The bad weather continues...

I'm seriously considering taking up another sport, one that is sheltered from the weather. I can't stand going to the gym so it won't be that and it looks, therefore, as is swimming might be coming back, although the cost of living crisis means that some local authority pools, I am told, will be closing to save money. It's been almost one month (bar a recent ride with Andy on Boxing Day) since I've been out on the bike and it's all down to bad weather, extreme cold in the main, but now it's rain and it doesn't matter how much waterproof clothing I buy, the key is that riding in the rain isn't much fun, let's face it, so why bother? Going into the garage to use a turbo trainer simply doesn't appeal and I don't have the spare cash to purchase a stationary bike, which, arguably, would solve the problem, but I've been there before and would rather go for a proper ride on the roads and country lanes. 

Westerham, Boxing Day morning...

Today, Saturday (New Year's Eve) I had planned a ride to Oxted, like in the good old days, but that was scuppered early this morning as I lay in bed listening to the howling wind and then waking to discover that it was also raining. It's all extremely depressing because all I appear to be doing is sitting around waiting to go to work. Today, being Saturday, is almost 'back to normal' inasmuch as I'll be going to work next week. Now, it's as if I have Monday off and that's it; and to top it all there are train strikes EVERY DAY of next week. There's little more to say other than I am rather pissed off. I feel like time is passing by very quickly and I'm getting nowhere, all the landmark dates come and go: Halloween, Guy Fawkes Night (what happened to that this year?) mum's birthday, my birthday, Christmas and soon New Year's Day - arguably the most depressing day of the entire year as people wake up, hung over and realise that it's the same old shit, just a different day and all they have to show for it is a headache. Throw in a large amount of absolutely rubbish television (largely repeats produced at a time when things were better) and a general feeling of pointlessness and you'll have some idea of how I feel right now. Depressed. And now, as the clock is being rewound, only to be unwound slowly over the next 12 months, it's more of the same: Putin, train strikes, crap Government, COVID, the cost of living crisis and everything else. In short, there is nothing to look forward to except for shite.

Westerham, Boxing Day 2022...

I'm glad that Andy and I managed to ride to Westerham on Boxing Day as the festive ride is a NoVisibleLycra tradition that we try our best to uphold. I was noticeably out of condition having not riden the bike for a least three weeks but I somehow managed to get there bang on 0900hrs before Costa even opened its doors. Andy's bought a new bike and he rode it to Westerham. It's a nice bike with some parts built to spec, ie narrower handlebars and different wheels to what would have been on the original bike. Andy ordered a black coffee and a toasted teacake, I ordered an English breakfast tea and a toasted teacake, but no jam, just butter (Andy ordered just jam). 

Our bikes outside of Costa Coffee

As always, I eat a lot of crap over Christmas and, as always, I start to make up resolutions for the new year, like 'no more crap food', 'no more bread, no more chocolate, cake and so on' and then, of course, I break them. Perhaps it's best to say nothing and just try not to eat too badly. What I need more than anything, however, is exercise, but the weather is so piss poor even a walk is out of the question.

And now I sit here at the dining table looking over at a Christmas tree that will soon be dumped unceremoniously in the back garden awaiting being chopped up and placed in bits in the brown plastic wheelie bin that is currently residing on the front drive. All the decorations that seemingly only went up a few days ago will have to be packed away until next year and then all that's left is to sit and wonder at the anti-climax of it all and why people cram into supermarkets as if we're all expecting some kind of calamity that will leave us all without food when the reality is that Christmas Day is just one day and that on Boxing Day we'll all be able to go out and buy food again. What's even more annoying is that this year I noticed the big stores like John Lewis did their patronising Christmas ads as usual, inviting everybody to go out and spend a fortune, and then, the very same store advertised its sale, meaning that if people had just waited a few days they could have got whatever they bought for half the price they paid a day or two earlier. Again, I found myself wishing that we were not so gullible. Imagine if we all simply said no and didn't bother doing any Christmas shopping until the sales, that would be hilarious, playing them at their own game. But no, we won't, we'll simply carry on like we always do and then go to the sales too. I couldn't believe that I was in a shopping centre in Tunbridge Wells yesterday afternoon looking, but not buying anything (although somebody I was with bought a coat). It's all horrible and I found myself thinking of Guy Debord and a book I really ought to buy, The Society of the Spectacle. Perhaps next year.

Slapstick follows me everywhere!

