I was nervous about the weather. The BOM said that it was going to rain. Then that it wasn’t going to rain. Then it looked like it was going to. But then it didn’t. It was even quite mild – for being winter.
The process the second time was much the same as the first, except that I had all the required bits and pieces, so all I needed was to gather some nice-to-have accoutrements and I was off and running. I brought a string of lights this time to make the park feel a bit more inviting in the wintery darkness.
I should have spent a bit more time selecting better films, I think. It’s not that they weren’t good, but they didn’t feel quite as inspirational (or inspiring) as the previous screening.
The same number of people turned up – probably around 15. But this time there were people there that I’d never met before. It’s a movement! A community! A *thing*.
The idea: a guerilla cinema in the park. I wanted to inspire people to get outside more, and push what they consider “normal” with bicycles and travel by bike. Inspire people. Inspire myself. I came up with the name (it has a pun!), drew quite a bad logo (that I will, one day, get someone to update for me), picked a date, hoped that the weather would be good, and went for it.
I put the call out over Instagram and my Last Minute Adventure Club Whatsapp group and people were keen.
I didn’t want to have to spend a lot of money to set this up, and didn’t think it was necessary to. I bought a big piece of white fabric to use as the screen – that was around $30. I already have a laptop, amplifier, speakers, and power stuff. The only big-ticket item that I needed that I didn’t have was a projector. I asked on Instagram, and a friend was willing to loan me their projector for the event. Perfect. The park near my house where I was planning to host the cinema has a sneaky power-point that I could tap into. Also perfect.
The big day came. The weather was good. I’d downloaded the videos so I didn’t need to rely on internet while in the park. I had sausages to put on the BBQ. I loaded up the bike and set off for the park. Hung the screen. Set up the projector. Wired the sound. Fired up the BBQ. Everything came together beautifully. People turned up. We chatted. Ate. Watched. Chatted some more.
Magic.
You can follow the Cycling Gorilla Cinema on Instagram now. Follow along here: @cycling_gorilla_cinema
When someone says “English beach” you don’t really picture anything that great. Grey skies. Grey sand (at best). Grey water. A lot of people not really dressed for the beach at all. I’d been told that the Jurassic Coast was beautiful, and, along with my preconceived ideas I (internally) pffff’d and mostly dismissed the idea of swimming in the UK.
But then I remembered that I would need a July swim to complete my swim-every-month-in-2022 challenge. So, caution to the wind and those sorts of things, I decided to head to Durdle Door as early as possible to avoid the crowds. £5 to park for 4 hours – they sure know how to make it difficult for poor people to do things in the UK.
Anyway. I followed the path down, and down, and down, past the views of white chalk cliffs, down the rocky path, then down the worn wooden steps and onto the san….pebbles. They were oval, smooth pebbles. Apparently walking barefoot on pebbles is a good way of improving health (it’s called tap shek) – so consider my health improved!
There is a very striking arch in the water at Durdle Door Beach – the arch is the namesake for the beach. Durdle Door.
The water was clear and a beautiful blue. There was a slight swell, but nothing significant. No wind. The sun was out.
I dove in to the instantly deep water (the coarser the sand on the beach, the steeper the beach) and started swimming for the arch. The water was refreshing, especially after suffering through the 40℃ heatwave in London. A shower doesn’t have the same refreshing power as a swim in the ocean after a hot day.
I reached the arch, swimming through it on my back, looking up the whole time, watching the perspective change. It felt special. Magical. Like I’d gone through a portal to another land. Swimming back through the portal, I was worried I’d go back through to the place I’d come from, but I stayed in the magical place where I’d been through Durdle Door.
If you ever get to the Jurassic Coast, and the weather is Just So, I heartily recommend swimming through the portal to another land.
When I was last in Europe music wasn’t everywhere – especially not “my” music. We didn’t have a stereo in the Volvo 940 we were driving around Europe. I didn’t have an iPod. Spotify didn’t exist, nor did the ubiquitous internet that’s required for a streaming service. I have an incredibly vivid memory of being in Spain, and finding a bar one afternoon that was playing Smashing Pumpkins. I’d not heard “my” music for many weeks and it struck incredibly deeply.
I wonder if there will be things that lodge themselves in my brain the same way as that afternoon did on this trip. And I wonder if my kids will have the same experience of unearthing something they’ve been missing by absolute chance.
