New Year's Eve and I bump into Bill Wyman in a caff on the King's Road...

There is a saying that goes something like 'never meet your heroes', but sometimes you simply can't help it. Having engaged in a spot of shopping in Peter Jones I found myself wandering down the King's Road in Chelsea, en route to a place called Gail's, a small, but perfectly formed, cafe. As I walked in, I stepped aside to let somebody out and that person just so happened to be the former Rolling Stone, Bill Wyman.

Bill Wyman, what a guy!

The trouble with meeting your heroes, of course, is that you never know what to say to them until it's too late. I said I'd been reading a book about the Rolling Stones, to which he replied 'which one?' and I mentioned this large coffee table book round at my sister's house in Carshalton. I forgot to mention the book 1971 by David Hepworth in which the Rolling Stones' move to France (to become 'tax exiles') was discussed alongside the band's decision to set up its own label, release Brown Sugar and, in Mick Jagger's case, get married to Bianca Jagger, but there was no time.

Wyman, now 83, and the oldest member of the Rolling Stones (he left in the early 90s) lives in Gedding Hall near Bury St Edmund's in Suffolk, but I'm guessing he has a place in central London too as I can't imagine him driving home to East Anglia tonight.

What a guy! "Pleasure meeting you, Bill," I said and we parted company.

New Year's Eve - to Woodmansterne Green!

Everything is damp and dripping. The roads are wet and I decided to ride to Woodmansterne Green to see Bon. I packed a flask of hot water, four teabags and two mugs and left around 0740hrs, riding through Purley, along Foxley Lane and towards Carshalton's lavender fields where I turned left and rode up the hill towards the green.

Library image of Woodmansterne Green as my iphone lost power (again)

Bon was cycling down the road to meet me and turned when he spotted me. We set up camp on Jean Merrington's wooden bench that surrounds a tree, which was probably planted to commemorate her life, I don't know, but there are lots of benches on Woodmansterne Green devoted to the memories of local residents, like Joyce Lowther (1914 to 1994). It's all a bit depressing, especially when you add the dampness of the grass and the grey sheen of the skies.

We drank tea and chatted and talked about a possible ride on New Year's Day and then said our goodbyes. I cycled back the way I came, although I could have cycled into Coulsdon and then along the Brighton Road into Croydon. I stuck with the more familiar route that eventually took me back into Foxley Lane.

There's a kind of expectancy about New Year's Eve that I'm not comfortable with. Everything is still in anticipation of what? New Year, of course! Later there will be countdowns and then it will dawn on everybody that nothing has changed and they've got to go to work and make New Year resolutions to cut out this and to start exercising and it goes without saying that the capitalists will be exploiting the situation. Don't be fooled into starting up a gym membership, buy a push bike instead, far better value in my humble opinion.

I'm sitting in my conservatory looking out on the back garden. There's a pile of old branches on the lawn that need to be burnt or put away somewhere, but it won't be done today. It's a job that is staring me in the face and will continue to do so until I get out there and fix it. The futility of gardening springs to mind, but I'm not going there, not today.

I rode around 12 miles today and I'm planning a six-mile walk this evening, so I'm keeping things moving. If I did make a New Year resolution it would be to cut out biscuits and chocolates, but I think the best policy is to keep any promises to myself as once people know they pile on the pressure in both directions: there will be cake offered by some while others will goad me for not sticking to my guns. Information is power and it's best kept away from those who don't have your best interests at heart. Who does have your best interests at heart? Not many.