Wherever I go, slapstick follows me. Something as simple as fixing a puncture! First, off comes the wheel, the rear wheel, now that's a shit show in itself, but off it comes and I figure I'll remember how to get it back on later. Thanks to Halfords no longer selling 'leeches' I'm forced to use 'Scabs'. Horrible things! First, how the fuck do you get them out? Virtually impossible, but the other day, when I first fixed the very same puncture, I managed it... only to discover that I had a flat tyre the very next day. Cold weather kept me out of the garage, away from the bike and in the warm for the next God knows how long, easily over a week. But now the decent weather has returned. Decent? Well, yes, by comparision. So I'm out there again today, the wheel comes off and this time I place the inner tube into a bowl of hot water to check whether or not I had more than one puncture. It turns out to be the same one. Bubbles escaped from underneath the 'scab' proving to me that the scabs are rubbish. I tried placing another scab on the area where the bubbles were escaping from, but no good. This meant just one thing: I'd have to buy a new inner tube and while at it also buy a new tyre and inner tube: £24 the lot from Halfords. And I'm back in the room! Well, the garage, armed with a new tyre and a new inner tube. The tyre's fine and so is the inner tube, just a case of getting it out of the plastic packaging. I know! I'll break a hole in the plastic with a small key on my keyring. But where is my key ring? It must be in my coat which is hanging off the back of the lawnmower. I check. Nope, not there. I must have left it on a shelf somewhere. Nope. In the garage door? Nope. Well, it can't be indoors as I used it to open the garage. I then spend the next half an hour searching the garage, but without success. Where is it? I start to imagine myself sheltering in the garage, unable to pick up my family from the railway station because I don't have my keys. What amazes me is this: I checked my coat thoroughly, every pocket, and it wasn't there, but then on checking it a second time, it's there. Ridiculous. So I go back into the house and using a knife from the draw in the kitchen I open the packaging and then head back into the garage. All I have to do now is put the tyre on the wheel and then the new inner tube inside it. It took an age to prise the tyre on to wheel and then I spent an inordinate amount of time stuffing the inner tube inside the tyre. Once I'd completed the task I then noticed that some of the tyre bulged out when I pumped it up so I had to deflate the tyre and mess around until it all went back without bulges. I pumped it up and managed (unusually) to get the wheel back on the frame. Thank the Lord! Seriously! Thank. The. Lord. I closed up the garage and then decided it was time for a walk, albeit a brief one, to Coco & Nut, my favourite coffee shop (it's about 10 minutes away). I ordered a cappuccino and a toasted chicken and pesto sandwich and then sat there reading for around half an hour or so. After a while I realised it was time to go. I was just glad that this time I got a table. The last time I walked here (on the slippery icy pathways) I was cheesed off to discover that the place was full-to-bursting (no seats at all). I could have sat outside, but it was cold so I didn't bother. I simply trudged home, book in rucksack untouched.

Icy roads en route to an indie coffee shop last week, far easier today!

Today, however, has been good. Once I'd completed a few tasks, one involving the aforementioned puncture, the other taking a faulty product back to IKEA, I decided to listen to music and found, completely by accident, a band called Husker Du, an American rock/punk band who have since disbanded, but not before releasing a number of amazing albums during the 80s. I'm amazed I'd never heard of them before, but there you go. So I've been listening the Husker Du and Judas Priest and the Pixies (Debaser) on a continuous loop almost until I was told no more. I get that totally. While I could listen to Debaser over and over and over again, I appreciate that it's not to everybody's taste and I had a good run so I was happy to switch it off and watch a bit of Dad's Army. I think that I'm at last managing to chill out, ie come down from the stress of working. I'm so glad I had holiday to take off otherwise I'd be at work all this week. As it happens I'm not.

I'm hoping to get out on the bike tomorrow. I'm hoping that when I open the garage door I won't find another puncture. The inner tube I've bought is one of those slime-based products that fix the puncture automatically when it happens. Let's hope, that's all I can say. I'm planning a much-needed ride to Oxted. The new tyre is pretty basic, but it does the trick and it's got more tread on it than the one I've taken off.

