Four rides, total distance covered = 71.27 miles

The signs were all there: summer was coming. Blue skies, hawthorn hedges trimmed with a flat top cut, blossoms on trees, daffodils in full bloom and, of course, sunshine. I was on the bike, I can't remember what time it was, but I know it was after 0900hrs, possibly later. I was on the 269, still not that busy even though it was a Saturday morning, but cars are noisy and so are their passengers. One car passed travelling in the opposite direction and as he passed he sounded his horn. Why, I wondered. There was no reason, unless he was simply unhappy that I was sharing his tarmac space. Who knows? Not me. And who cares? Not me again.

Cappuccino in Westerham this morning

Yesterday (Friday) I had engaged with a new ride: Botley Hill and a Washpond Weeble thrown in for good measure on the return ride, not that there was a 'return ride'. There's only a return ride when I stop somewhere, giving the ride it's two halves, the outward and the return journey, but this ride was non-stop, I never dismounted. I remember yesterday's ride for one reason: there was a tremendous temptation to ride into Westerham, but I didn't. I left Westerham for today (Saturday). I turned left at the roundabout, considering as I did so riding to Oxted instead. The temptation was, of course, Caffe Nero, but the downside was riding up Titsey Hill, so I stuck with Westerham and sailed down Clarks Lane looking forward to arriving at Costa Coffee. I was already wondering whether I should stick with my usual English Breakfast tea in a takeaway cup or opt for a regular cappuccino in a proper cup. There was no way I was going to have a cake. As we all know, I'm eating a lot of cake at the moment, one way or the other, and it's got to stop.

Lunch in Gail's in Sevenoaks. I should have left it there.

Westerham was buzzing. There were plenty of people wandering around, sitting in cafes, peering through shop windows, all the usual stuff you might expect on a Saturday morning. I rolled along the high street and parked up, padlocking the bike to a road sign and then headed on inside to place my order. I opted for the regular cappuccino and then took a seat in the middle of the store as other people were occupying my preferred seats by the window. It was pleasant simply sitting there, sipping my chosen drink and looking out of the window at those passing by; as always I could have sat there all morning. All I needed was a newspaper or a decent book, but I had neither, more's the pity.

At Botley Hill on Friday

The ride home was fine. I followed my usual route past Velo Barn and along Pilgrims Lane, eventually finding myself at Botley Hill where I decided to ride the 269 again rather than travel through Woldingham. I reached home around 1230hrs and after a Marmite sandwich set about mowing the back lawn, the first cut of the year (always a little tough). It's still not finished, but I'll complete the job tomorrow some time, it's just the lawn at the very top and the edges.

This week, my four rides totalled 70.27 miles. I had exceeded my preferred weekly mileage and felt really good about it. During the week I had a puncture. Well, Thursday I had a puncture. I fixed it there and then, in the garage, having found the rear wheel flat tyre as I was about to ride the Washpond Weeble. Initially, the idea of fixing the puncture and then going out on the ride was out of the question, but I did it, even if it did mean that I would be riding in the dark on the way back. I stopped off at Waitrose for some beef gravy (we had cottage pie) and the ride from the store to home was a little precarious as I had to balance a small plastic bag containing the gravy and some hot cross buns, but I reached home safely and enjoyed a bun before dinner. 

Friday I combined a ride to Botley Hill with a Washpond Weeble, a total of 14.65 miles and then later drove to Sevenoaks where I enjoyed an over-priced meal in Gail's. I had two cappuccinos when I should have had one and I had two cakes, one pleasant, the other not so good and I think in the end I spent something like £25. The weather was perfect and I had the day off. We wandered around the town, looking in shop windows, checking out the house prices, all the usual stuff and I was feeling happy knowing that I had completed three of my four rides. All that was left for me to do exercise wise was to ride to Westerham on Saturday morning and, as you already know, I have done that.

The light faded on Thursday as I turned on to Washpond Lane

The bike is in fairly good nick. I need to jet clean it at the local garage, which I will do one of these days, but after fixing the puncture on Thursday I did give it a mini-clean, including a scrub of the block with a toothbrush, something I'd never done before.

I engaged farmyard animals in conversation on Beech Farm Road

It's now almost 2100hrs on Saturday night, there's a programme on BBC 4 about The Normans. I'm kind of half watching it while waiting for my fish & chips, which is in the oven, or so I'm told. My cycling week starts on a Sunday, meaning that I need to get up and go tomorrow morning and then get back in time to either take a drive to Hurst Green or to get back and finish off the lawn. The front needs doing too so if we end up on a drive there might be no time. I'm easy, though, so we'll see what tomorrow brings.

Two weeks out of the saddle – but I'm back!

Not good at all, but shit happens, don't forget, and sometimes you just have to get on with it; not that any shit happened, it was just a case of not being able to go and the usual stuff, such as waiting around for people or having to drive somewhere early in the morning.

