A brief walk around these Sunny Stockwell parts, mainly with various errands, but also partly emotional. Some things always come to an end, Comrades.

It was something of a comical walk as well. I closed the flat door behind me, and then ARSE. My bloody keys were inside the flat. I was suppose to be handing over the keys to a random. So I carried on to see the bloke who was expecting them, only to ask for his set instead. Perfect.

Life, etc.

Hey hoe. It all meant a few backwards and forwards around the Stockwell, Oval and Kennington Triangle. Have legs, have iPhone camera, will travel etc.

Not a lot has changed, yet everything has changed. Maybe not physically, but certainly within. You’ll miss it when it’s gone - although I have a suspicion it’s not quite going for me, not yet.

Later in the day I was cycling through Elephant for the first time in a few months. Woh. Now there’s a neighbourhood that has changed since I last passed through. The development above the station looks pretty much finished. The old Faraday substation has been dwarfed.

Always on the move.

A new gym opens at Palfrey Place, SW8. Back in the day and this would have been ideal for me. The motivation to get from the settee to a fitness station is only a two minute walk away. Getting from SW8 over to Brixton Rec to sweat your hairy arse off was sometimes a struggle.

I scroll down to the link in the local newsletter, taking me though to the website for the new gym. They’re a local set up, and not a chain. There’s a sister gym over in Herne Hill.

A quick shifty at the prices for circuit training, and SHIT THE BED, £16.50 for a 55 minute session. I pay double that for my entire monthly gym membership back in the bloody Estuary Wilds. This includes swimming, the spa, the entire gym floor and a a schedule of classes every day.

It’s all about the swimming for me. Oh, and falling asleep in the spa.

Am I really so out of touch with the cost of living shit? Sixteen chuffing pounds fifty for a circuit session? That’s my motivation knocked stone dead.

I’m not going to link to the new gym. Good luck, fellas, honest. I suspect there’s enough Bright Young Things around SW8 these days who will be around to make a success of it.

Another ‘almost missed this one’ snap. Judging by the lack of a sun setting, I’ll let you make your own mind up.

I did have plans to go out late in the afternoon. The BBC weather forecast argued against me. I’m pleased that I took the advice.

This hit and miss snap has S Ldn rain swirling around. WET rain.

And yes - there is a difference.

It’s been an incredibly mild day around these SW8 parts. T-shirts were the wardrobe choice for many - which is BONKERS, the day after Bonfire Night.

I was hoping for something of a killer Sunny Stockwell sunset. 6/10.

Must try harder.

SHOUT OUT to the old school punk sitting out side the Socialist Party of GB HQ as I ran along Clap’ham High Street this morning.

If it wasn’t for me pounding the mean streets of SW4, I probably would have stopped by for a chat.

The fella was rocking the Punk’s Not Dead look. He wouldn’t have looked out of place on an Exploited album cover from 1984.

Some form of staff was in place. My eyes lit up at first when I thought he was flogging on old punk CD’s.

The return leg of the route concluded that it was Socialist pamphlets.

The revolution will be involve cheap cider, etc.

He stood out like a punk on a postcard along Clap’ham High Street. Even with the Bright Young Things of SW4 back at work, passing through Clap’ham is like landing in another Universe these days.

I pressed on with the run, back down to earth and back down to Sunny Stockwell. I took in the lovely Larkhall Park detour.

The Tree Men were in place, chatting shit etc, buried away amongst the bushes.

It’s a very localised sight, and even then, one that you might miss and you run or walk past.

The Tree Men are a group of elderly fellas who take cover in some of the bushes around the Wandsworth Road end of the park. They turn the daily gathering into quite an event, with picnic stools and music.

The picnic of choice appears to be BOOZE and strong weed.

But they’re harmless.

Like the Punk’s Not Dead dude of SW4, the Tree Men of lovely Larkhall are a reminder that South London 2025 is not all about luxury apartments and hot yoga.

Life carries on behind the fringes, often in pretty bleak circumstances. That doesn’t make it any less worthy.

It looks so peaceful. Trust me, it’s not at 5pm on 5th November 🧨

Now that’s more like it.

Wrap up warm, soak up the S Ldn rays and it could be mid-June.

Sorta.

I’ll miss the Veteran Car Run chugging along South Lambeth Road, if future personal plans ever come to something. Every November, for a quarter of a Century (!) I’ve been woken by the sound of the classic cars slowly making their way towards Brixton.

It’s Destination Brighton for the relics as part of the annual coastal run. It must be a challenge for some of them to make it even as far as St Reatham up the road.

You can hear them coming at the Stockwell end of South Lambeth Road all the way from the Little Porto end. Those old engines aren’t exactly cutting edge EV technology. It’s the one exception I can make without going ape shit over petrol polluters.

Sunday morning was very similar to the previous twenty four years of observing the grand old spectacle. It always seems to rain on this one weekend of the year. The dampness combined with the petrol led to a very intoxicating smell.

The drivers and passengers looked dapper. I was more in awe with some of the wardrobe decisions than the old bangers themselves.

This may - or may not - be my final year of observing this tradition. I like to think that the Veteran Car Run will still be taking place in twenty five years time.

And I didn’t even add the clickbait Wankerville to the title.

An hour or so later after this snap was taken, the S Ldn skies were illuminated with an incredible fireworks display. I think it was from Battersea Park.

Fireworks make for crap photos on an iPhone. I’ll stick with the Same as it Ever Was Sunny Stockwell Skies.