Interesting facts

Bought a copy of The Economist yesterday. I used to read it regularly and found that I was always up-to-date with what was going on in the world – and quite annoyingly clued-up about things in general too.

The Eitai Bridge in Tokyo,  the world's largest city in 2010.

Anyway, in the current edition – and I'd imagine in all issues – there's a page called Liveanomics and it lists various facts about this and that. For instance, the world's fastest growing cities in terms of forecasted annual growth between 2006 and 2020. The fastest is Beihai in China with 10.6 per cent followed by Ghaziabad in India (5.2 per cent), Sana'a in Yemen (5 per cent); Surat in India (5 per cent) and Kabul (4.7 per cent).

What I found staggering, though, was London's demise as one of the world's largest cities. Back in 1950, New York-Newark was the largest city with a population of 12.34 million people. Tokyo was second with 11.27 million people, followed by London with 8.36 million, Paris with 6.52 million and Moscow with 5.36 million.

Today, Tokyo takes top place with 36.67 million, Delhi is second with 22.16 million, Sao Paulo with 20.26 million, Mumbai with 20.04 million and Mexico City with 19.46 million. London is nowhere to be seen! And nor is New York!

Tatsfield Bus Stop – always a safe bet

I discovered, last week (Sunday 13 February) that it wasn't my front brake that was playing up but my rear brake and no, I've done nothing about it since. I had planned to cycle over Andy's way, where there's a bike shop, and get it repaired, but I didn't because I had too much else on, such as passing the magazine for press (which took a week in the end).

Andy at the Tatsfield Bus Stop on Sunday 13 February. His arse was not wet.

In fact, I didn't even get out during the week on my half-hour sprint cycles – until yesterday and by then it was obvious that by not going, I'd slowly become less fit as the week progressed. How do I know? Because towards the end of last week - when I went out every day – I was getting home with three minutes and 27 seconds to spare before the 30-minute alarm was set off. Yesterday, when I ventured out after four days off, the margin had reduced to just one minute and 21 seconds: considerably slower.

After leaving Andy and reaching Botley, I took this rather bleak photograph.

Last Sunday, Andy and I had gone to the Tatsfield bus top, a place that is rapidly becoming our default destination. It's a good 16-mile round trip and we can enjoy our tea and cereal bars in all weathers. Which brings me to the subject of my arse. Yes, my arse. My cold, wet and uncomfortable arse that makes it impossible for me to sit down. I can't bear the thought or the feeling of sitting down with a wet bottom and, for this reason alone, I'm considering mudguards. Yes, cosmetic surgery for the bike, the dirt jumper, and another sign, perhaps, that maturity is beginning to take over as it does when you have a 'sensible haircut' or buy 'sensible shoes'. I know that my bike was not the 'sensible' choice, but by shoving on some mudguards, it gains a bit of the mundane – and I get to have a dry arse!

Anyway, I haven't done it yet, because there hasn't been time so at the moment it's still an immature, unsensible bike and if I venture out today – as was planned with Jon – by now I'd have a wet arse. Why? Because it's raining out there and my proposed trip to Woodmansterne Green has just been cancelled.

So, here I am writing my blog and wondering what to do for two days I've decided to take off during the half-term holidays next week.

My road home. Just leaving the Botley and heading towards Sanderstead on the B269.

I'll hopefully go cycling tomorrow, but that depends on many different things. It's game on at the moment with Andy and we'll probably go to Tatsfield Village, but who knows? Better go...