Our bikes near a cornfield on the approach to Westerham hill

I didn't go out on Saturday morning, but on Sunday I met Andy at the green and we headed for Westerham. On leaving the house I noticed how out of condition I was as I struggled up Church Way, although I was alright, I just felt a degree or two worse than I normally feel when I tackle a hill. Hills are an inevitable part of cycling, of course they are, but they're still mildly annoying and even more so after a two-week break.

I made it to the top of the hill, crossed the Addington Road and cycled through the churchyard, emerging on the other side and riding past Sanderstead Pond and on to the Limpsfield Road where I shifted into top gear and set my sights on the green.

The weather was fine: not as sunny as past weeks, but warm enough to wear just a tee-shirt and not the paint-stained, blue hooded top that normally accompanies me.

Since we last met, Andy had riden from Caterham to Canterbury (see link on previous post) so we talked about this briefly before deciding to save our conversation for Westerham. It was a smooth ride all the way there and soon we were sitting on the green where I noticed there was a large horse – not a real one – that had made itself at home behind the statue of General Wolfe; it was there for charitable reasons and made for a surreal scene.

Andy took this shot of the horse...

Other than the horse, not much had changed at Westerham since our last visit, which wasn't that long ago. We sat there drinking tea and munching BelVitas (as always) and watching cars and bikes and fellow cyclists ride by on the A25. There was a bit of 'bike conversation' that I won't bore you with and soon we had no excuse other than to get back on the bikes and head for home – and that hill out of Westerham. But hills (or anything in life) are never as bad as you think they are and, as always, we made short work of the climb and found ourselves at Botley Hill.

The ride along the B269 was smooth and we stopped briefly on Warlingham Green to arrange next week's ride. Andy can only make Saturday next week so on Sunday I'll either head for mum's (where tea and cake awaits) or I'll head for Jon's where a puncture needs to be fixed.

Andy headed towards Caterham and I rode along the Limpsfield Road towards Sanderstead, sailing down Church Way and weaving my way around the quiet, leafy streets until I found myself opening the garage door, padlocking the bike and getting on with what was left of my weekend.

As I write this, at 0641hrs on Monday morning, the sun is out, there are blue skies and all is relatively still. Birds are chirping, I can hear a distant radio and all is well with the world. Film director George A Romero has died and so has the actor Martin Landau (aged 89).

Bus stop and churchyard – and brilliant weather on both days

St. Mary's Tatsfield, Sunday morning

We didn't cycle far this weekend, but the weather was good on both days as we rode first to the bus stop (on Saturday) and then to the churchyard (in double quick time) on Sunday. It took us about 25 minutes to reach the churchyard from Warlingham Green, which was pretty good going. Andy had said something like 'heads down until the churchyard?' and that was it; we kept up a fairly good pace all the way and stuck close together.

The churchyard was very peaceful, apart from the hiss of the motorway about a mile away. The skies were blue, it was warm – a much better day than I had expected – and we sat on our bench and chilled, munching BelVita biscuits, sipping tea and talking about nothing in particular. There was nobody else about, we didn't even see the usual church people who turn up and potter about.

When it was time to leave the churchyard, I knew I had to get a decent shot for the blog, but I didn't want the usual stuff so I wandered over to the church itself and took the images that accompany this post.

The ride home was very pleasant. It was warm, the skies were blue and the sun was out. We rode up Clarks Lane, travelling west towards Botley Hill and then headed north on the 269 towards Warlingham. Andy branched off halfway and said he wouldn't be riding next Saturday (cue an urban ride to mum's perhaps). He'd see me again on Sunday. We'd talked about the lake, we'd talked about a later ride and a beer in the pub – and one day we'd do it, but probably not next week.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before on this blog, but I've been reading Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. It's a good book, but it's a big one (1,168 pages to be precise) and it's taken me around eight months to finish it, but I can now report (as I shrug a sigh of relief!) that it's finished and I'm now enjoying Long Way Down by Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman, which is absolutely brilliant. Mind you, I enjoyed the challenge presented by Rand's masterpiece and will be looking for similar literary obstacle courses over the next few weeks.

Looking south to Oxted from the Tatsfield Churchyard, Sunday morning

When I reached home after the ride I put the bike in the garage and then set about mowing the front and back lawns. After that it was time for an excellent home-made tomato and basil soup and then a drive to Shere, a cake and a cup of tea and then a wonderful walk in the surrounding countryside. I sat in the garden on my return, the lawn a velvety texture and the skies still blue, but wasps disturbed the peace as I sat and read Long Way Down, accompanied by a bottle-conditioned ale. Wonderful. It's now just gone 7pm and the skies are still blue and the temperature warm. Countryfile is starting and it's time for dinner – salmon. After dinner I might sit outside again as I think the wasps have gone.

Until next week, enjoy your lives everybody.