Life continues to be delightfully busy and it is hard to know what to write about. So this time the highlights are last week’s by-election and another bike ride.
At long last, the much anticipated by-election came along. Never has there been so much campaigning going on and this intensified as the polling day got closer. Every day flyers would arrive through the letter box and we would have visits from various hopeful canvassers. All very exciting and a good reaction to the dreadful Nadine Dorries who had seriously failed.
Everyone now knows the result. The Conservative majority of 24,000 was over turned by Alistair Strathern, the Labour candidate.
Once again Rachel and I were counting assistants and at 10pm we set to work, along with the rest of the team, unfolding thousands of ballot papers, counting them into bundles of 25 and then repeating! As is normally the case, there was a discrepancy between the number of papers counted and the number of papers that were in the various boxes. As we were only out by a small margin, it didn’t matter.
As the piles of votes were starting to grow, the atmosphere became more excited as we were being closely observed by agents and candidates from the various parties.
By 1am on the following morning we had a pretty good idea how the vote was going – but I was wrong! I had thought the Conservative candidate had just squeaked in with a small victory. My heart sunk. I felt so disappointed.
However, by 2pm the picture at the ‘top table’ had changed. This is where all of the counted ballot papers were being piled up in clear plastic boxes. So while the votes counted on my table had gone one way, by the time these were all grouped together with the other 8 or 9 tables, the result was looking like a Labour majority.
The infamous Brian Dunlevy, the blummin Council’s election man is someone everyone knows and, to a certain extent, fears. You quickly learn Brian is not a man to mess with, especially on election night. Nobody gets in his way. Interestingly he has now become the new chief executive’s henchman, or so it seems. Every time the chief wanted to say something, Brian would bellow something at top volume and the entire room would instantly become silent. And so at about 2:30am the room shuddered with “QUIET!” followed by an invitation to go down into the Council chamber for the declaration.
Here we gathered at the back, behind the handful of TV cameras, photographers and journalists. The candidates sauntered onto the stage, eventually joined by the Conservative candidate who had already ditched his tie and looked somewhat bruised. We all knew why.
To break with tradition, instead of the chief executive reading the results, it was left to the high sheriff in all his regalia to read the declaration. I was delighted the Conservatives had been unseated and this followed the local elections where the independents took the majority away from the Tories for the first time ever. I think the Liberal Democrat candidate would have made a good MP and equally the Labour candidate (who won) will almost certainly do a good job.
Alistair Strathern, the winner, was beaming like a Cheshire Cat, he could hardly believe it. His opponents all warmly congratulated him and the Conservative left very quickly, almost to the point of rudeness. He wasn’t even on the stage when Alistair Strathern gave his acceptance speech – such a poor loser.
I have now written to our new Member of Parliament, to congratulate him, to encourage him and hopefully to strike up a good rapport with him.
A bike ride!
In other news, I have continued my bike rides along the Grand Union canal. The plan is that I will cover the towpath from the Blisworth tunnel in Northamptonshire, all the way down to central London. So far I have made it to Watford, so only a little more to do.
As usual my average speed is rather slow at just 7mph. My excuse has always been the bridges and having to cross to the other side of the canal to continue. Plus I should mention all the characters I seem to get into conversations with along the way – the boaters, those who permanently live on the canal. They are quite a mixed bag: the young new age drop-outs to the well spoken and older boaters who, for a variety of reasons, prefer to be off-grid and keep their distance.
I suppose it had to happen, sooner or later. A puncture. While I was plodding my way along the towpath the surface seemed to vary quite a bit. Everything from fine grit, gravel through to compacted mud and more of a stony path. At one stage the back wheel seemed to transmit the bumps more than usual, so I stopped, felt the back tyre; it was a little soft so I pumped it up. I got back on the bike and peddled away but within a few seconds the tyre was flat.
Just as well I packed a spare inner tube and tyre levers. Naturally the puncture was on the back wheel, it always is. While changing the inner tube was easy enough, I did feel concerned because I couldn’t find anything wrong with the tyre; no thorns, shards of grit or glass etc.
Someone walked passed and said “oh you’ve got a puncture then?”
“Yes, I have” was my reply, thinking it was a bit flippin obvious. I asked how far it was to Berkhamstead and he told me it was only a couple of miles. Well that was something, just in case I needed to walk.
I was revelling in my little adventure by the time I got back to my car. I was thoroughly enjoying the changing seasons, the nostalgia of having enjoyed these little adventures since I was a teenager. It has been a while since I have done anything like this, so it was not before time. Already I’m looking forward to the next stage, from Watford towards London!
So all in all a pretty busy week. The calendar in my head is full of all kinds of things to do and that’s the way I like it. What I don’t like, however, is the need to do too much of one thing. I like the variety and, to a certain extent, the spontaneous “let’s go and do…..”. More on this another time!