The reason for the short run on Saturday was because I had commitments - well, one commitment: to organise a car for myself. Anyway, the plan was to visit the car showrooms and to take on one of those hefty 'personal plans', but to be honest, my heart wasn't in it. I'm not that type of person. I don't fork out, or rather, commit to a huge loan for a car. Car's don't appeal, I've always had secondhand cars and I've always driven them into the ground - like now (I own a 1997 316i BMW and it's on it's last legs). And that's the whole point: sooner or later it's going to leave me stranded on the hard shoulder of the M25, M26 or M20. Except that, so far (and we're talking one month in of doing 400 miles per week) nothing untoward has happened.
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My 1997 BMW 316i on the drive - now doing 400 miles
per week on three motorways.
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The plan was to cycle to Hunger's End, but my commitments meant I could only afford a short ride – but then, when I returned, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to meet the smarmy car salesmen, we decided to buy our son's similarly spec'd BMW (a coupe version of ours and the same age). So, we didn't bother with car salesmen and we've saved ourselves the worry of commiting to such a large sum of money.
Secretly, however, I'd rather like a brand new car, but the voice of reason says no - not yet at any rate.
So, Tatsfield it was, followed on Sunday by a pleasant ride to Westerham, where all the benches were drenched with dew, forcing us to lean against the statue of Winston Churchill.
The thing is, while I fully expected to be able to visit Hunger's End this coming weekend - even down to chatting with Jon at lunchtime and running through what I planned to eat (scrambled egg on two slices of thick toast and a mug or two of tea) I reached home to discover that I have to be at the tint shop to have tinted windows restored to normal (a condition of the insurance).
So, guys, if you're listening - or rather reading - I can't go to Hunger's End this weekend either!
