This and that...

It's around 0300hrs and I'm lying on my back in bed, or rather on the bed. Suddenly, I'm awake and it'll take me awhile to get back to sleep. Outside I can hear the rain, that's probably what woke me up, but now I'm hoping I don't remember whatever it is that I've been fretting about otherwise I'll never get back to sleep, although it's odd how suddenly I awake, unaware that I did fall asleep, and it's something like 0630 and I should be getting up to go to work. A lot depends on what day it is: if it's a Thursday or a Friday then I can afford to lie in, but in all honesty, once I'm awake there's little point remaining in bed. I get up, go downstairs, make breakfast and then sit and watch mainstream television channels, normally GMTV between 0630 and 0700 and then possibly a bit of the hilarious Mike Graham Show on YouTube, although it's highly addictive and that's the last thing I need when work, in some shape or form, beckons.

Pricey cake from GAIL's.

I haven't written for a long time and there's no real excuse or reason why not, I just haven't. I have, by and large, kept the cycling up. Last weekend, for example, I rode to Oxted and back, 20 miles, stopped for a cup of tea at Caffe Nero, finished off Hard Rain Falling by Don Carpenter and now I'm reading another 'rock' book, this time Welcome to Your Life by Roland Orzabal of Tears for Fears fame. In fact, today, I walked around two miles or so to Filtr, a coffee shop (a bit pricey for what you get) and sat there reading. I even managed to walk back and miss the rain. Yes, despite a major heatwave which started at the end of May and continued up until a day or two ago, the rain looks as if it's coming back as we head towards autumn, although I don't particularly want to talk autumn and then, inevitably, Christmas and how many shopping days there are to go, that's just plain depressing.

So the cycling has continued. The weekend before last I'd started riding non-stop, doing what I think I once called the Slines Oak Slogger, a 15-mile 'slog' up Slines Oak Road and then through Woldingham and down towards Botley Hill before heading along the 269 to Warlingham and home. Not a bad idea doing a non-stop ride as there's no lolling around in coffee shops and, therefore, no expenditure on tea and cakes, although on the latter, I had been doing really well in not having them, I literally stopped for some time until, that is, yesterday when I found myself in GAIL's eating one of their tiny little oval-shaped cakes with pink icing (see photo above). GAIL's is too pricey for what it is, like most places, but I always feel ripped off in GAIL's because it's too expensive for a chain operation masquerading as an independent, pure and simple. In fact, we try not to go to GAIL's and were foolish to enter one in Kew Gardens yesterday when there was so much choice from the independent sector. Still, you live and learn I guess. Actually, a word on Kew Gardens. The last time I was there, I was standing outside of a music shop and next to me was Pete Townshend of the Who. The music shop has gone, much to my dismay.

The much maligned front wheel.

A key thing of late has been walking, lots of it. Take this week, for example, since Monday I have walked roughly 13 miles, last week it was even more, I think it was 18 miles. I have a local route but I also walk back from the station on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Today is Friday and I walked roughly seven miles. All I've got to do now is get the swimming started up again and I'll be quids in, so to speak.

Tomorrow I hope to be up and out of the house on the bike. It's crucial not to sit around in the morning as it gets later and later and I end up doing a non-stop ride rather than a longer Oxted ride with a cup of tea thrown in for good measure. I've got to force myself not to watch YouTube, which, I'll admit, is becoming a problem, it's addictive, and the trouble is I tend to watch a lot of people shouting the odds about the UK and how it's governed, which, while entertaining, can become tiresome in the extreme.

I wouldn't say I'm on top of the world at the moment, I'm not. Up until relatively recently I was getting a good night's sleep, but now not so much. I'm still letting things get to me, which is wrong and it needs to be addressed, but how I just don't know. I need a day or two in the capsule to get my sleep back in order, a dose of Radio 3's Night Tracks wouldn't go amiss, anything to reset the clock or get myself back to a default setting.

Upended bike on parched lawn.

