To the Tatsfield Bus Stop – heavy fog meant the slow way there and back...

Another mild morning and we met at the green as usual. We headed for the Tatsfield Bus Stop the slow way. Weatherwise everything was damp and wet and glistening and there was a fog looming, hanging in the trees, so we thought the slow way would be safer. There was a few Lycra monkeys on the road, and even more when we headed back along Beddlestead towards Hesiers Hill. This time, as I approached the climb I changed down and managed the gears properly. I stayed in a low gear for the second hill before things levelled out and we headed for the green where we parted.

There's always something musical that keeps me moving along. The other day it was a Christmas carol, the Sans Carol, but today it was Misty Mountain Hop by Led Zeppelin, I know not why. My in-built Walkman kept playing it over and over. "Walking in the park just the other day..."

We reached the green at 0930hrs and I got home 20 minutes later. A good ride.

To Godstone Green via the Enterdent

Saturday morning, the weather's fine and as usual I'm 'a tad' late, no more than 10 minutes, but I had issues surrounding making the tea, nothing major. We decided to head for Godstone Green via the Enterdent. Yes, I know, it sounds like toothpaste, but it's a road and a very steep hill. It's also much longer than I remember it, and that's possibly because I haven't been this way for some time, let's say around eight years. It's amazing how time has flown by. Amazing and scary too, but yes, I was back on the Enterdent, riding up the hill, and wishing it would end if I'm honest, it seemed endless, but soon we turned right and virtually free-wheeled into Godstone, past the 'artisan baker', which we discovered was really a Coughlan's. We took a seat in front of the small lake on the green and watched as a flock of seagulls landed, frightening off two ducks who seemed to disappear off the face of the planet, clearly they were not impressed by the gulls. There were people around too: a woman walking two small dogs and getting tangled up in the lead, another woman with an Alsatian and a couple of blokes too, not forgetting a couple of runners.

The bikes on Godstone Green,  30 December 2018. Pic: Andy Smith

We headed back the way we came in, but avoided the Enterdent. It's a quite a haul going out of Godstone and heading for Ganger's Hill. It's steep, as we know from past rides, the most recent being on Christmas Eve when we visited Flowers Farm for tea and cake. No such luxury today, just tea and Belvitas, but they did the job, even if I'm trying to stop eating biscuits (and cake). As the hill kicked in, I changed down in to low gear and did my best not to looked pained as I ascended the hill. The bike was being very noisy today. Clickety clack, clickety clack as I rode to Godstone and more of the same on the way back, it was annoying me.

Andy and I parted at the top of Sline's Oak Road, just like on Christmas Eve, and I once again rode down the hill, turning left on to Butlers Dene Road. I jumped back on to Sline's Oak and headed up the steep hill to the Limpsfield Road, losing momentum once, but managing to restart with relative ease and then riding leisurely towards Warlingham Green and then Sanderstead.

I reached home around 1030hrs, quite late considering our usual rides are much shorter, but I blame the hills en route (the Enterdent and then, of course, Ganger's). The bike needs a jet clean and one of these days it'll get one. It's also going to get its chain oiled and I must fix that fucking clickety clacking too.

Boxing Day – fast way to Tatsfield Bus Stop (and the slow way back)...

Drinking tea at the bus stop. Pic: Andy.

