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.

A bad week for cycling: blustery weather and rain put paid to my exercise!

The week before last was brilliant. I managed to ride 105 miles and you can read more about that in the previous post. This week has not been so good and it's entirely to do with the weather. All week it's been on and off raining, one minute it's nice and sunny, but then I turn around, the skies have darkened and it's raining. Normally this happens around 1600hrs when I'm considering stopping work for the day and getting some exercise. The end result, of course, is that I don't get out, I resign myself to no cycling and, you know, I'm kind of relieved. Why? Because at the end of the day I'm knackered. I know it sounds odd using the word 'knackered' when all I do is sit at a desk, but after a full day, starting around 0800hrs, I'm done by the close of play around 1600hrs and I want to do is sit down and watch an episode of Detectorists on iPlayer.

Every day of last week was the same and as the week drew to a close I soon realised that my mileage would be nowhere near what it was last week.

On Friday night I didn't get much in the way of sleep. I developed a kind of phantom toothache, a nagging dull ache the eventually forced me, at 0200hrs, to seek out some painkillers and deal with the problem. I dropped one around 0230hrs and went back to bed, waking around 0430hrs and somehow managing to get through to 0600hrs before getting up. A ride was out of the question. I was feeling weary and would remain that way for the rest of the day, so I found Detectorists on the iPlayer and watched a few episodes at random. I'm going to have to write an entire post about Detectorists and the genius of Mackenzie Crook. All of the characters are brilliantly portrayed by some top class actors, led by Toby Jones and Crook, it's always a hazy summer's day (apart from the Christmas Special at the end of Series 2) and I find I can lose myself in the fields. Oh to live that sort of life, with no real worries, nothing stressful going on, just endless summer days of wandering the fields, drinking tea from a flask and talking bollocks. It's a bit like Andy and I on our bikes come to think of it. Perhaps there's a comedy series waiting to get out of NoVisibleLycra, who knows?

Tea and cake in Redhill's M&S cafe on Saturday

After Detectorists and with a blanket keeping me warm, I watched Tales of the Unexpected and then did very little else until around 2pm when I drove to Redhill to look around the shops. I went to Waterstone's and realised there were lots of books I wanted to read. I sat in a virtually empty M&S cafe with a huge chunk of coffee and walnut cake, something I should have avoided if toothache was the problem, but I'm not sure it was. Tea and cake and light conversation and then another wander around the bookshop before driving around Redhill for a bit and then driving into and around Reigate. I can't remember what time I reached home, but I was still a little weary and later found myself watching the Eurovision Song Contest. I only liked Mata Hari by Azerbaijan and I hear that the British entry received nil points, it was that bad!

While in Redhill Andy texted me to check if I was okay for meeting in Westerham Sunday morning. I said I was because I thought I would be fine and, fortunately, I was fine, although, in the middle of the night I did wake up, not with toothache, more anxiety about toothache, and started to wonder if an 'abort' text was necessary. It wasn't. I eventually rose from bed around 0600hrs, made breakfast as usual and then headed for Westerham around 0800hrs, arriving just after 0900hrs. Andy was there already and it was his shout for the tea and cake (well, almond croissant). We sat there watching the arrival of many Harleys, some of them carrying Hell's Angels from Surrey, they all seemed like nice guys, but I did feel a little inadequate with my mountain bike and 'Wild Man' cross bar bag. It takes all sorts. We chatted about Andy's organised ride the previous week, on his mountain bike, and how the rain made it all a little unpleasant. When a pal pulled out because of a brake failure, Andy (quite rightly in my opinion) followed suit after covering 22 miles of a 40-mile plus ride.

It was time to head home, always a bad moment, that thought of riding up the hill towards the Botley, but as always we manage it and after riding through Woldingham we parted company at the top of Slines Oak Road. Until the next time (in a fortnight's time as Andy's heading for Ashford in Kent next week). I'll have to motivate myself next Sunday.

I reached home just in the nick of time. It's been blowing a gale and raining ever since and now as the light fades at 2115hrs, it's still the same. Here's hoping next week will be better.

