Too weak to resist biscuits, cakes and cappuccinos...but I've been on the trim wheel!

I've been sleeping well and I put it down to Celestial tea, which I purchased back in May at a CVS in Detroit. I included in my purchase some Sleepy Time tea (known by me as Sleepy Time Bear tea because there's an illustration of a bear sitting in front of a real fire making himself cosy and warm). Not that you'd want to be 'cosy and warm' on a summer's day. Anyhow I bought the tea and I've almost finished the lot. The Sleepy Time Bear tea ran out about three to four weeks ago (I used to have one around 2200hrs and then hit the sack - and it worked!) Then there was a box of Celestial tea, a kind of assortment pack including a few sachets of Sleepy Time Bear and now they've gone except for around two, possibly three camomile teas (which are really potent). These past few weeks I've been sleeping well. Hitting the sack around 2300hrs and not waking up until around 0600hrs. That's good enough for me; an unbroken sleep, that's what counts, and it makes me feel better generally. So I'm going to buy some more of these great teas. Yeah, I know, I could simply go to the supermarket and buy some Pukka teas, but they're not as good and now I'm of the opinion that stuff in the US (and I'll include over-the-counter drugs like Nurofen and other painkillers) is a little more potent, a bit stronger than what you get over here. Anyway, that's for later on. I'll sneak on to Amazon and load up with Sleepy Time Bear teas. I might also get myself some of the camomile tea as it's great and there's nowt better than getting a good night's sleep.

"Number three crop, please!"

I woke up this morning around 0600hrs and then must have drifted off again because I awoke again around 0649hrs. Alright, that 0649 was such a precise time that I'll admit the word 'around' doesn't come into it, not one bit. I woke up at 0649hrs. The only way 'around' could have come into would have been if I awoke 'around' 0650hrs. You can be vague and precise at the same time, it's either around 0650 or it's bang on the nail 'I woke up at 0649hrs', one minute before 0650hrs. How much more precise would you want me to be?

I'll admit that sometimes when I wake up and make my way downstairs to the kitchen that I start to want some kind of change. I think it's the breakfast I eat. Every morning I have the same thing and sometimes I can't face it: Alpen with sliced bananas, a mug of tea (either green or black), an orange cut into segments, a glass of warm water and two slices of bread and marmalade (or honey). My big problem at present is bread. I've gone from eating three slices a day to eight: two in the morning, two with sandwiches at lunch time, two when I get in from work and possibly another two if I'm still feeling hungry. At the moment I seem to be hungry all the time, so much so that in addition to my sandwiches, grapes and an apple at noon, I then go out and have a large English breakfast tea and two ginger biscuits in Costa or...a large (albeit 'regular') cappuccino and a slice of carrot cake with orange icing in Busy Beans (an artisan coffee shop). Then there's always the M&S cafe where a cappuccino and an iced bun always go well together. And let's not forget the caff where I go for a cup of tea if it's raining and this week it has rained a bit so the walk was cancelled and the Pop Inn came into play. Sometimes, in addition to the mug of tea I might have a slice or two of toast with marmalade, but not this week, it was just the tea. And just when I thought it was safe to go back in the water, what about those Grenade bars? What about them? Well, first there's the cost, which varies depending on where you buy them, they appear to range from £2.85 to £3.00 per bar but they certainly do the trick. Eat one of them and your hunger will disappear. On one day last week I had a custard Danish instead of the Grenade and ever since I've been trying to work out what is best, the pastry or the Grenade? Certainly where cost is concerned, the pastry (at £1) is best, but you know what? I prefer the Grenade even if I could have three pastries for the price of one Grenade.

Coughlans Oxted... it's not a bad place. Note bike on right

With all this eating going on, I console myself with the fact that I take the bus home for nothing, reducing my weekly fares by £25/week AND I have a good walk (every night) when I get off the bus (around 1.6 miles). If there's torrential rain, as there was earlier in the week, I'll call home and see if I can get a lift.The other day, the heavens opened and I mean opened. Let's just say it was torrential. It was so bad that the bus sent waves of rain water from the gutters on to the pavements, proper breaking waves, it was unbelievable. On that day I asked for a lift and was glad when it came even if I was thinking it had calmed down enough to make completing the walk feasible. So, I've been doing the 1.6-mile walk every week day now for some time, possibly for one month and when I get home the first thing I do is make that toast and marmalade in the kitchen and then take a seat in the living room where I watch either the One Show or the early evening news on the television. Last week I restarted watching Detectorists. I reckon I've seen all series at least four, possibly five times.

