It’s been a lovely weekend, so today I was out on my bike taking some photos. I headed down to the South Bank and was near the front of Tate Modern capturing a couple of pictures of the people nearby.
There were thousands of other people about. Tourists; locals; people working.
I moved on further towards the Southbank centre, cycling along Upper Ground.
At some point, I realised that my bike had lost its bike computer – a neat Garmin GPS unit. It’s not cheap.
Had I put it in my bag? No. My pockets? No. I checked everywhere twice, and then again. It was gone.
The one place I thought I might have dropped it was near the Tate where I’d stopped to take photos. In fact I’d been by the railings on the embankment there, and it’s possible, I thought, that it had gone over the edge and landed on the “beach” below. It had been low tide I remembered.
I cycled back wondering about how much a replacement would cost, with the vague hope that it was still lodged in the mud below. I found the spot where I’d stopped, and what do you know?
On the floor, just sitting there quite close to the railings in front of Tate Modern, was my blue and white GPS bike computer. This was at least half an hour later. Hundreds of people had walked by. It was upside down, which probably helped. To the unsuspecting eye, it was a piece of white plastic. But it was still there – essentially unscathed.
As I verbalised my incredulity, a chap nearby with a couple of kids just put it down to the nice weather and people being good on days like these.
Incidentally, down below the tide had come in – it’s fast along the Thames – and there would have been no chance to seek it in the mud.