A strange dream last night and very vivid. I was in the house of a very rich person and was engaged in some kind of game, I'm not exactly sure, but we were in a large space with a glass roof, possibly a very big conservatory and we were in what must have been water that was covered with white rose petals, up to our necks in it; I say 'we' because I was not alone. Sir Richard Branson was one of the guests and so was veteran newsman Harold Evans, plus myself and I can't recall anybody else. I was intrigued about Evans' presence, not because he's dead, but because there was a connection between him and my father and I wanted to ask him if he remembered dad. I never got the chance. Branson, incidentally, must have been fully submerged in the water because he broke the surface with a toothy smile and then we all sort of sat there not really saying a great deal. The next scene was outside somewhere, presumably in the grounds of the huge house in which this strange situation took place. I was walking along, possibly crossing a bridge over water or even simply walking along a concrete path bordered by a low wall behind which there was water, possibly a lake of some sort. Robert de Niro was leaning against the wall, but just before we engaged with one another a man started to attempt tripping me up from behind. He didn't succeed, but at one point he grabbed me by the short and curlies, said something offensive and then moved on. He was an older man with broad shoulders and farmers' clothes, a brown jacket, possibly corduroy trousers, the details are sketchy, but he passed by and soon I was telling Robert de Niro what had happened, pointing the man out as he strode away from us and disappeared. We walked in the man's direction, not with any intention of chasing him. We turned right and I heard myself saying, "So, how's it all going on the sartorial elegance front?" A strange question to ask, but one he answered without hesitation. He said he was fine and had seemingly taken my advice, but what I might have advised him I simply don't know. When he had gone I found myself approaching a young woman who I mistook for Harold Evans' wife, but she was far too young for that and pointed me elsewhere. Once again, my true aim was to ask Evans if he remembered my dad and I probably thought that by finding his wife I might stand a chance, but it wasn't to be. Lastly, prior to waking up, I was somewhere else and while something was going on, I can't remember exactly what. It was 0600hrs, it was raining outside (or about to) and a day of work lay ahead of me.
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| Tea and cake, Tudor Rose, Westerham |
I'd had a fairly good week on the bike, unlike the previous week when I did absolutely no cycling, apart from the Sunday ride with Andy. Why I don't know, but after my jab on Thursday (not last week, the week before) I felt a little weary and didn't even go last Saturday, so my weekly total was something like 22 miles or thereabouts. This past week, however, has been far better. On the Sunday just past (13 June) I rode into to Westerham to meet Andy. We sat on the green as usual, chatted about this and that, watched a few Harley Davidsons roll by and then rode home, parting at the top of Slines Oak Road in Woldingham. I then rode down the hill, up the other side and home. Fortunately I was motivated enough on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday to ride three Washpond Weebles, but on Thursday there was rain, loads of it, all day long, and more is promised according to the weather people. I would like to ride today, Friday (18 June) and then again on Saturday (19 June), but my current total is just under 60 miles so even if I don't ride today and manage to get a ride in on Saturday, my weekly total will hover over 80 miles, which is a result. Right now it's looking pretty gloomy out there, in fact it's raining now, I can hear it, so a ride today is probably out of the question, which is a shame. Yesterday I was seriously considering a ride. I went out on to the driveway and there was a lovely smell of rain in the air. Fortunately, I decided not to ride and no sooner had I made that decision it started to rain, just like it is right now. There are those who will say it's good for the garden and perhaps they're right, but sod the garden I want to ride my bike. It is Friday 18 June 2021 and as I say, it's not been a bad week for cycling and it's not over yet; if today's a wash-out, there's always tomorrow and I think it'll fine on Saturday, but the weather will deteriorate as the day progresses, or so they say. I might still get to eat cake and drink English breakfast tea on the green at Westerham, but whether Andy and I will be meeting on Sunday (20 June) I don't know. We will see.
So it's now Saturday morning as I write this and everything is dull and still and it's looking as if it'll rain at any moment, although the weather people are still saying it will be cloudy, no rain, not until later in the day, or possibly overnight. It's 0739hrs and I'm planning to hit the road around 0800hrs. My iPhone says a mixture of cloud and sunshine today, certainly until lunch time, which means if I'm quick I could get myself down to Westerham and score a quick 22 miles, which would bring my total this week to just over 80 miles, not bad going, but let's see.
Well, it's now 1220hrs on Saturday morning and I've not long returned from a ride to Westerham, which was fantastic. Alright, it was cloudy, but it wasn't cold and while on the outward journey there was a fine shower of drizzle for a short while, I sailed along Beddlestead Lane and down Clarks Lane, turning left into Pilgrims Lane, passing the Velo Barn and then riding into Westerham where I found the Tudor Rose Tearooms. I sat inside, ordered tea and a slice of coffee & walnut cake, which could have been a little fresher, but it did the job, and soon I found myself back on the bike riding home. I decided to follow The Ridge into Woldingham, braced myself for the steep hill at the end of Slines Oak Road and then turned left on to the B269 and headed home. In total this week I rode 84.75 miles, a vast improvement on last week's 22 miles, and right now I feel good and I'm looking forward to a drive to Chartwell, which is just outside of Westerham, so I'll be retracing some of this morning's ride in the car.
The Westerham ride was fantastic as everything is in bloom. As I rode along Beddlestead the cow parsley was tipped with teardrops of rain and as that fine drizzle fell to the ground quietly, as only drizzle can do, I embraced the moment, the misty air, the warmth of a summer morning, the tweeting of the birds in the hedgerows, what was not to like, I thought, as I pedalled along looking forward to seeing the mobile phone mast that signifies the near end of Beddlestead Lane and the refreshing downhill ride towards Pilgrims Lane. I really hope that rain doesn't stop play tomorrow (Sunday 20 June) as I'm looking forward to meeting Andy on the green in Westerham* for our weekly chinwag.
* We met in Tatsfield village.
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