The bikes have been fine, though. The Kona is used occasionally and the Specialized is still my main go-to bicycle. I did have a puncture problem the other day, one of those occasions when something goes wrong and I end up in the shop asking them to fix it for me. It started when I bought a new tyre, which was okay, but it's always a little bit of a hassle getting it on the wheel. I was doing this in the back garden during the heat, the lawn totally brown. Anyway, somehow I pinched the inner tube the tyre wouldn't inflate because it was punctured. I bought another one.  There were far too many 'leeches' on the original inner tube that's why I bought a new one in the first place, but then, I ruined the new one and had to buy another. There was another problem, however, and that involved the wheel itself. We're talking the front wheel, which is normally the easiest when compared with the rear wheel, which involves the chain. I don't know what happened. I had to make sure that the wheel spun freely, but it didn't and I had to mess around trying to get it right, which I couldn't. God knows what happened, but I ended up having to buy a new thread thingy, a quick release set to give it its technical name and the guy in the shop fixed it for me. Very annoying. I always feel defeated if I have to let somebody else fix it, but it's working well now so all is good; there's a new inner tube, a new tyre and a new quick release set. I have another one should there be a problem with the rear wheel.

As the weather has, to a degree broken, my summer habit of buying two large bottles of Highland Spring sparkling water is slowly stopping. I used to sit out in the garden sipping the chilled drink as I read until darkness fell and then I'd come in and watch TV. Well, now, instead of the usual two bottles I only buy one and I'm guessing it'll only be a matter of time before that little habit disappears altogether. I'll try not to let it die. There's nothing worse than chilled (or ultra cold) water when the heat has gone, but if I can keep it up I will as drinking water is good for you and I'm partial to sparkling mineral water. For some reason I've gone off of drinking Pellegrino.

Dr. Michael Mosley once said that it was good to drink a glass of water with every meal. Well, I have one in the morning and I'm still working on having one in the evening too.

Two rides...one non-stop, the other to Oxted

For some time now I've been conscious that my blogging frequency has nose-dived. There's no reason really, it just slowed to a virtual stop and only came alive when I travelled somewhere. Perhaps there simply wasn't a great deal to say about cycling. I ride the same routes, they're all pretty much the same every week and I just no longer saw the point of writing about them. I am, of course, wrong, so today, Monday morning (not, perhaps, the best time to be writing a blogpost) I've decided to come back. The aim? To write at least one post per week.

This week I managed two rides. The first, on Saturday, was a non-stop excursion to Botley Hill along the 269 but taking Beech Farm Road on the return ride, diving into Washpond Lane and basically avoiding what I consider a dangerous bit of the 269. Besides, I feel better when I'm off the beaten track and not at the mercy of some of the nutters that populate that rather dangerous stretch of road from Beech Farm Road down towards Warlingham Sainsbury's.

Last week, Caffe Nero, Oxted...

I left late, wondering why all the discipline has gone. It used to be up with the lark (it still is) but then leaving the house at 0700hrs to meet Andy on the green at 0730hrs, but no more, the pandemic changed the way we rode and we started meeting at the destination, which was invariably a Costa or a teashop of some description. Lately, we've been meeting a lot in Sheree's in Tatsfield village. Today, however, was a non-stop ride, no teashops, just constant pedalling from the moment I left the house to the moment I returned.

On the outward ride I was constantly changing my destination in my head. I considered riding to Sheree's in Tatsfield village. I wondered whether I should head towards Westerham having not been there for some time, or whether I should go to Oxted, get a haircut. Biggin Hill sprung to mind as did a simple Washpond Weeble; and there were others, like the Slines Oak Slogger or the route that takes me to Botley and then into Woldingham and home. But no, I settled on riding to Botley and then back along the 269 to Beech Farm Road, then along Washpond Lane, Ledgers Road, Church Lane and back up towards Warlingham Sainsbury's where I turn right on the roundabout and head home along the Limpsfield Road. It was a good ride.