The cold weather continues...and there's no cycling

 I'm starting to wonder when I last went out on the bike. I think it was a ride to Tatsfield to meet Andy on a Sunday, probably not last Sunday but the week before. The weather was, if I recall, relatively fine and, as those who read this blog will know, I sat there and indulged myself with a pot of tea and a large slice of coffee and walnut cake. Since then I've done nothing, no cycling whatsoever, and for good reason. Suddenly the weather changed, plummeted to be more precise, into the depths of arctic temperatures and all that goes with them: frosted windscreens, slippery roads, even more slippery pavements, delayed trains, everything unpleasant that you can think of. 

Snow outside the house... it's going, but slowly...

Last weekend I fixed the puncture that led to me walking five miles home because it was just too cold to fix it by the roadside. So, going back to the previous paragraph where I say the weather was 'relatively fine' it clearly wasn't that good. Yesterday I went into the garage and lo and behold, the puncture I thought I'd fixed was not fixed, it was as flat as a pancake; either the fixed puncture wasn't done properly or there was more than one puncture. The one I fixed was bad enough, it was like a tear in the fabric of the inner tube. Perhaps that's it, it's simply unfixable and I'll need a new inner tube... and while I'm at it a new tyre.

I've had no exercise since that ride with Andy, apart from some walks, and while I have considered swimming, it's just too cold. Everything is turning to shit basically and throw in Christmas and all the shite that lands on the table in the office kitchen and, well, I might as well give the bike away and become a fat bastard.

Frozen Sanderstead lake last weekend...

There's one week to go before Christmas and I'm glad to hear that retail sales are down, all those greedy bastards, especially the supermarkets, with their television ads designed to pull at the heart strings, were all a big waste of time as people simply don't have the money, so stop advertising to us, we don't care about what you have on your shelves, we don't want it and, what's more, we don't need it.

People ask me what I want for Christmas and I don't really have an answer because I simply don't know. I have everything I need, although I do hate it when people ask if I'd like socks. No, fuck off! I don't want socks! I can buy them whenever I need them; alright, I need them, but that's not a Christmas present is it? 

"Oh, what did you get for Christmas?"

"Socks."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

I'd rather have nothing than have socks for Christmas.

We've done a bit of Christmas shopping, which I hate with a vengeance, milling around with all the greedy bastards who clasp loads of branded carrier bags in both hands and for what? Oh, yes, just so a few days later they can say "Right, we need to talk about the money, we're currently £400 overdrawn and we've got, er...six weeks to go before pay day." Just the sort of thing I don't want to hear. Personally I'd rather cancel Christmas than be in debt. But then it's not really Christmas is it? No, it's an excuse for big business to make even more profit than they do throughout the rest of the year. I'd love Christmas to be like it used to be, with people not knowing what they're getting, but it's not. These days it's "Well, you buy it and then we'll wrap it up and put it under the tree." So when it comes to the big day I open something that I already know about and so does everybody else. Oh for a desolate cottage on the Isle of Harris, a roaring log fire and no sign of the greed found further south, just the sea and the hills and perhaps an exchange of Christmas cards, a bracing walk to a local pub for lunch and then an afternoon spent in front of the fire eating festive delicacies.

Bleak...

It's now Sunday 18th December and while I think the weather has warmed up a little bit, the snow is still on the ground and I'm guessing it's still cold out there as the cars still have frosted windscreens. I won't be riding today and nor will Andy. We're both busy for a start, then there's my as yet unfixed puncture, the possibility of rain (although I'd love to try out my new waterproof trousers and shoes) and, of course, the fact that it's still cold and icy out there. At some stage I'll fix the puncture. I reckon I've got two of them, not just one, but who knows? Not me until I get out there.

Last night I watched the Strictly Come Dancing final and Hamza won it, just like I thought he would. I also watched JK Rowling's Strike, which I really like. Then I fell asleep and when I awoke it was gone midnight. I got up around 0700hrs, made breakfast of porridge and chopped oranges, not forgetting a cup of tea and a glass of water and now I'm about to get on with the rest of my day.

The cold weather has arrived...

The weather has taken a turn for the worse and I start to wonder if it's worth a bet on a white Christmas. It's never worth betting on a White Christmas. It's cold. Very cold. And I keep finding myself standing on cold railway station platforms with nowhere to go. And by that I mean nowhere to sit and read or drink tea while I wait for my train. It's the same everywhere. Network Rail seem to have a policy stating that waiting rooms are old hat and if they exist they must be unwelcoming and uncomfortable. Why can't railway stations be a bit more like in the movie Brief Encounter? I want a roaring log fire. To be fair, there are some that sport modern leather sofas (I'm thinking of Purley and Merstham and I'm sure there are others) but steer clear, well clear, of Redhill and East Croydon, they're awful and I'm guessing there's some evil thought behind it, like "make it uncomfortable for the bastards". And when it's cold, of course, the whole thing is a nightmare as I end up pacing up and down the platform, killing time in the cold and the dark.

