No cycling this weekend...

... and I suppose it was all my fault; it certainly wasn't Andy's. On Friday night I went out to meet some friends and while I didn't touch any alcohol - for those who don't know, I haven't touched the stuff for around 21 months - I did indulge in some home-made iced tea. It was wonderful, so much so that I had a couple of glasses and enjoyed every last drop. Later, prior to jumping into the car and driving off into the stormy weather that was Friday night, I also enjoyed a cup of normal tea. Again, very nice, but what I had failed to consider was my caffeine intake. For around the same time I've been off the booze, I've also been off the caffeine. I now drink decaff tea, but not on Friday night. Anyway, I reached home around 2330hrs but wasn't feeling in the slightest bit tired or weary. I decided not to go to bed, but to watch a movie, Man Up, with Simon Pegg. No, it's not my type of film at all, but I wanted to see what the director made of an essentially very simple scenario (man goes on blind date with the wrong girl but ends up falling in love). Look, it was fine, let's leave it at that. But I was still buzzing and decided to get on the computer, check things out. By the time I marched upstairs to bed, still wired, it was approaching 0200hrs. I thought it best to abort and did so there and then.

Andy got to Westerham, but I stayed at home...

For some time now, ever since returning from Dusseldorf, I've had a sore throat and a dry cough. The sore throat was initially very unpleasant and the cough was also not very nice, but they've both persisted. In the middle of the night, just after midnight, I awoke with a coughing fit. In the end I had to get out of bed and head downstairs to make some tea (this time decaff). I turned on the computer, checked out the BBC website (Iran had seized a British ship in the Middle East) and killed time until I'd finished my tea. I thought about aborting, but decided not to. Best, perhaps, to see how I felt in the morning. My alarm went off at 0600hrs and I wasn't feeling good at all. I decided to abort and climb back into bed, eventually falling asleep and then waking around 0900hrs. I needed the sleep, put it that way, but, as usual, the weather was fantastic and I missed out on a ride. Andy posted a photo on Twitter: he'd gone to Westerham, where I was planning on going had I gone out. Anyway, you can't cry over spilt milk, as my mum says. Well, you can, it's just pointless. So I painted the side gate and sat in the garden catching a few rays and didn't really do much all day. I'm under the weather, feeling weary and it's not good.

I slobbed around all day after finishing the gate. I sat in the garden reading the Rough Guide to Cult Fiction, a great read. I've done the crossword (nothing too challenging, just the Waitrose Weekend magazine) and the only clue I didn't get was the name for a baby salmon. Any clues?

Here's to next week's ride.