. A bottle of fruity red matched the skies above in SE21. We didn’t leave our seats for the rest of the evening.

Having an alcohol licence at the lido has always been something of a stumbling block. The new owners are now in a position to offer a well stocked bar, with the potential to put on private parties all year round. This is extremely pleasing news for anyone thinking of holding a London leaving party, in a location that has pretty much been their London existence for the past fifteen years.

The menu was offered, and even for a soft launch, we were given a choice of four dishes. We both enjoyed a generous serving from the salad bar first, with the red cabbage served in a honey sauce being a particular recommendation.

I opted for the meatballs and couscous as my main dish; mrs obb was more than happy with the vegetarian option of buttermilk squash ravioli, served with a generous helping of feta cheese.

Across the pool, and on the other side of the lido we could see some hardy souls putting in the miles on the lido treadmills. It was at this point in the evening that I vowed to complete the three-course meal, and choose a particularly rich dish from the desert menu. Life is for living, and not to be a slave to the repetition of a treadmill on a Saturday night.

The cafe by now had a wonderful ambience. The atmosphere was complimented by a small gathering of other diners, clearly enjoying the cuisine and the location. This in essence is the selling point of the new lido cafe. It’s a competitive market out there in terms of catering. The lido more than matches other restaurants, but other eateries can’t serve up their menu al fresco by a beautiful 1930′s art deco pool.

The plan is for the cafe to remain open throughout the winter months. This is hopefully when the food alone will keep trade healthy. Sitting outside on a cold January evening doesn’t seem so appealing.

The prices however were very attractive. Although we were dining at a soft launch with a slight discount added in, the three-course meal (yeah, went for the rich chocolate croissant bread and butter pudding with full cream…) and a bottle of bolly came to an incredibly reasonable £45.

Even with a working lido clock (finally!) we had completely lost track of time. The temptation was to stay for another bottle of red, but that early morning lido dip was calling.

We cycled off back through Brixton and down to Sunny Stockwell, already searching for another free date in our diaries to return.

Come on in – the water’s food’s lovely.