Heavy fog close to Botley Hill recently

It's so cold out there that I can't be bothered to go into the garage and fix my rear wheel puncture (see previous post) even if I need to get out there and do it as tomorrow is Saturday and my weekly ride to Oxted beckons. That said, there's a electric 'coal effect' fireplace out there with a convector heater underneath. I might switch that on and get it done. My rear wheel is a bit dodgy. For the first time ever in my cycling career (not that I have a cycling career) the rear wheel has come away from the frame TWICE! Andy says it just needs to be tightened up properly (he's probably right) but I can't help but think it's more than that, ie it's faulty in some way, but I'll take Andy's more optimistic assessment of the situation.

Andy, quite understandably, is a little wary of the cold weather. I say 'understandably' because he's not like Phil who simply doesn't like the cold, Andy's wary because of what happened to him earlier in the year (he came off on black ice and broke his hip). Last week we met later than normal at Tatsfield Village, giving the weather time to heat up the tarmac so that all would be well (again, see previous post). Tatsfield is a good place to go as it's not too far away, but far enough to be a decent ride. In terms of degrees, Tatsfield is in the number two position in terms of shorter rides, the number one spot going to a ride to Botley Hill (roughly 14 miles). Tatsfield is around 16 miles and there's a decent cafe there too, unlike...well, actually, not unlike Botley Hill, which now has a tearoom at the Botley Hill Farmhouse. In fact, all of our rides are now adequately catered for by decent caffs and, as I was saying to Andy in Tatsfield last Sunday, we've certainly upped our game from the days when we used to sit out in the cold, sheltered by a wooden bus stop, sipping tea from a flask and munching on a couple of Belvita biscuits. It's quite weird thinking back to those days of shivering in the frost, rain and sleet, watching the rain sweep in or the fog shrouding the bare trees. Not any more! We much prefer our tea in a pot, on a tray and accompanied by a slice of cake. It means, of course, that we're now spending money, roughly a fiver for tea or coffee and an almond croissant. I used to put four teabags into a small tupperware container, fill up a flask with hot water and a smaller bottle with milk and then put the lot in a rucksack and head off in the cold to wherever we were heading. We'd meet at Warlingham Green and then ride off on the 269. Today we meet at the destination. Our old meeting place is still there, but we pass it by (or I do, Andy goes a different way). In all honesty, it's better. Far better than shivering in the cold wishing for the summer to return.

Looking out at my parked bike from Oxted's Caffe Nero

The key to success in the cold is to wrap up warm. Last Sunday I think I had four jumpers on. All I need to add is a balaclava and that's me sorted, as long as I'm wearing gloves. I wear a beanie hat under the helmet, plenty of layers, gloves and a balaclava (it'll be out this weekend, rest assured of that) and then I'm fine in the cold. Andy and I ride throughout the year and while I've stopped riding to work because of the dark and the need to be extra wary of bad drivers, I'm busy thinking of ways of keeping up the exercise I'm losing. It's looking as if I'll be swimming. Yesterday I checked out the local leisure centre in Redhill and the pool is empty at lunch times. I reckon I can get there, change, swim and change again within the hour if I simply swim 20 lengths of the 25-metre pool. It's just over a fiver a swim and my aim would be to swim twice a week. Let's see. The problem with swimming in the cold weather is finding the motivation to go. I used to swim a lot, ie three times a week: two half-milers and then a one-miler at the weekend. I always feel amazing after a swim so hopefully I'll pluck up that much-needed motivation and get on with keeping fit.

Oxted and Tatsfield...and I'm still munching the cakes!