Another late start. I leave the house at 0730hrs and head up Church Way. A squirrel scuttles across the road from right to left, runs along the top of a low fence and disappears into the undergrowth. Houses display their festive decorations and soon I find myself riding through the churchyard, past Sanderstead pond and on to the Limpsfield Road. I'm heading for the green where I meet Andy. The weather is fine, no rain, and there's little in the way of traffic so we decide to risk the 269 rather than ride the slow way. "But let's ride the slow way back," I suggest and we agree, even if it does mean Hesiers Hill. At Botley we notice a mist, it's fairly thick so my lights go back on. Soon we reach the bus stop where we chill out, drink tea and I turn down the biscuits for a second day – the problem with Christmas is eating all the wrong food: minced pies, Panettone, Christmas cake, cheeses, crackers, pickled onions (yes, I own a jar of Garner's); it's all going on and besides, I need to stop eating shit. We ride back the slow way, down Beddlestead Lane, and then it's time for Hesiers Hill. Unlike the last time, I change right down and manage to sail along without any issues, getting a few 'well done' comments from passing Lycra monkeys coming down the hill. Andy and I weave our way towards Sainsbury's and then head for the green where we part company. All the way home along the Limpsfield Road I recite the Sans Day Carol, aka the St. Day Carol, but because I haven't sung it for years and years, I get the lyrics wrong. Actually, not badly wrong: "And Mary bore Jesus Christ, our saviour for to be," I sing (fairly quietly), but it's "And Mary she bore Jesus our Saviour for to be." I reach Sanderstead and soon I'm on Church Way again, riding downhill towards Morley, hanging a right on Elmfield, a left into Ellenbridge and a right on to Barnfield. Soon I'm home and soon I find myself on a five-mile walk, which I enjoy. Tomorrow I'm planning an 8-mile walk.

Christmas Eve – to Flowers Farm for tea and cake!

Tea and cake at Flowers Farm, Christmas Eve 2018. Pic by Andy Smith.

I leave the house later than usual. We are meeting at 0800hrs. Dawn is breaking as I ride through suburban streets, heading uphill. It's Christmas Eve, traffic is heavier than usual, I wait longer to cross the Addington Road and then speed through the churchyard, past the pond and on to the Limpsfield Road. Andy is waiting. We decide to head for Godstone and Flowers Farm. It means riding down Slines Oak Road and through Woldingham, something we haven't done for a long time, or perhaps not that long ago. We both recall the occasion not when a deer scampered across the road in front of us. Woldingham is quiet as we pedal along Butlers Dene Road on onwards towards the golf course via 'the off-road bit' I so despise, but today it seems easier than in days gone by and why this should be so I don't know. Andy and I both marvel at the houses we pass. "Who needs such a large house?" says Andy. Nobody, I reply, but it must be a way that rich people use up their cash, an investment. We ride down Gangers Hill, over the M25, over the A22 and on to the A25. It's a short ride to Flowers Farm where people are queuing to buy turkeys and the shop is overflowing with colourful fruit and vegetables. There's a café – and it's a good one. We've been here before. The cake is excellent, there's a roaring fire, a wood burning stove, although it's warming up as we arrive. Cake is ordered: a lemon cake and an apple cake plus a pot of tea and some slices of apple. "I haven't had an apple in ages," says Andy. "Me neither," I reply. We wait for our order to arrive and when it does we tuck in. This is my sort of place, I could sit here all day, staring out of the window, eating cake, sipping tea, but we can't stay too long, we have to ride back, and it's a hard slog, a very hard slog, not initially, but once we round the corner, taking a sharp right turn, the hill hits us hard, but it's not that hard, not as hard as the Westerham hill, although much shorter. It is a short, sharp shock and we both stay on our saddles, emerging on to The Ridge unscathed. We are back in Woldingham on the other side of the golf course. We sail past the club house and into Woldingham, stopping at the top of Slines Oak Road where we part company. No ride on Christmas Day, but we will be riding on Boxing Day, weather permitting. I sail down Slines Oak Road and hang a left on to Butlers Dene Road and then further along I turn right on to a gravel track that is peppered with puddles. A man with a large Alsatian dog is coming the other way. I turn left on to the Slines Oak Road and follow it to the Limpsfield Road. There's a steep incline, but I stay on the bike and turn left towards Warlingham. Much more traffic now, people doing 'last minute Christmas shopping', the stores will be packed today, I think, as I ride into Sanderstead, past the pond and head down Church Way towards home. I have a lot to do too (last minute presents, helping people out here and there) and soon it will be evening, time to hit the sack and wake up on Christmas morning.

