Our lovely Co founder Felicity Goodson died on 2nd January 2025. Here Robert McGowan shares his memories of her, and her passion for everyday cycling. If you have memories of Felicity you would also like shared on this page please email them to writetogem@gmail.com.
An encounter in Gildredge Park
A final foray through the aisles: I gathered cranberry sauce, a box of crackers, red napkins, mixed nuts, dried apricots, wine, French cheese. And emerged from Waitrose to a damp, chilly greyness and fading light. It was Christmas Eve (babe) – and there was food to prepare, sherry to drink and presents to wrap by the fireside. But something persuaded me to take the scenic route and cycle home through Gildredge Park.
Into first gear, up the ramp, jink to the right, then through the narrow archway – can I still negotiate it without putting a foot down? Just about. The trees and ornamental shrubs were mist-shrouded, almost devoid of colour, yet photogenic. I reached for my phone and tried to frame a tame squirrel, but it scurried off. I heard footsteps from behind, a burble of conversation – then my name, called softly.
I turned to see Felicity and Floyd, arm in arm, strolling up the hill. Marvellous! I knew Felicity had been ill – and that she had recently stopped the chemotherapy, but I hadn’t seen her for a while.
Our conversation flowed easily: red squirrels, and her forester father’s dislike of their more aggressive grey cousins, music, folklore, old Sussex stories – Felicity and Floyd grew up near Arundel and went to the same school – Christmas plans. And, of course, cycling.
I first met Felicity at a Bespoke meeting, back in the mists of time, perhaps 2011 or 2012. It’s a monthly gathering in a pub – of locals who want to help make Eastbourne and the surrounding area a much safer and better place for anyone to ride a bicycle. It’s about lobbying the Councils and building support for a traffic-free cycle route along the seafront, as can be found in almost all of Britain’s seaside towns.
And encouraging schools and colleges to help make it easy and safe for their students to walk or cycle, as they once did. Felicity had always cycled, she told me – growing up in West Sussex, while studying drama at Guildford in the 1980s (living close to where I did, as it happened), and all over London after that, from home in Crystal Palace to many a West End theatre and back. She and Floyd had never owned a car.
Moving to Eastbourne in the early 2000s and alarmed by how hostile it felt to ride her bike around town, Felicity founded Bespoke Cycle Group with a group of like-minded parents. She brought so much to the group: passion, dedication, an infectious enthusiasm and sense of fun. Organising mass bike rides along the busy, congested seafront road is not for the faint-hearted. But Felicity would always be there – at the front, deftly wielding a megaphone while riding, her little dog peeking out of a basket suspended from the handlebars. There were all sorts of theatrical costumes, poems and songs. Eastbourne’s pedalling Pied Piper, she charmed and cajoled – and brought so many of us along for the ride, if not the powers that be who are in charge of cycle infrastructure.
We talked about the ride we’d organised last summer – along the Sussex coast to Bexhill and Hastings to demonstrate the ecotourism potential of a safe route to various leaders and decision-makers. Might something happen in 2025? Feeling a bit weak, Felicity sat for a while on the stone step in front of the elegant Victorian summer house. Her dark green raincoat shimmered slightly in the pale light, contrasting festively with her scarlet cap. Would she mind if I took a photograph?
We wandered past the garden of Gildredge Manor, where we’d had our wedding reception in 2015 – at which Felicity had sung beautifully to us – and exited the park through a narrow gateway in the stout flint wall. “Merry Christmas!” And they walked away. Down the gentle slope towards The Lamb in the last of the light.
Felicity Goodson-Bevan
27th January 1960 – 2nd January 2025
Felicity Goodson-Bevan: an actor, singer, yoga teacher, cycle campaigner and beautiful soul.
She is survived by her husband, Floyd Bevan and their son, Harry.