New Year ramblings...

I completed my week on Saturday 2nd January with the Slines Oak Sloth in the grey and cloudy weather. The roads were a bit wet but that was about it. In total another 15.34 miles bringing my weekly mileage to roughly 57 miles, possibly more as I haven't added up the fractions.

On Sunday 3rd January I rode to meet Andy at the Tatsfield Village bus stop where we chatted about a range of subjects, the main one being Andy's assertion that tourism was pointless. Perhaps not pointless but I think what he was getting at was foreign holidays and simply sitting around doing nothing for a week, which I always thought was the point, but I know what he means. Andy says time passes quickly when you're sitting around doing nothing. Now, I'm not sure about that. I always find that a busy schedule makes the time pass faster than if I'm doing nothing and don't forget that a watched kettle never boils, so there you have it. But Andy has point: how many people visit London, I wonder, and think that seeing Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament is all there is to the UK capital? Or who goes to Paris just to see the Eifel Tower?

It was foggy and I thought a little cold so I wore the balaclava and several layers of clothing as well as my face covering thingy, not sure what you call them, possibly a 'snood', but who knows? Either way it made life a little more comfortable on the bike. 

Riding to the Tatsfield Village via Woldingham clocks up 18.23 miles. As you can see from the shot below, the roads were wet and because of the fog the air was damp. At one point I encountered sleety rain, or possibly even snow, on the 269, but nothing came of it.

On Clarks Lane, just past the Botley Hill roundabout...3 January

It's now Monday 4th January and I'm back at work, which was a bit of a wrench if I'm honest. I finished just gone 1630hrs and now I'm sitting at the dining room table blogging. I really hope to be able to get more miles in this week, but as it's dark by 1600hrs then I might need to look at early morning rides that get me back before I start work at 0800hrs. We'll see how that goes. Perhaps a couple of early Norfolk Nobbler Double Loops (10 miles). It would be good to get the mileage up to over 60 miles this week.

Tuesday 5th January and it's cold and rainy outside. It's now 1841hrs and I'm sitting in the sun lounge blogging. I wanted to go for a walk, but it would be too unpleasant. Ben Fogle's back on Channel Five tonight with a new series of New Lives in the Wild. Can't wait. Not sure if I've mentioned this before, but Ben Fogle is one of the best things on television. After that I'll probably watch another 'scary' movie. None of them have been scary yet, just a little bit naff if the truth be known.

It would be remiss of me not to mention the lockdown. Yes, for the third time since March last year we're back in lockdown. For how long nobody really knows, but we've got the vaccines on the way so hopefully it won't be too long. I'm gunning for Easter. Everybody's getting tired of it now, I know that I am.

So, a week of no cycling. But the weather was poor. It was cold and rainy and not really conducive to enjoyable cycling. My cycling week ended on Saturday 9th January and all I managed was around 40 miles, probably just 39. Today (Sunday 10th January) I rode to meet Andy at the Tatsfield Village Bus Stop. He wasn't there. But he did try to contact me. Unfortunately, my phone (once again) had run out of power so I sat alone drinking tea and giving Andy until 1000hrs before heading back home. He never turned up. Later, when I'd charged my phone at home, I opened up the messages and there it was: Andy had aborted, but only because he couldn't get into his garage. An iced up lock prevented him from attending the Sunday morning meeting of NoVisibleLycra. There's always next week.

The weather was cold over the weekend. Yesterday when I rode out around 1000hrs it was just 1 degree as I headed towards my destination: Westerham. I rode there via Pilgrims Lane, past the VeloBarn and then into the town centre. I didn't have a mask or any money so I couldn't stop for a cappuccino and some cake at the Costa on the green. Instead, I rode through the high street and then turned right and headed for the hill that would take me out of town and on the road to Botley Hill. There was thick fog most of the way and on Sunday it was just the same. It was also very lovely. The trees were frosted white and were shedding showers of ice, glass-like shards shaken from the bare branches as the sun tried to poke its head through the swirling, steamy grey clouds. Sunday I rode back from the village via The Ridge and that means my mileage was 18.23. If I could do four Slines Oak Sloths this coming week it would be good, but let's see what the weather has in store.