On Sunday it was Oxted, although again I was changing my route constantly, thinking again about Westerham and Tatsfield Village. I even considered the Tatsfield Churchyard as the weather was good, but I didn't have any tea with me so I rode to Oxted where a choice of coffee shops awaited me. Foolishly I went to Costa, which was annoying on many fronts, mainly because it was on the shady side of the street. I should have gone to Caffe Nero and ordered a green tea and an apricot croissant as I will in future because there's nothing nicer than sitting outside that Nero in the sunshine for a half an hour or so before the ride back, which involves Titsey Hill. I always dread Titsey Hill and often consider alternatives like riding into Westerham and then up the more sedate hill to Botley before rejoining the 269, a road that always features on my rides unless I cycle over to mum's, which I also considered but turned down.

I sat outside the Oxted Costa with a large tea and a Bakewell tart watching passers-by and generally chilling out, but with the thought of the ride home nagging me. When I eventually left town and rode towards the hill I started working out alternatives but then started saying to myself "no, you can do it, take the hill, don't butt out just do it". And do it I did. Nothing's ever as bad as you think it is. I rode down the 269 but didn't turn on Beech Farm and soon I was on the Limpsfield Road heading home, getting there around 1230hrs. After lunch I mowed the lawn and then drove over to mum's.

Non-stop rides and other stories...

Over the last few weeks I've started doing non-stop rides, meaning rides where I don't stop for a cup of tea or a bun (or both). Why I've started these 'new' rides, I don't know, probably out of a sense of not having much in the way of time on my hands, but still wanting to get out there and 'do a ride'.

Don't get me wrong. As the weather starts to improve - and it is starting to get more pleasant out there - I will be getting back to my usual routine; that of riding to, say, Oxted, and then sitting there nursing a green tea and an apricot croissant whilst sitting in the sunshine people watching and enjoying the pleasant summery mornings that tend to come our way when the clocks go forward.

I expect we'll be here tomorrow morning. Hopefully no rain!

There are, of course, many other signs that mean the same thing. One such marker is blossom on the trees. Long before the leaves appear on more conventional trees (is there such a thing as a conventional tree?) there are blossoms that bring out the Japanese in the locality who like to stand in front of my house (and others) and simply marvel and admire the blossom tree in my front garden. It isn't in bloom yet, but give it a few weeks and it will be, it's a bit of a late starter compared to other blossom trees in the area.

Seeing a tree in full blossom is a joyful experience. As I walk down West Hill towards the alleyway on my journey to Purley station (two miles) I always pass a white blossom tree in full bloom. I'm aware, by the way, that I'm using the word 'tree' and 'blossom' quite a lot and I will go through this post later to see how many I can delete.

From a cycling perspective, seeing all these signs, these precursors of summer time fills me with happiness as I'm not somebody who particularly likes the winter months. That said, when I awoke this morning, fully aware that later in the day I'd be outside mowing the lawn, I did start to feel a little down. Why? Because I don't want to mow the lawn. I hate mowing the lawn, getting the mower out of the garage, faffing around with the power lead and the circuit breaker and finally pressing the button and moving back and forth across my rather large lawn. In fact, it's not so much 'lawn' but 'lawns' - I've got three of them if you count the front garden. And let's not forget that the first cut of the year is the most challenging. I normally start at the highest setting and then step down to around setting three before I can genuinely say the lawn is done. But no, not today. Rain stopped play. Hailstones rained down upon me and I was forced to scamper around getting everything I'd taken out of the garage back in it.Secretly, I'm rather pleased that my lawn mowing was cut short, I just don't feel ready to mow lawns and the fact that it started raining proved me right. 

