To the Tatsfield churchyard...

I realised the other day that, apart from two rides in Indianapolis the week before last (scroll down to see both posts) I haven't riden out, in the traditional sense, for about a month. In fact, the last time Andy and I hit the road we rode to Tatsfield village and then a mixture of rain and travelling prevented further rides.

This weekend, however, with the weather fantastic – hot sun, clear skies – it was even a case of heading out in a tee-shirt and not the usual layers of clothing. It's amazing how fast the scenery can change when the sun raises its head. Warlingham Green is now in full bloom and the banks alongside the 269 are full of greenery overhanging into the road.

Sanderstead pond, Sunday 18th May 2014. Note the reeds in full bloom.

As I rode past the pond at Sanderstead the reeds were in full bloom, there was a comfortable, warm breeze and all was good with the world. I was running a little late, but nothing to be concerned about and when I reached the green Andy was there and ready to go. We headed for Knight's Garden Centre and beyond and decided to go to the Tatsfield churchyard rather than Westerham and the café, our original plan.

Once seated we discussed my recent trip to Indianapolis and then moved on the current round of celebrity sex trials, the hottest right now being Rolf Harris. What we were both amazed about is how the law in this country is so fickle. The normal state of affairs is that you're innocent until proven guilty, but in cases like those surrounding Rolf Harris, the recently imprisoned Max Clifford and the soon-to-be re-tried Dave Lee Travis, it's the other way around. In fact, the onus is on the defendants, once accused, to prove that they are innocent despite the fact that the whole thing is based, in the eyes of the jury, on the word of one person against the other, there's little in the way of hard evidence and basically, any woman can accuse any man of sexual impropriety and the man in question would have to undergo a trial in court.

What amazes me is how anybody can have a clear memory of anything that happened over 30 years ago. I know that I have trouble remembering the names of former colleagues from as little as 10 years ago.

With the current trials there is certainly something afoot; there's more to it than meets the eye and we, the public, as usual, are being kept in the dark. I suspect part of it is to do with the fact that 'they' can't get Saville (because he's dead) so they have to convict somebody (anybody) in order to redress the balance. Scapegoats are always required and the whole things fuels another caper, possibly dreamed up by the secret services: that there are paedophiles lurking on every street corner and that even friendly, neighbourhood celebrities are kiddie fiddlers.

We began to wonder whether the secret services were in some way involved and that the agenda was wider than just getting somebody to pay for Saville's crimes. Ultimately, it's all about social control, keeping people off the streets and instilling a sense of fear in the populous – when the reality is there's nothing to fear. There are so many examples of this: think Tony Blair and his 45-minute warning on WMD. It was all lies. Suddenly we found ourselves agreeing with those who are generally rubbished by the establishment – the conspiracy theorists.

But, as always, it's one of those arguments that will never be won or understood so we sipped our tea, munched our Kellogg's Nutragrain bars and watched two gravediggers who simply stood around chatting for the entire time we were there. Talk about easy money.