Taking the slow way...

Saturday 22nd December, Tatsfield Bus Stop. Pic by Andy Smith

Saturday 22nd December: It's the day after the shortest day and darkness is on the menu. I leave the house at 0700hrs with my lights on and don't switch them off until I reach the bus stop. We opt for the slow way and it's far warmer than last week when black ice took Andy off his bike. He tells me that it was, after all, pretty painful, blood was drawn, he discovered on returning home and all week there was pain, but he's better now. We take it easy, riding down Hesiers Hill with our hands covering the brakes, slowing us down, it's not safe, but it's not icy either and I'm feeling energised all the way along Beddlestead. Little in the way of Lycra monkeys as we climb the hill, emerging on to Clarks Lane and hanging a left. We freewheel to the bus stop, park up and I serve tea. Andy hands out the BelVita biscuits, but I'm not that hungry, I've already eaten a hearty breakfast. I make do with just one. A bunch of monkeys ride past en route to Westerham as we continue to sip our tea and watch the cars travelling east and west. With Christmas just up the road, it's busier than normal, more cars on the road, plenty of bustle and it gets worse as the day progresses. Well, at least it's not raining. We ride back the slow way, very scenic, amazing how the landscape looks totally different when we turn the road inside out, ride backwards almost, rewind the tape so to speak. I wonder whether it's possible to free wheel all the way to Hesiers Hill, but then I forget to try and start pedalling. The hill is hard, harder because I get muddled with the gears, change up instead of down, lose momentum, end up stopping and find it difficult to get going. I'm on the move again, I don't stop until I reach the top and then we wind our way around the lanes, past St Leonard's church, then another hill, I mess up again, in the wrong gear, a constant problem, but I'll remember next time, perhaps tomorrow, except there is no tomorrow, it's rained off. I'm awake early, around 0430hrs, I lie there, right hand fretfully on forehead, thinking bad thoughts about the day ahead, it's going to be hectic one way or another and all I want to do is nothing, but that's not on the agenda, not today. I hear the rain falling and it doesn't stop. I finally get out of bed at 0600hrs, it's still coming down, I look at the puddle on next door's conservatory roof, stair rods, well, not quite, but it's relentless. "Looks like 'abort' as it's pissing down here," I write and send to Andy. "Yes, fingers crossed for tomorrow," he replies. Later on it is still raining and I am downstairs listening to Green by REM, the ride is off and I try to keep a tally on what day it is, soon I will lose it completely, that's the way it is with Christmas, I lose track of time. "What day is it?" A frequently asked question, but time to start reading Girlfriend in a Coma by Douglas Coupland, a book that's been hard to find. I like Coupland. I read Generation X, it has a special quality, reminds me of the America I love. Right now I feel slobby. I haven't been on the ride, but today would have been cut short as there's stuff to do, people to give lifts to, jobs to be done, visits to be made and I've got a new coat that I'm excited about wearing, makes me feel like Kurt Russell in The Thing. I've always been a big baby and still am, I can't really grow up, that's my problem. Paddy Ashdown has died, aged 77, after a short illness and I am reminded of the time I met him, on a train, somewhere near Salisbury, a six-pack of Wadworth's 4X, time travel, he had a view, a good man for engaging in a crazy conversation, he didn't ignore us, he got involved, clearly a proper politician, a dying breed, literally in his case.

A weird dream...

