The Capsule...

I've entitled this post The Capsule so I'd better explain myself. It's not really a capsule, or rather it is in my mind, it's a space ship, a silent one. No roaring rockets, no dangerous re-entry procedures, no nothing, just the peace of outer space. In reality it's little more than a room at the back of the house, Max's room. There's a bed, a wardrobe, a table, curtains, a huge picture window, everything you might expect to find in any bedroom, but after dark when things are quiet and I'm feeling sleepy it's a place to go if I want to get a good night's sleep and if I fancy a journey into outer space from where I can see the stars up close. I travel light, it's the best way, but I do take a small digital radio with me, tuned in to BBC Radio 3 and if I board my spaceship around 2300hrs I can catch Night Tracks, a magical programme of music designed for space travellers solo or otherwise. Once airborne and in outer space I press a button and, in addition to being transported into deep space I am treated to some of the most amazing music, sometimes magical, other times miraculous and mesmerising but never maddening or malodorous. When I gaze out of the window I can see two stars which accompany me on my journey and eventually I fall asleep, but the stars are still there in the morning. The stars are streetlights, outer space is the night time and I awake feeling refreshed as the day slowly dawns. The spaceship is only there during the winter months when it's dark around 1600hrs. In the summer it is nothing more than a room with blue curtains and bedroom furniture, just like any other bedroom on the planet, but as winter approaches strange things start to happen and it probably happens in other bedrooms around the world too, but only select people get to experience outer space and glowing stars, even if they're only streetlights. I need to return there soon.

To Tatsfield...

Sergey Rachmaninov's 10 preludes Op. 23 (no 6 in e flat major) as short as it was, started off my Sunday morning breakfast, although, if I'm really honest, it was a boiled egg and soldiers. I'm off on a ride to Tatsfield Village to meet Andy at Sheree's, which is shaping up to be our new venue. It's almost Christmas and I guess the reason is, well, not really festive, but just cosy and friendly. The people who run the place make the whole experience welcoming. The place is festooned with impossible teapots and scented candles and other fripperies; it's also a shop selling newspapers and groceries, but it looks out on to Tatsfield's village green and pond and the whole thing is very English - and the perfect place to chill after a shortish eight-mile ride in the winter air.

As I write, there is around 30 minutes until take-off and I'll be riding the usual route. There is no rain. At least I don't think there is as yesterday's weather forecast had a sunshine icon blazing out from the computer screen, which was extremely heartening. I need sunshine and brightness and so does Andy. We have both experienced loss in recent days: my sister and Andy's wife and I would say for both of us we need distraction and the best diversion, perhaps, is cycling. Andy said he was using cycling to keep his mind intact and I've said many times in previous posts that there's much more to cycling than fitness. It provides time to think and to zone out and deal with the problems life throws our way.

Sheree's Tearooms - a place to take things easy

I've lost my sister and Andy his wife and my thoughts go out to a man who has been selfless, considerate and self-sacrificing. He is a kind, decent and noble human being who right now is having a tough time of it and while grief is a hard one to beat, it can be alleviated. I know that my sister would not have wanted me or anybody else to be unhappy and I'm sure Andy's wife Marcia would be the same. Life goes on as they say and life is for the living, but let's not forget those who have passed, their memories must be kept alive.

Tchaikovsky's Symphony Number Six is breaking the silence as I contemplate the ride ahead. There's around 15 minutes before take-off and soon I must don the fleece and the snood and head out into the garage to find the bike and then head towards Church Way and the hill that will take me to the churchyard and beyond. As I speak church bells are ringing out from the radio and they remind me of my childhood when the bell ringers of St. Philomena's broke the morning silence as I lie in bed awaiting breakfast cooked by dad and it would have been similar to what I've just eaten: a boiled egg and soldiers and tea with the accompaniment of Radio Four's Today Programme coming from dad's tiny transistor radio.

The ride was good, but windy on the outward journey and while I was wearing a heavy fleece and a jumper and tee-shirt, so three layers, it still penetrated and made me wonder if I'd bothered with the jumper. I checked when I reached Sheree's and yes, I had it on. But the weather was good and that hard headwind that had hindered me slightly heading out, was gone for the return journey. I followed the usual route along the 269 and all was well and now I'm home and feeling exercised, which is good.

Andy and I chatted for over an hour over a couple of soya lattes and two pots of mint tea with a couple of Biscoff biscuits thrown in for good measure. Sheree's, we've both realised, is a great place. It lacks the corporate tinge of Costa and it's far more relaxed and friendly. There are no queues for complicated drinks and the vibe is slower and far more cosy than any of the national coffee chains. Remember, you can't beat an independent operator. Andy visited Sheree's on Saturday much to her surprise. "I thought I'd got me dates wrong!," she said, as she normally expects to see us on the Sabbath and that's what's great about this fantastic teashop, they expect to see us! They know we're going to be there and, of course, we are. I asked if she's open on Boxing Day and the answer was no, they're not; had they been we would have been there, but as it is we'll he heading for Westerham and the corporatism that is Costa Coffee.