Friday week ago – so that's not the Friday just gone (2nd December) but the Friday before (24 November) I rode to Tatsfield Village. I stopped off at Sheree's Tearoom and enjoyed a pot of tea and a Twix, sitting in an easy chair. The other tables were taken up by old ladies, although I'm sure they'd hate to be described in such a way. They weren't 'old old' ladies, this wasn't the territory of the blue rinse and the walking stick, but let's just say these were people who were most likely post-menopausal, comfortably off and enjoying themselves. Well-heeled pensioners talking about visiting garden centres and Christmas shopping. Because we're in festive territory now, it's almost Christmas and once again I'm amazed at how the time-travelling train is racing through stations like 'Guy Fawkes' Night', 'Mum's Birthday' and soon, of course, my birthday... and then it's Christmas. Time is flying again and soon it will be 2023. So I'm sitting in Sheree's having tea and a Twix. I had just completed around eight miles of the 16-mile ride and sitting there with tea and a chocolate bar was my idea of fun, even if I really ought to slow down on the sweets and cake front. That said, I'm always moaning about how much crap I'm eating, but I'm not doing anything about it. I will some day change my eating habits, but these things come in cycles (if you'll forgive the pun). I've just got to control myself, it's as simple as that. It was a good ride and I'm glad I did it as my cycling has been a little touch and go of late. Rain has stopped Andy and I from meeting in Westerham for the past three to four weeks. I've been riding on Saturdays to Oxted and, by and large, I've been riding twice a week, although sometimes that's fallen to just one ride. I've decided to start my cycling week on a Saturday from now onwards, meaning that I get two rides in immediately (if that makes sense) ie, Saturday and Sunday. In the past my cycling week has started on Sunday, meaning that, to get two rides in, I have to ride Sunday and then the following Saturday. Anyway, it's all clutching at straws. After my ride to Tatsfield I rode to Oxted on Saturday and did what I always do in Oxted: sit in Caffe Nero reading and drinking either tea of coffee.

Sheree's in Tatsfield, Friday 25 November 2022...

The following week (that's 3rd and 4th December) - last weekend in other words - I rode to Oxted on Saturday even if I had considered Malabar (it's a coffee shop in Riverhead). The plan was to get a 'big ride' under my hat, a 34-miler no less, but when push came to shove I opted for Oxted and a ride down White Lane. Actually, I forgot to mention that last week when I rode to Oxted I decided on the return ride to climb up White Lane. I started on Titsey Hill but then turned right into White Lane and off I went. I managed to reach the top without stopping and I felt quite good when I reached the top. On the Malabar front, the reality was that I couldn't face the long ride in the cold, because it was cold. And I figured it best to hole up in a coffee shop closer to home. I opted for the Costa as opposed to my usual choice (that of Caffe Nero) and the only reason was to try something different. I say 'different' but to be honest, I visit Costa most Sundays with Andy so it's not as if I'm unfamiliar with the brand. Furthermore, I have a Costa card so I thought I'd use it. I ordered a medium cappuccino and an almond croissant (despite promising myself that I wouldn't order any food). I sat there for some time, reading and chilling and then I reluctantly headed out into the cold weather. It was cold riding down the High Street and remained cold as I headed up Titsey Hill, resisting the temptation to ride up White Lane. A car drove too close, which annoyed me (it always does) and soon I found myself at Botley Hill.

Tea and Twix at Sheree's, 25 Nov...

At the moment I'm taking Fridays off to use up holiday I would otherwise lose. It means that I often wake up on Sunday thinking it's Monday when it isn't. Sunday, of course, is when I ride to Westerham to see Andy and, as I mentioned earlier, it's been three or four weeks since we met, thanks to driving rain. Andy's not keen on the cold and for good reason: he doesn't want to come off on black ice as the last time he came a cropper he broke his hip. As for me? Well, I don't like the rain. I hate it. So Sundays have been off the agenda completely. But this week there was no rain. None at all, so we headed not to Westerham but to Tatsfield and later than usual; we met at 0930 in Sheree's and I weakened when I saw the coffee and walnut cake. To be fair, Andy would have had a slice too, but when he asked if the cake was vegan (and was told it wasn't) he passed...and I sat there scoffing alone (and feeling guilty about it too). After a good old chat it was time to go home, Andy to Caterham and me to Sanderstead. But on the way back, when I reached Warlingham, I noticed a rear wobble and yes, you got it, I had a puncture. It was too cold to fix by the roadside so I knucked down for a five-mile walk, pushing the bike alongside me. So, a 12.5-mile ride and a five-mile walk, not bad going. The bike's now in the garage and needs to be fixed... and it will be before next week's rides.

The top of White Lane...a piece of cake!

And here's a real piece of cake, at Sheree's, 4th December 2022

At this point I had a rear wheel puncture and walked home

I love this, in Limpsfield Village before Titsey Hill beckons...