It's not just the weather, of course. Now I'm back at work my cycling windows are getting smaller. It's dark around 1600hrs, meaning lunch time and first thing in the morning are the only other options. The last thing I want to do is go out first thing in the morning as I need a bit of chill time prior to starting work around 0800hrs. By lunch time I'm in need of a break, so it looks as if cycling is reverting back to two rides per week, at the weekends, but only during this period of darkness and bad weather. Hopefully, as the weather improves, I'll be pushing the envelope again...unless COVID restrictions mean I can't ride out to places like Tatsfield village or Westerham. I think I'll take the risk on that front.

Puncture halts ride and I hope for a lull in tomorrow's predicted bad weather...

I reckon I've missed the ride this weekend. There's some nasty weather coming in from the west and I think today, Saturday is going to be the only day we get a ride in. But it was not to be: I went through all the motions, of course. I made the tea, sorted out the milk and the tea bags, chucked the lot in my rucksack and then headed outside to jump on the bike. But no, there was a rear wheel puncture and while normally this wouldn't have phased me (I would have simply fixed it, arranged to meet Andy a little later and all would have been fine) today I had to get back early, so the lost time led me to abort the ride.

A randomly selected shot of Badesi beach in Sardinia on a windy day in 2016

I decided it was best to fix the puncture and set about the task calmly. As I write this, the bike is now repaired and both tyres have been pumped up hard. I hope I get to ride tomorrow, but if the weather is anything to go by I seriously doubt it, but you never know. If a ride is on, you can bet I'll be soaked by the time I return home.There might be a lull in proceedings that gets me out of the house, but I'm sure that, somewhere along the road, the heavens will open and I'll get wet, but let's see. It might be one of those freaky situations when I somehow escape an early morning cold shower, who knows?

While I'm here, what's been going on of late? Well, not much if the truth be told. I've been working ever since I returned from New Delhi and I'm not travelling anywhere until early April at present, although there might be trips to Vienna and Milan on the agenda, not sure yet. Having just returned from the garage after fixing that puncture, there's also a lot of clutter in there that needs to be sorted out and let's not forget that I need to decorate the hallway. I was reminded of this when I spied the paint brushes and the roller on the floor in the garage alongside two tins of paint. It's got to be done sooner or later so I need to put aside a weekend.

Mum had her hip replacement on 31 January and now she's fine and walking around quite normally. Amazing really. She's 89 (90 in November) and she's sailed through the whole thing without (touch wood) any issues. Things have gone back to normal as we no longer have to spend the nights round there. I used to spend Saturday and a day in the week over there and Jon and Chrissy (my brother and sister) would fill the other days. It's strange sleeping in my old bedroom and oddly not the same anymore. I prefer to be here in my own home six miles east of mum's.

Mike Carter has a new book out (All Together Now?) and needless to say it's fantastic. There will be a review here on this blog just as soon as I've finished it. The book I read before Carter's latest was Douglas Coupland's Girlfriend in a Coma, which was a little strange, and prior to that, Michel Houellbecq's Platform. He's got another book out in the UK later this year called Seratonin, which I'm really looking forward to; I first read Houellbecq back in 2007 – Atomised – and with everything that's going around Brexit, he's kind of part of the zeitgeist, which is all good.

Not much else to report, so I'll sign off. The photograph accompanying this post is of a beach in Badesi, Sardinia. It has nothing to do with anything other than the fact that I went on holiday there a couple of years ago, which was good.

I have nothing more to say other than here's hoping I get a ride in tomorrow.

Sunday – Storm Freya means no cycling

Bad weather had been mentioned once or twice on the television. So-called Storm Freya was on its way and it was due to hit on Sunday. I woke up at 0600hrs and immediately took a look at my neighbour's conservatory roof. The puddle was animated by rain so I immediately sent Andy an abort text and spent most of the day looking out of the window or reading Mike Carter's All Together Now, not forgetting a drive (as opposed to a ride) to mum's. It was a lazy day and a weekend without cycling.