Something else I've started up is a trim wheel. I've been rolling backwards and forwards on my Gold's gym trim wheel on and off all week, although I have missed a couple days too, but not today. I'm going to keep it up and I'm also considering swimming too (if I can get my act together to sign up for monthly membership. I just hope I don't have to use the app to book a slot like I had to during the pandemic, which basically meant I never bothered going. That said, a few weeks back I went to a leisure centre and they said the app thing was still the only way to get a swim, which annoyed me, so perhaps I'll stay away. 

It was too early for lunch...

Despite the lack of cycling today and the fact that it's raining and that August looks as if it's going to be just as bad as July, it's turning out to be a really nice day in other respects...although that is partly because, again, I've gone and over-indulged on the cakes. Well, an almond croissant. This morning I noticed that there was a huge Starbucks next door to and M&S Food store so I convinced my wife, pal and saviour (that's just one person by the way) that we should pay a visit, which we did. And while I should have ordered a tea and nothing more I decided to order a cappuccino and the aforementioned almond croissant. It's as if I can't help myself. In fact, less of the 'as if', it's purely a case of I can't help myself. But, forget the croissant and the coffee, it was all about the chat and relaxing and starting to feel good about things in general and now I'm home having 'done the shopping' and I'm sitting at the dining room table, lap top in front of me, another cup of tea and (dare I even mention it) a slice of walnut cake and I'm thinking about nothing in particular. While in M&S I picked up a copy of the Economist only to discover that it was their 'summer special' and cost a ridiculous £9.99. Remember 'Summer Specials'? I'll always remember the Beano and the Dandy summer specials: twice the size of the conventional comics, they invariably featured an illustration on the front cover of a Punch & Judy show on a beach with bright yellow sand and a star fish somewhere to be seen and I loved them because it always meant that the summer holidays were coming and we were off to the beach somewhere on the south coast. Happy days!

I'm hoping tomorrow will be better weather. I think it will be. The plan (as always on a Sunday) is to meet Andy in Westerham. Unfortunately, Andy has aborted the ride so it's to me to motivate myself. Let's see (let's hope). Last week I managed two rides. The first was an interesting one because it started off as just a ride around the block, but extended itself as it went along. So instead of doing the Nobbler I continued up Church Way with a view to doing a Washpond Weeble in reverse. I turned left into Ledgers Road from the 269 but instead of turning left again and heading back home I turned right on Washpond Road and then right again on to Beech Farm Road, travelled the length of it and then hung a left on the 269 riding towards Botley Hill where a stark choice lay before me: do I hang a right on to The Ridge and ride home very Woldingham OR do I go straight ahead and down the hill into Oxted? I chose the latter as I needed a haircut and figured I could kill two birds with one stone. Titsey Hill was fine but when I reached the bottom I found the road to be closed. Fortunately, it was really only closed to cars so I managed to edge past the roadworks and sail safely into to Oxted where, once again, I was tempted by Coughlans bakery and a coconut Bakewell and a cup of tea. Across the road was Oxted Barbers so I nipped in for a quick number three crop and then finished off with another cup of tea (I felt that elated!). The barber only accepted cash and the haircut was £17 - that's up £7 from what it was just a year or two ago. With the remaining three pound coins I decided upon another tea, but not another cake. Unfortunately for me, the only newspaper in the racks was the Daily Mail (exposing the political leanings of Coughlans customers) so I sat in the sunshine reading the awful Boris Johnson's rubbish column in which he stated "Get Rwanda Done" - it was an old copy.

The ride home took me up the very steep Chalkpit Lane. Once at the top I turned left, rode into Woldingham and down Slines Oak Road to the 269 where I turned left and followed the road into Warlingham and then Sanderstead.

