Lockdown, Part 18: A bike = freedom

Not sure how I would survive without a bicycle. Ever since the lockdown I've been riding daily, albeit alone, starting off with 36 miles per week, which seems like an age ago, and now I'm on 100 miles per week, or I will be when I've completed tomorrow's ride to Botley Hill. Over the weekend I rode to Westerham twice (today and yesterday), that's 44 miles in total. On Saturday the weather was wonderful and, by sheer chance, I met Andy en route. We haven't cycled together since 22 March. He was coming from the Lakes, a place we haven't been to together for a very long time, possibly not since April 2011, and a place where, for some odd reason, we tend to visit alone. We stopped and chatted (from a distance) for about 10 minutes and both said we looked forward to when normality returns; and then Andy continued up the hill towards Botley and I sailed down into Westerham. When I arrived I found a bench and sat there in the warm sunshine drinking liquorice and spearmint tea, perfect. So perfect I had two cups before heading home. When I got back I felt great, especially after a shower late in the afternoon. It's that lovely tired feeling you get after a decent bout of exercise, you simply can't beat it.

Tudor Rose was closed...

I stayed up late Saturday night and finished off Season Three of Ozark. It was amazing, pure and simple, and I can't wait for Season Four next year. The great thing about finishing Season Three is that I'll be able to hit the sack early tonight and feel fresh tomorrow. On Friday last week and, indeed, many other days prior, late nights because of watching Ozark had become a regular occurrence, which was fine at the weekends, but not during the week. I'm now back to the X Files, or I will be tonight.

This morning, at roughly the same time as yesterday, I headed for Westerham again. There was a 30% chance of rain according to my iphone's weather app and sure enough I got some, not too much, but a light shower. The rain started when I reached the green and as a result I had to seek shelter under an awning. There was hardly anybody around, just me, a few passers-by, one person walking his black labrador, a woman pulling what seemed to be a shopping trolley full of cups and saucers (that's what it sounded like) and another kind of 'mutton dressed as lamb' woman who went to and fro a couple of times.

My bike on the green

It takes roughly an hour for me to reach home from Westerham, but I think I managed it in about 55 minutes today, which ain't bad going when you consider that half of the return journey is uphill, until I reach Botley when I have the straight and long 269 to contend with, although in these times of lockdown, it's not too bad as the traffic is light.

Sir Winston taking it easy...

Once I reached home there were sausages and scrambled egg for lunch, cooked by yours truly, and since then I've done nothing other than mess around and fall asleep and chat and now I'm looking out at the garden from the 'conservatory' at a hawthorn tree in full bloom, at a relatively decent-looking lawn and at a grey and darkening sky. Everything is still.

There's talk of the lockdown being lifted slightly, which I'm not sure about, although I guess it'll be a step in the right direction. The last thing we want is a relapse, a second wave of infections that sends us back to purgatory; but as you know, I'm not finding it that bad. I won't go on about it as I'm sure there are many people struggling being stuck in the house.