What I do like about winter - apart from fireplaces and watching movies and eating chocolates and all the cosy things I've been used to doing for years - is not having to do any gardening. Because I haven't had to mow the lawn since October 2023 I've spent my time visiting genteel places like Tunbridge Wells and sitting in cafes eating cake and drinking cappuccino. Bakewell tart, coffee & walnut cake, millionaires shortbread, you name it, I've enjoyed it at my leisure over most weekends since the mower was put back in the garage three months before Christmas. Well, now it's been woken up and it won't be hibernating for another seven months - not that I want to wish my life away. I've just got to get used to the fact that over the next seven months or 28 weeks, I'll be mowing the lawn at least every fortnight.

While lawn mowing is not my favourite pastime, it is good for me. My dad always told me that my garden was my gym and that I should get out there and keep fit in the process. Personally, I prefer to ride a bike into the sticks and find a coffee shop where I can sit and read a book for half an hour and then ride home again. Admittedly, it takes time and when I get back mid-morning the last thing I want to do is mow the lawn. However, that said, after a ride I always feel particularly energised and after a cup of tea I might well head on out there and get it done. Remember, it's only the first cut that takes an age, after that it's no more than an hour if I'm just doing the back garden. I prefer the back to the front lawn because out front there's talking to be done. Neighbours to pass the time of day with, passers-by always ready with an encouraging word or two and I don't like it. At least out back there's nobody to disturb me, I just get on with it and when the true summer arrives I can enjoy sitting on the patio with a huge mug of tea and possibly a cake from the supermarket while I admire my handy work.

When the rain did stop play the lawn was three quarters done and that means it'll be nagging at me for the next seven days unless I get out there tomorrow and finish it off. That's the plan, but first a ride, most likely to be Tatsfield Village and Sheree's Tearooms and then I guess I'll have to get down to it, although secretly I'll be praying for rain. Tomorrow's ride (if it happens) is around 16 miles. Today's ride was just over 14 miles. I had been considering riding into Oxted (a 20-mile ride) but somehow I couldn't face that uphill ride up Titsey Hill. I rode to Botley Hill, turned at the roundabout and was immediately hit by a cold northerly wind. It went right through me as I pedalled north and never let up until I turned right on to Beech Farm Road. I quite enjoy non-stop rides as they make me realise that, where cycling is concerned - and bearing in mind that I've been riding the bike virtually every weekend since 2006 - I'm fairly fit and could do something silly like cycle around the coast of the UK, like Mike Carter or Anna Hughes. They've both written excellent books about their respective adventures and both are good reads for different reasons. But I figure that if I can ride non-stop for, say, 20 miles, that means I could easily double up and do 40 miles a day (at first) and then, as I get fitter and fitter day-by-day I could hit the 70-mile/day rate. I often think about it: on the road before 0800hrs, 20 miles under my belt in around 60-90 minutes, a rest somewhere with a cup of tea and then onwards until lunch time and then perhaps another 20. I could probably ride 60 miles a day without too much grief. I don't know how long it would take me to circumnavigate the UK coastline (or whether I'd ever have the inclination or the time to do it) but it's one of those things I think about at night, in the dark, in the middle of the morning when all is quiet. I imagine myself wild camping somewhere and waking up as the sun comes out, making breakfast on a stove and then jumping on the bike.

Something else I find myself thinking about in the dead of night when all around me are fast asleep is camping, sleeping under the stars, stealth camping in a wood. I often try to identify places where I could hunker down without detection in a small tent; there are loads of places. Even today, while out on my non-stop ride, I kept passing places that would fit the bill nicely. I think that if I was homeless I wouldn't be sitting in a sleeping bag in a shop doorway, I'd be out in the fields. I'd try to keep fit by walking a lot and I'd probably walk into the town during the day but sleep at night in the woods, away from the nutters who hate the homeless.

It's 2037hrs, that's just gone 8.30pm if you don't understand the 24-hour clock. There's one of those royal documentaries on the box. I've just eaten breaded cod with stir-fry vegetables and a dash of sweet Thai chilli and I'll probably hit the sack later, armed with a digital radio and BBC Radio 3, Night Tracks, a programme that comes on around 2200hrs and ends at 2330hrs. It's great.