Fantastic Saturday, rainy Sunday

This weekend the BBC weather people got it right: they said – or rather their map indicated – that there would be rain during the night and then, by around 7am, the rain would move north, leaving the South East clear. I remember the rain in the night. It poured down and I could hear it hitting the conservatory roof, but by 7am, while wet and grey outside, the rain had stopped. When Phil arrived we both look skywards and while there was a nagging feeling that we might get a soaking en route to the Tatsfield Bus Stop (always a safe bet destination in rainy weather because it's covered) I put my trust in the weather people and headed off to Warlingham Green where Andy was waiting (and feeling a lot better after his cold).

From left: Andy, yours truly and Phil at Tatsfield Bus Stop, Saturday.

As we headed off along the Limpsfield Road, the skies above brightened, revealing blue skies and white clouds. We turned left just after Warlingham Sainsbury's and took the slow, more scenic route to the bus stop, albeit a slighter harder route in terms of general exertion. The quiet roads are far better than the 269, which always has cars racing in both directions. With the more scenic route we can talk more, except when we reach Hesiers Hill, which needs all the concentration we can muster. Hesiers is dangerous: a steep downhill lane with a couple of nasty blind corners. Only fools would descend without a wary hand on the brakes.

Once at the bottom, like a roller coaster, the road takes an upward curve and becomes Beddlestead Lane, a long, slow climb towards Clarks Lane, but very scenic with empty fields left and right and sunshine creating a strobing effect on the eyes through the gauze created by the shrubs and bushes.

Last week mist and horses, this week a hazy sunshine.

Reaching the bus stop is always a delight, especially once the tea and cereal bars are brought out. We chatted about what we'd do if won many millions on the EuroMillions. I said I'll buy a huge house on the South Coast, one with plenty of space, and then I'd build a ghost train and have it so that the entrance and exit – you know, the swing doors the trains crash through – are on either side of a grand fireplace.

I've given up buying Lotto tickets because I don't believe in the ticket price rise from £1 to £2. It's all about greed, hence my decision to no longer bother, although I will continue with EuroMillions at work   and I might buy a Lotto ticket once a month. However, whenever I'm in a supermarket I always think, 'ah! I'll buy a Lotto ticket!' And then I remember that it's now £2 and I think of the fat cat bastard – there must be one at the top of Camelot – and then I decide not to bother.

Andy's bike on Warlingham Green

Sunday – rained all day, 

The same BBC weather forecasters who predicted Saturday's weather were equally right about Sunday's. What was annoying about Sunday was me leaving my mobile phone in the bedroom as both Andy and Phil sent out messages. Andy's was 'abort' due to rain; Phil's read, "BBC forecast is 'mist' 7am to 8am then 'heavy rain' 8am to 6pm. Just thought I'd ask what the likely consensus might be before I start the bacon sandwiches!"

Now, had my mobile phone been on the desk or anywhere downstairs I would have read this (and Andy's text) and sent back an 'abort' to Phil.

Moments later Phil sent another text, which again fell upon deaf ears; "Past the point of no return. Bacon going in now..."

I, meanwhile, had prepared the tea and was ready to go out. But now I'd checked my phone and seen Andy's 'abort' text. Phil was on the doorstep in high viz jacket and waterproofs. The rain had started, he said, and it sure had. "Let's not go, it'll be unpleasant," I said – or words to that effect – but as Phil was up and dressed (and certainly prepared for a ride) he said he would press on, so respect is due to Phil for a second ride in the rain, alone.

Before he set off, Phil gave me my bacon sandwich. I had a bit of work to do so I ate it in front of the computer screen. In fact, the only bonus in there being rain this morning was that I got my work done early and could chill for the rest of the day. I didn't do much: we had stir-fry and noodles for lunch followed by a drive to mum's for fruit cake and tea, then we bought a cake in Waitrose and the plan now is to sit and watch The Mayor of Casterbridge on television.

A strange-looking mist on Sanderstead Green last weekend.