Competitors and spectators alike gather downtown for this annual race (161Cong.Rec.S5003)

A recent weekend in London was full of sports events, and since I couldn't be a competitor, I set out to be a spectator. On the Saturday, I struck out early for Battersea Park, so I could run a few laps around the Peace Pagoda (left) and the fountains near the Children's Zoo (right) before taking in my first race of the weekend.

I finished my run earlier than I expected, so I killed time -- and undid all my exercise -- by having a true full English breakfast, sans mushrooms, at the nearby Battersea Grill. Once I stuffed myself with eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, toast, and grilled tomatoes, I headed back to the park's promenade to be Thames-side for the finish of the Doggett's Race.

Actor Thomas Doggett first organized the rowing race from London Bridge, near the Shard (left), to Cadogan Pier, near Albert Bridge (right), in 1715, to commemorate George I's ascension to the throne. Now, the Coat and Badge, a pub named after the prizes awarded to the winner, organizes the annual contest among young watermen.

Louis Pettipher crossed the finish line first by one of the shortest margins in recent memory (left). He was trailed by large boats with cheering fans and smaller ones with TV crews and a few former winners in their red coats and badges (right).

 

On the Sunday, everybody was talking about a different annual competition, the Community Shield match at Wembley Stadium between the winners of the Premier League, in this case Chelsea FC, and the FA Cup, the Arsenal FC. (A few days later, everyone was talking about the London Marathon because of some woman who ran without a tampon, but that world-class event -- and scandal -- actually happened back in April.)

Still finding my feet in regards to soccer -- er, football -- mania, I knew nothing about the match yet (nor the marathon, for that matter). And even if I had, tickets were long sold out, so I was more than happy to walk two blocks to watch RideLondon -- for free. When I walked Sage in the morning, they were just closing down the high street of Putney (left), but when we came past for his afternoon walk, skeins of cyclists were coming through (right).

Unfortunately, my bike didn't arrive in time for me to join the amateur FreeCycle, a dedicated cycling loop around downtown with festival stops along the way. After the amateurs cleared out of the loop on the previous day, professionals circumnavigated the part of the route around St. James's Park for the Grand Prix criterion races. The cyclists coming through my hood in the morning were mostly amateurs participating in the London-Surrey 100, an event so popular that participants are selected by lottery from the first 100,000 ballot entries (left). When the riders chugged downhill past The Railway pub, they were within 10 kilometers of the finish line (right).

 

There probably weren't many spectators for the first event of the day, the professional Handcycle Classic, but by mid-morning, some spare people, including myself, had gathered along the barriers (left). One inventive group of people used the closed-off road as an excuse to hold a street party. They were being serenaded by a string quartet as the cyclists sped by (right).

The final event of the day was the London-Surrey Classic, a 200k Olympic-style race in which 150 professional cyclists compete for the biggest one-day money pot. Event organizers handed out pamphlets with photos of the top racers' jerseys, so you could spot your favorite in the crowd. Apparently, this year's was a good race because two beloved Brits -- Bradley Wiggins, a member of the eponymous Union Cycliste Internationale Continental Team Wiggins, and Mark Cavendish, a member of the UCI Pro Team Etixx Quick-Step -- both competed. But the racers went by so fast that I couldn't pick either of them out -- nor the winner Jean-Pierre Drucker, a French-speaking interloper from Luxembourg who rides for the UCI Worldtour Team BMC Racing.

If you live in the city, spend a day in the country (ED468150)

Still thinking that London must be full of cool community festivals, I keep venturing out to ones that sound promising. One weekend, my best bet was the Waterloo Food Festival, mainly because it had the word food in the title; plus, it was direct train ride away from my neighborhood. But when I showed up at the Lower Marsh Market, all I found was a bunch of classic cars lining the streets alongside a sparse, none-too-impressive farmer's market. Turns out, this festival was much like the Streatham Food Festival, with special offers in area food establishments. In fact, even the non-food establishments were offering samples; after I bought a travelogue at the Travelling Through bookstore, I was offered a piece of cake.