On Sunday Andy and I rode to Tatsfield Village and sat outside chatting for over an hour drinking tea and coffee and munching some Biscoff creams (if that's what they're called). Again, I fell at the first fence and went and bought myself a packet. I munched half of it before we rode home and spent the rest of the day feeling slightly guilty.

Last Sunday I rode into Tatsfield Village to meet Andy. He had met with an accident whilst on a short cycling break to the Isle of Wight, but nothing stops Andy, which is good. Thankfully, it was only cuts and bruises, but I don't like it when he meets with an accident especially after his broken hip just over a year ago. Still, he seems fine, which is all that matters.

My exercise during the week was just walking. On one day (I think it was Monday) I walked over six miles but for the rest of the week it was the 1.6-mile walk from the bus stop to home, but that has been a regular fixture for around a month now. 

I drove to Tunbridge Wells this afternoon along a rain-sodden A21. Once there I strolled from the shopping mall down the hill to a music shop close to the station. There was a persistent, drizzling rain, but fortunately it was only around 10 minutes' walk. When I reached the store there were no bass guitars to look at; I've always had a desire to learn how to play one, but (as with everything I want to do) I simply never get around to it or have other things to spend the money on. Other frustrations include the purchase of a Harley Davidson 883 Hugger, although, admittedly, I'm rather glad that little hobby, make that obsession, eluded me as I'd probably be dead now, not that I ever had the spare cash to buy one.

Today's rain was both persistent and sporadic. As I made my way back up the hill towards the mall, the sun was shining, but later, as I drove along the A21 heading home the rain was heavy, so heavy that I had to slow right down. 

Now home I've been listening to BBC Radio London and Gary Crowley's show, all fairly chilled. I need to be chilled now and then as I spend all week working and it's good to be on the stepping stones of Saturday and Sunday before wading back into the maelstrom on Monday. And on that note, I'll sign off.

I escaped the rain

At first I dawdled. I wanted to leave at 0800hrs, or did I? I'd already looked outside and the scene that greeted me was one that said it was going to rain, even if the iphone weather app said no rain until around 1600hrs. I decided to put my faith in the phone, it had been right before and I was sure it wouldn't let me down. But where to go? A short ride was mooted, a Washpond Weeble, no tea, no stopping, just constant ride in the gloom. No, surely not, there has to be more to life than a non-stop ride to nowhere. Oxted was always on the cards, but the two people I'd hoped might be there both butted out. Not a problem. 

Costa Biggin Hill...very pleasant

When I'm riding alone or not meeting anybody it means just one thing: greater freedom. I could leave the house when I wanted to and that helped in a way. I set off with no fixed idea as to where my final destination would be, but I had started thinking about Biggin Hill. Now there's a place I hadn't been to for a long while. I had fleeting memories of the place, the modern houses that were seemingly stacked on top of one another, the Spitfire Cafe, Stocks Hill, Ozzie's Cafe where they only accept cash or are closed...so that's where I decided to go. Tatsfield and Biggin Hill are virtually joined at the hip. One second you're in Biggin Hill and then there's a sign that says 'Tatsfield'. 

On the outward route I rode along the 269 and headed for Tatsfield Village, the temptation there being Sheree's Tearoom, but it's poor value for money even if the surroundings on a decent day can be quite pleasant, what with the pond and that whole village green thing going on. But I bypassed it, heading down Lusted Hall Lane, which was far more twisty than I remembered - and a little precarious when cars are around, but soon I was there, in Biggin Hill, riding through the burbs, trying to get my bearings and soon I found Ozzie's, having forgotten they only accepted cash. I never carry cash and I wasn't going to start now. Imagine that, drawing out money from a cashpoint, say a tenner, and then just spending a couple of quid on a cup of tea and having eight quid of loose change in my pocket. 

My bike outside Costa in Westerham last Sunday...

Cash is dead money, it's already been debited from the bank account, it has to be spent when, of course, it never had to be before it was drawn. I know, silly argument, but it's the way I think, so I circled back on myself and headed up the arduous Stocks Hill, right to the top and then a right turn and a slalom on the pavement to avoid pedestrians. I was looking for the Costa. I knew it was there and I knew it was at the far end of the High Street. I passed the Spitfire Cafe and it was closed, which was good as the cup of tea you get in there is a small mug. I wanted the large Costa English Breakfast in a takeaway mug, because you get more in the takeaway cup than you do in the pot and the tea stays warmer for longer. I did consider a Millionaire's Shortbread but it was £2.50, just like the tea. In fact, it might have been £2.60 and I didn't feel that was particularly good value for money either, so just a tea. 

