Fast way to the Tatsfield Bus Stop...

Two days after the Winter Solstice and it's very dark outside when I leave the house at just gone 0700hrs. Fortunately, I thought, my rear light, which I've attached to the back of my rucksack, miraculously works. It was flashing furiously as I mounted the Rockhopper and pushed off down the drive. Oddly, my brakes were making an awful noise, something one might expect from block brakes, but not discs. Then, as I set off unsteadily towards Ellenbridge, the gears crunched and slipped, but soon I had it under control and got into the swing of things.

The flashing front light's strobe effect seemed to bring inanimate objects to life. The bollards, for instance, were pleased to see me as I hit Morley and then made a sharp right turn on to Church Way and, a few yards later, the London Cycling Network sign winked at me as I passed. I made my way up the hill, past Christmas lights that twinkled from front gardens and soon I found myself crossing the busy road at the top and rolling noiselessly through the dark churchyard where the dead slept on.

Andy's Kona decorated in time for Christmas...

Sanderstead pond was black and lifeless and then the Christmas lights of the high street greeted me with a smile along the first few hundred yards of the Limpsfield Road. The roads were busier than usual and there was an urgency about everything. It was, of course, the Saturday before Christmas, which this year falls on a Monday, meaning that people have today and, I guess, tomorrow, to finish off any last-minute shopping. I'm always amazed at the chaos of consumerism at this time of year, especially on the last weekend before the celebrations begin. People act like survivalists heading into the woods for a fortnight when the reality is just one day of being at home with the relatives. It's as if there won't be any power, all heating will be cut off and we'll all be left to fend for ourselves in a dangerous, post apocalyptic world, like something out of Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

Within the next hour I too will be a part of the circus, but first, let me tell you about today's ride. We didn't go out last week so today was the first time in a fortnight and my general slobbishness this past week has seen my weight increase a little bit (I weighed myself with clothes on and after eating breakfast, drinking tea and scoffing a few BelVita biscuits) I'm almost 13 stone, up one stone from my glory days of weight loss back in 2014. I'd better get back on the programme, stop eating pastries (which I've been doing) and reduce my biscuit intake too (we've had a couple of tins in the house, and they're almost finished). I've also got to stop eating two pieces of cake when I visit mum – one will do. But it's not just mum, of course it isn't. I was in the New Forest last week and I couldn't resist the odd cherry liqueur (alright, at least half a dozen) or a wafer thin mint or Celebrations or Miniature Heroes; and then there's my tendency to order dessert in a restaurant – it's got to stop basically.

We met at the green as usual, Andy was there when I arrived, and we decided that the fast way to the bus stop was a good idea. The weather was fine, not wet in other words, but the roads were damp. It was a mild day, but that hadn't stopped me from piling on the layers of clothing – tee-shirt, shirt, hoody. Andy, on the other hand, had followed the 'less is more' formula and claimed he was already feeling warm.

The ride was fine, it was good to be out in the fresh air, and soon we arrived at the bus stop. Out came the tea and biscuits and we sat there discussing this and that. Andy had bought me a birthday present – much needed new lights, for which I thank him profusely.

Oh dear! Tidy it up, Tandridge Council!

The Give Way sign at the Clarks Lane end of Approach Road (left) had been hit by a car – presumably. It was now tilted over at an angle and looked a trifle untidy. Andy's bike, on the other hand, was looking festive. It had been draped with silver tinsel last week when he joined pals from Ross Cycles in Caterham for a Christmas-themed off-road ride.

We played the usual game of seeing how far we could flick our teabags on to the small patch of grass in front of the bus stop and then, after a bit more small talk, we headed back towards our respective homes, parting at Warlingham Green and vowing to be back tomorrow morning for more of the same.

I sailed nonchalantly down Church Lane, even risking 'no-hands' (a sign, perhaps, that the dizziness has left the building – or has it?) and it wasn't long before the glut of the festive season hit me head-on.