I didn't want my trip to Waterloo to be a total waste, so I struck out to find The King's Arms, a historic watering hole a few blocks off Waterloo Road (left). This down-to-earth pub is situated on Roupell Street, a row of worker's houses developed in the 1820s by wealthy gold refiner John Roupell. The laidback atmosphere was reason enough to linger a while, but I was also pleasantly surprised by the range of local craft beers on tap. I had a pint of Mosaic pale ale by Kernel Brewery, a perfect blend of English bitter and American hoppy ale sensibilities, in my opinion. Also available were a Cowcatcher American pale ale and a Jamboree blond ale by East London Brewing, a Chieftain IPA by Franciscan Well Brewery, an Urban Dusk ESB by Redemption Brewing, a Mud Slinger chocolate milk stout by Wild Weather Ales, and a medium cider by Malvern Magic. I was satisfied with my earlier, free slice of cake, but if I had still been hungry, I could've ordered some Thai from the adjacent Kanchana's Kitchen (right).

Just when I was about to give up, I gave festival-hunting one last shot and finally found the motherlode, at the Lambeth Country Show. By early afternoon, Brockwell Park was layered in people for this annual event -- part amusement park, part petting zoo, part food market, part music festival, part sports exhibition, part all-day boozer.

July and August are the prime months for county fairs in Ohio, so this "country show" made me feel at home, right down to the community competitions, including for best vegetables (top left). Many of the competitors appeared to have adopted a film and TV entertainment theme. Among the scarecrow entries, set up to keep winged pests away from Brockwell Hall, was a two-for-one Titanic structure (top right). And sitting on the vegetable sculpture table was Game of Thrones' Jon Snowbergine, made from eggplant and carrots (bottom).

In another fantastical submission, corn and watermelon were used to make a fake unicorn, but there were plenty of real animals on hand, too. If you gave a donation to Berkley Owls, you got to hold one of their charges (left). In the Gate and West arena, your money got you a donkey ride (right).

In the "farm" area, I found the traditional 4-H-like pens of animals, mostly goats and sheep from Brymills Livestock, some of which were award-winning (left). Right next door, a few ewes were willingly being sheared in The Sheep Show, a kind of free ovine peep show (right).

The kids in attendance were getting their kicks on the many rides. If it weren't for the The Shard in the background, I might've thought the high-flying swings were from the Ohio State Fair midway (left). I was quite drawn to the giant inflatable slide, which brought back youthful memories of getting friction burns from sliding down a plastic one in a burlap sack (right).

 

However, I opted for the entertainment for adults, a variety of bands performing reggae, funk, soul, and jazz (left). The tunes were mostly background music, as I was distracted by my dinner: a hog roast in a bun, basically pork pulled from a whole spit-roasted pig covered with crispy crackling, savory stuffing, and chunky applesauce (right).

If there had been some country-music acts and some tractor pulls, I could've sworn I was smack dab in the middle of the Richland County Fairgrounds -- with a few exceptions. Although I distinctly remember locking myself in the cage of the Zipper ride during my days cruising the county fair, I don't recall there ever being a Skyfall zipline (top left). And there definitely were no free massages on offer in any of the outbuildings (top right). But most of all, I am absolutely certain that there were no cider, cocktail, and beer stands from which one could buy a Meantime Brewing London Lager (bottom).

An event that revolves around Bastille Day (147Cong.Rec.E1291)

Lest anyone think I am becoming too much of an Anglophile, I recently tried to balance things out with a trip to Borough Market, the oldest market in London, which was hosting a Bastille Festival. I'm not sure there's a chance of me becoming a full-on Francophile, but I can certainly admit that -- besides the near-even race for the best cheese and chips -- the French generally have the upper hand on the British when it comes to cuisine.

The festival was held in honor of Bastille Day, July 14, 1789, when citizens invaded the Paris prison in a show of force against the monarchy, forcing a turning point in the French Revolution. The citizens of London weren't nearly as forceful when they invaded the market's covered gallery to enjoy French entertainment and food.

I didn't even revolt when I waited quite a while for my galette -- a buckwheat crepe, with egg, cured ham, and comté cheese -- from the Suzette food truck. That might've been because I had a glass of sparkling Cidre Bouche from New Forest Cider to occupy myself while I stood in line. (A tablemate during a previous brewery visit had recommended I try the cidery's Kingston Black Reserve, which was on offer, but I opted to go for the French feel instead.)

My calmness and patience was rewarded with a front-row seat to some velvety songs from a French crooner accompanied by a cellist (left). Only after lunch did I stumble on the cookery demonstrations (right). Luckily, I was full, so I didn't feel the need to fight the crowd and rush the stage for the free samples. Truth be told, even without the extra snacks, I did leave the festival feeling a tad Francophilic.