It rained heavily for the first two hours of my third day, and the sky was an endless grey. I soon got soaked, since I've got no mudguards on my bike. My imitation Converse sneakers were so wet they squelched when I walked. I did have a waterproof top, at least, and I put on my gloves but they soon got soaked too. I actually could have done with glasses it was raining so much.

My first job was a pick-up from London Bridge and bizarre street numbering meant it took me a long time to find the place and I wasted time walking around in the rain. It was to be delivered to Victoria, a good distance in heavy rain. I think my brain got scrambled a bit since I went the long way around here, too. At the delivery address I made conversation with a friendly receptionist while waiting for the guy to come down, since I said I was too wet to go in.

Next job was a pick-up from the House of Commons. The policeman at the visitors entrance where I'd been told to go in knew nothing about it and told me to go to the post room. I walked back to my bike to find another policeman standing next to it inquisitively. I'd locked it to a lamp post by the crash barriers. You're not meant to do this. He told me the IRA had been known to put bombs in bikes. If I'd left it there longer they'd have cut my lock and taken it away. I tried calling my operator over the radio to confirm the pick-up address, but the radio kept cutting out. So the policeman helpfully went inside and called the contact number. He came back ten minutes later holding the package - I was at the right place after all - and told me what to ask for in future.

By now about two hours had gone, time wasted in the rain, looking at maps, and standing around. Fortunately then the rain cleared, the sun came out, and I had a pleasant afternoon and did a lot of jobs. There were some really fun rides, for example from Theobalds Road to Hoxton Street, and from St James Square to Cannon Street going all the way along the Thames. The furthest north I went was a photo studio near an estate in N1, De Beauvoir Town. As I was standing around checking my map, half a dozen teenagers on bikes quickly appeared out of an estate. One of them shouted "Move it!" but not in an unfriendly way.

My radio battery was dieing on me and by 4.30pm I couldn't transmit messages at all, so I had to phone him and tell him. He told me to do my last drop-off then come back to base. But as I was cycling near Marble Arch, my chain snapped! My drop-off was perhaps a mile and a half away in Covent Garden. I briefly had the comical idea of putting my bike in a cab, but decided to push my bike there instead and still made it before close of play. Then I limped home to the courier firm and got given a longer-lasting radio. I live in daily terror of my radio or XDA dieing on me since I'm so dependent on them. (Though if the XDA goes they can give you directions over the radio, and you carry a clipboard so you can get signatures on paper).

The controller told me I should be more brief when talking on the radio to conserve the battery, but that generally I was doing fine.

A very kind chap from the Gutshot who I only met this week (but who's a friend of my best friend there) generously said I could have his old Trek 470 racer, so then I took a taxi to his flat to pick it up. The bike needs the handlebars and saddle adjusted to fit me, both tires and tubes to be replaced, and some oil, but looks like a good bike and I'm very grateful of it. I'll ride it this weekend and decide which to use as my main bike.

I left both bikes locked up and got a taxi to Brick Lane Bikes five minutes before it was going to close. I paid the money I owed for yesterday and bought two tires, two tubes, and a chain link tool for fixing broken chains. The bikeshop owner gave me the 10% discount that they give to couriers. He told me the most important part of the job was staying on the right side of the controller. He said a very small number of couriers make £800 a week, but they're ones who get regular contract jobs which pay more.

Then another taxi back to the bikes. I was in a good mood and made conversation with all the cabbies today. Then I spent a long time trying to fix the chain but lacking the dexterity to do it.

A man and his girlfriend walking back from the pub stopped to ask if I had the right tools. The guy said he would help. He was very into bikes. His girlfriend went home. He couldn't fix it either -the newly-purchased tool was slightly wonky - so said he would go to his nearby house, pick up a better tool and come back. And he did! Well, that was fortunate.

 

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