Andy's New forks...love them!

I sat outside underneath the gloomy skies, which got gloomier as time passed and soon a fine drizzle began to fall and it might as well have been October, not July. Suddenly everything was extremely depressing. I was sitting under an awning so I wasn't getting wet. I just sat there watching the rain fall and thinking about the inevitable ride back. The vibe was bad, there was nothing to look forward to other than a soaking, or that's what I was thinking. My bike was padlocked a little way from the Costa but I could still see it. A few women went past with dogs, well one woman. There was a couple sitting close by with a small dog and they eventually upped and left and then a thick set man with a bushy beard sat on an adjacent table drinking coffee. Not sure what he ordered but I think it was an espresso. When the woman with the dog walked by he asked if it was okay to stroke the dog, she said yes, but don't be upset if he doesn't want you to stroke him. Fair enough, and the dog seemed a little indifferent to the man. A man with a tattoo on his upper right arm walked by with his daughter and soon it was time for me to consider the ride back. 

The rain continued but it was fine, very fine, like one of those sprays you might use on delicate flowers. I unpadlocked the bike and headed off back down the high street, gliding down Stocks Hill, bearing left and finding my way to something like Ricketts Hill or Ricketts Road, which was a long and arduous hill but not anyway near as hefty as going back up Lusted Hall Lane. I always seem to meet women when I'm climbing hills on the bike and they always have something to say, like "Not far to go, you're almost there!" And I always respond in kind and then carry on up to the top. She was right, there wasn't far to go, but I always get into my stride on hills, I knuckle down if you like and just move forward without thinking. I'd gotten used to the rain and it was so light that I didn't really get soaked at all. In fact, the rain stopped and I reached home intact.

Near Rectory Lane on the return ride from Westerham recently

The rain all but stopped by the time I reached Tatsfield Village green and followed Approach Road out towards Clarks Lane where I turned right and headed for Botley Hill. Then it was just a straightforward jaunt along the 269, through Warlingham, into Sanderstead and home. The bike's been performing really well of late, especially the gears which have been changing up and down with ease. During the week I did two Norfolk Nobblers. I've been feeling so tired and weary and have been finding it hard to get my act together and ride the bike. It might be something to do with not eating a decent hot meal at lunch time. I've been living on sandwiches and to be honest it's been fine but I've noticed that I've been getting increasingly weary. 

Saving money by taking the bus home, not the train...

I've taken to getting the bus home and just buying a single ticket for the inward journey to work. This way I save £25 a week, although I've been spending the extra on tea and toast and mineral water, but it's still good. The bus means I have almost a two-mile walk from the bus stop to home and this is fairly pleasant, but when I get home the last thing I want to do is get on the bike... or rather that was the case on Tuesday when I did the first ride. As soon as I turned on to West Hill and an immediate incline I almost turned back, I was THAT tired, but I persevered and put in a time of around 38 minutes. Put it this way, I was glad when I reached home and logged the ride on Strava. But then, two days later, on Thursday, after having a hot meal at lunch time (chicken bap, apple pie and custard and two mugs of strong tea) I rolled with it and shaved around four to five minutes off my time. 

Having a hot meal at lunch time is good

The Nobbler is harder than you might think, it's like a roller coaster and if I put the effort in to it I really feel it is doing me some good. I've also been using a trim wheel that has been sitting in the garage for years, but I've brought it back into the house and have been doing around 25 reps or whatever it is they're called. It's supposed to be good for the core and the abs and stuff, but let's see.Right now it's Saturday night, it's 1936hrs and once again I'm watching the Editors at Glastonbury on the television (iplayer). They're such a good band. I'm now watching Alt-J, never listened to them before, but they sound very promising. Actually, I'm not sure they're my cup of tea, in fact I'm going to turn them off, I don't like the cut of their jib. I've switched to Pale Waves, an indie rock band from Manchester with a female singer, but they're not that good so I'm back watching the Editors again.