Strange and vivid dream last night involving motorcycles, a car park, a large European manufacturer, central London and a lunch appointment. It also involved people, but people who traditonally don't have bald heads, being inflicted with what I can only describe as a 'clown cut' – bald in the middle but with tufts of hair on the sides of their heads. Nick Knowles and Gary Lineker sported such haircuts and they also worked for the aforementioned large European manufacturer. I'm not sure what was going on with this part of the dream as the main focus was the motorcycling. Initially, two bikes were involved in the dream, but somewhere along the line my bike went missing, or something was wrong with it, I don't know, but I ended up with the other bike, which was totally different: it was squat and bulbous and had short handlebars. I had to ride this bike and my plan was to ride it to a restaurant somewhere in London where I would hand it back to its original owner. I found myself in a car park from where I had to ride the bike out on to the road. I managed fairly well, getting the hang of things pretty quickly, but at some stage I crossed to the wrong side of the road and on to the pavement, all without falling off, but I can't remember arriving at the restaurant. This was when Nick Knowles – or was it Gary Lineker? – turned up sporting their bald hair cuts. They worked for a large industrial conglomerate on the European mainland and for some reason we were all congregating close to the car park from where my motorcyling excursion had started. There was a woman in a navy blue suit who had one of those suitcases with a telescopic handle, but her handle was ridiculously long, let's say at least 20 feet, and I was charged with the task of pulling the case into where we were all standing while keeping the handle fully extended. I managed it, but the main thrust of the dream was the motorcycle, although there was, for some reason, a small car in that car park and I had something to do with it. At one stage I wandered down to the lower level (let's make it clear now, this wasn't a multi-storey, it was a badly-surfaced, mossy space of ground on a slant) and there I saw the car, doors open, sparks flying, something was wrong with it. I can't remember much more about the dream or why I had it.

St. Leonard's Church and the Tatsfield Bus Stop...

I had a broken night and strongly considered an 'abort' text, but in the end I fell asleep and when I woke up I discovered it was 0700hrs and not an hour earlier. I'd reset the alarm on Thursday night and hadn't switched it back to 0600hrs. A text was sent to Andy suggesting a meeting at 0800hrs. Yes, came the reply, but the ride would need to be shorter. Fine.

It was cold out and I was unable to find my balaclava, which seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. When I reached the bus stop Andy suggested we rode to St. Leonard's Church, which is not far away, but still provides us with a 12-miler, including the distance from our respective houses to the green. We headed off and soon we were there, unpacking the tea and biscuits and seeking some kind of shelter from the wind.

Andy's bike, Warlingham Green, 16th December 2018. Pic: Andy Smith

There is no cover at St Leonard's unless we stand under the gateway, so it's not an ideal destination in bad weather and not the sort of place to head for in the rain. That said, it's a good 'short ride' and a place I'm sure we'll be visiting again in the future. Not that we haven't been there before: we were there last week, and in the summer it's a great place to be. Prior to last week's ride, I think we've made a couple of visits to this sleepy English churchyard.

The subject, of course, was Brexit and the potential second referendum. We both agreed it was wrong as it would go against democracy, even if remaining in the EU, I said, was the best option for the country. Personally, I think a second referendum would be hilarious, but who knows what will happen? I have a rule and it is this: Think of the worst thing that could happen and that will be what happens. In the past I've predicted that the UK will vote to leave the EU, I've said that the US electorate will vote for Donald Trump AND I said we (the US and the UK) would invade Iraq – all three happened. And now I'm saying we'll leave the EU without a deal – a hard Brexit in other words, mainly because we won't have a second referendum, but Parliament will be unable to agree on the right course of action for the nation. I hope I'm wrong, for a change.

We left the church and headed home, parting at the green and promising to meet, on time, the following morning.

On Sunday morning I'm glad I went out, but I was still a little weary and could have done with a lie in. Still, I got out and when I reached the green I found Andy taking the photograph above. We opted for the slow way to the Bus Stop and en route discussed the lack of time for our rides. In days gone by we seemed to have more time, but now time has closed in; it's as if somebody turns over an hour glass and the sand runs through pretty quickly. We seem to reach our destination, drink our tea, munch our biscuits and then get up and head home. In the old days things seemed far more relaxed, which might have something to do with meeting at 0700hrs rather than 0730hrs. Perhaps that extra 30 minutes made all the difference.

