Alexandra Palace had been on my to-do list
for a while, and as Hans went there a couple of weeks ago, it seemed a
suitable lockdown trip. Nothing like as high as Leith Hill, but with several climbs
to get there, starting with Primrose Hill it was sufficient of a challenge to
keep warm on a November day. Apparently these hills are called the “Northern
Heights”.
Paul James agreed to accompany me, with
enthusiasm remarkably undimmed after I belatedly told him my route took in
Swains Lane, described by The Cyclist as “the toughest climb in London” and “maxing
at 20% over 900 metres”. Hidden Highgate describes it as “practically vertical
in places” which is the sort of remark which gets hyperbole a bad name.
Meeting on Clapham Common for coffee and
crossing the river at Chelsea Bridge we were initially in familiar territory
with memories of many years working, and in my case cycle commuting. An early
stop at that other palace brought forth no offers of refreshments, leaving us
thankful we had got ours in earlier.
North of Regent’s Park we were on roads I knew
less well, so Paul had to put up with my occasional stops as I tried to relate where
the Garmin thought I should go to what I saw on the ground.
Swains Lane was a challenge, but I think we
agreed that it was unremarkable compared to any climb on the Hilly 50.
The final approach to Ally Pally was along
a cycleway following the track of the Muswell Hill Railway, long closed, but in
it’s time the shortest railway in the country.
It offers spectacular views across London to the south from a viaduct
over the suburban streets below.
Similar views could be had from the palace
itself, but by now we needed lunch, alfresco in the Lakeside Café, sheltering
from a freshening wind.
After chilling even further on the descent
from Ally Pally we faced a rather lengthy climb up Queens Wood to Highgate, followed
by a more welcome 2 miles of sheltered descending along Parklands Walk, another former
railway track, to Finsbury Park.
As we approached central London there were
more segregated cycle tracks than I recall, finishing by crossing the river at
Blackfriars, which is now totally segregated, and heading west to Clapham Common.
There we went our separate ways, in good time to get home before dark.
My thanks to Paul for his patient company,
not to mention his photos.