It’s my walking speed and I’ll travel at it if I want to …

Let’s use our imaginations for a moment.

It’s a Tuesday morning.

You didn’t sleep particularly well last night – a bout of insomnia – so you’ve had maybe five hours sleep.

You’re due in work for night and your train to London Bridge arrived a few minutes late, was sardine packed, has crawled along the line and you’ve just got off at London Bridge to find there’s no access to the Northern Line. From London Bridge to your work is 35 mins brisk walk and work starts in 40.

So a quick girdle of the loins and you set off.

Somewhere around Bank, well into your stride, somebody stops you, accosts you with a smile and hands you a speeding ticket.

“Sorry mate, you were walking too fast. Try life in the slow lane!”

I’m not certain a jury in the land would convict me …

From April 24th for a couple of weeks, the Go Slow campaign hits London. Well, not so much hits, as ambles into, admiring the scenary.

I do actually tend to support the ideals of Go Slow – it’s about taking the time to think things through, to take note of the surroundings, to take a few moments for yourself and not feel like you have to get to point B ASAP.

But there are times when going fast is kinda necessary – getting to work on time, getting to a hospital if your wife has just gone into labour, getting to a train station to catch the train that takes you to the seaside to catch up with friends for a day.

And those are exactly the times when having someone stop you are the most frustrating.

The idea of a Slow Down London festival  is great – but the idea of having that idea imposed upon you does seem to defeat the whole purpose of such a concept.

Years of living in tourist towns have given me a faster than average walking speed and an appreciation for not dawdling in the middle of a throughfare, or not stopping on a corner to check a map, or actually getting my wallet out before reaching the front of the queue.

Having a chugger hand me a piece of paper (hear the trees cry out and the rubbish bins smile) that suggest that I should roll into work a few minutes late having inhaled a little more particulate matter almost makes me want to don the power walking gear.

Or sharpen the elbow pads at least …