Sunday was warmer than Saturday, but as we headed along Beddlestead Lane Andy's bike slipped and over he went. Black ice on the road. Andy was fine, but when I stopped behind him and placed my feet on the ground, it was very slippy, a bit like walking on an ice rink. Dangerous if any Lycra Monkeys were planning on racing recklessly down the hill, not that we saw many Lycra Monkeys this weekend. There was no ice in the middle of the road so we carried on, carefully, and eventually found ourselves on Clarks Lane. We turned left and free-wheeled the short distance to the bus stop. We didn't talk about Brexit.

On the return trip, Andy and I parted at The Ridge. I followed the off-road path to Warlingham, sailed along the Limpsfield Road and was soon home. I had a bit of a headache and spent the rest of the day lounging about, watching a movie and then making the Sunday roast chicken. I hit the sack around 2200hrs, but woke up just before 0300hrs and found it difficult to get back to sleep. I must have nodded off around 0500hrs and was then woken by my alarm – the sound of birdsong – at 0600hrs. Still sleepy, I reset the alarm for 0635hrs and then got up and made breakfast. It's now Monday morning and time to get ready for work. I've just enjoyed multi-seed porridge with grapes, blueberries, raspberries and sliced banana, plus a mint tea. I'm listening to the Today Programme, on Radio 4, and there's a lot of air time being given to Gaza, they're talking about the Israeli blockade, but who cares? The whole Israeli/Palestine thing is going to run and run, it'll never be solved, a bit like famine in Africa and homelessness here in the UK.

For video of Sunday's ride, including Andy's fall, click here.

To St. Leonard's Church, Chelsham...

Having only cycled once last weekend, I was determined to get out on Saturday. I was up at 0600hrs and noting no abort texts, I had my usual breakfast (porridge and tea) and then headed outside to the garage where I rolled out the bike, jumped on and headed for the green. I thought I was running late and texted Andy to forewarn him, but I was first to reach our meeting point, although Andy was close behind.

We could have gone anywhere, but Andy was short on time so we opted for St. Leonard's church in Chelsham and when we arrived we found a bench and set about the task of drinking tea and, of course, munching biscuits. I keep meaning to stop eating cake and biscuits, but this is probably the wrong time of year to start cutting back on such things; best, perhaps to make it a new year resolution, although I always find that I tend to break any resolutions I make. 

Bikes and tea on a wet bench in the St. Leonard's churchyard. Pic: Andy Smith

We chatted (as we do now and then) about Brexit. What a boring subject! Should there be a second referendum? Well, even though I'm a remainer, my answer is no, there shouldn't be: just remember in future that it's not worth consulting the general public on important matters like our membership of the European Union. And don't consult them on re-introducing the death penalty either, or bringing back the ducking stool or the birch. In essence, we haven't got a clue. Fine, rely on our telephone votes for I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here* and Strictly Come Dancing, but not on big political issues other than General Elections.

Sanderstead green

It's coming round to Christmas and our usual festive rides, although I won't be riding on Christmas Eve this year as, unusually, I'm running out of holiday – normally I take off most of December due to unspent annual leave – but this year I've only got three days left to take. Yes, I could take Christmas Eve, but I'm told we tend to get given a half day anyway, so it would be half a day lost, if you get my drift. But I'll be there for Boxing Day and our traditional ride to Woodmansterne Green, although it's touch and go whether we'll have any cake this year as mum has decided she won't be making any. So it's down to me, basically, and let me tell you: my cake-making skills are pretty good, so if I get around to it, the day might be saved. Hopefully, weather permitting, we'll ride over the weekend prior to Christmas and if Andy's not working in between Christmas and New Year then I'm sure we'll get a ride in. Either way, here's to the traditional NVL Boxing Day ride, we might even see Bon!

* Football manager Harry Redknapp crowned 'King of the Jungle'.