The views of a short distance runner

Occasionally I go for a run from my flat in Farringdon and down Regent's Canal from Islington (or Islingtwat as I call it) to Victoria Park. And, of course, back again. It's about 6 miles. In summer it's a really nice run except for all the other people out on the towpath for a stroll or the cyclists out on the towpath for a hurtle. It's less crowded now it's getting colder so it's less bloody annoying to be on. These are the sort of views one can see when one does this run. Assuming:

1. You've avoided falling into the canal (trickier than it looks).

2. You aren't beating a cyclist to death for ringing his/her stupid bell and, wrongly as it turns out, assuming that the little pinging noise temporarily makes no else exist. Helmeted bell pinging wankers.

e) Fish (long story).

vii) A photographer hasn't suddenly darted in front of you and then, after you've saved her life by stopping so suddenly your knee bursts and your hair hurts, tutting. Well I'm sorry, madam, for exercising my legal right to go for a sedate run down the canal. How could I have been so selfish to not be psychic enough to realise you were going to do something unbelievably stupid, you daft bint.

Honestly. Some people. Here's the pics.

The lake at Victoria Park

An ad for Ron's Eel and Shell fish shop. I feel a T-shirt coming on. There's some really poor typography going on here. Go on. Click on the pic and see how difficult the copy is to read. I looked into this ad and found out it was art directed by Englebert Humperstink. So that explains it.

This is a drinking fountain. No really. It is. A massive bloody drinking fountain.

(I like the idea of public drinking fountains but I'd always be worried about miscreants rubbing their bottoms on the nozzles.)

A building.