To Westerham for breakfast, the slow way to the bus stop...and a puncture!

Tuesday 6th November: The weekend's weather was good, which is good news in November. We met at the Green and decided to head to Westerham and the Tudor Rose for breakfast. It was a repeat of last weekend's ride, except that I didn't have any decorating to do when I got back. We even had the same food order: sausage sandwich, scrambled egg on toast with mushrooms and a pot of tea. The restaurant was sparsely populated. I've noticed a regular customer and the rest of us were cyclists, although we were the only ones without Lycra.

Tudor Rose Tearooms in Westerham, Kent, Saturday

The ride down had been good, nothing to report, but good nonetheless. Although, having said that, I was forced to make a detour – down Briton Hill Road and up Sanderstead hill (the 269) – due to some sort of altercation at the top of Church Way. Two blokes plus one bystander were involved. There was a parked people carrier and two people, one I'm assuming was the driver, all wearing track suits, pushing each other around and I figured that I didn't want to get involved in any trouble at such an ungodly hour, so I diverted and had the pain of the hill to deal with before reaching the roundabout.

The delay was miniscule, but it was a little annoying.

We rode along the 269 to Botley Hill and then took a left at the roundabout along Clarks Lane, sailing down the hill and into the northern Kent market town, both pleased that we'd riden to Westerham two weeks in succession.

On Sunday, I felt a little tired, but I got up, had breakfast and then headed for the green again. This time we opted for the Tatsfield Bus Stop – the slow way. Always tiresome, but eventually we got there thanks to a positive mental attitude, a phrase Andy had used to drum up some enthusiasm in me; quite honestly I was thinking of a short run to the cottage via Botley Hill, but in all honesty, I'm glad we did it and, as always, it wasn't that bad.

We sat at the bus stop watching bad drivers wheel-spinning on the right turn out of Approach Road and then, having flicked our teabags on to the patch of grass in front of us, we jumped on the bikes and headed for home. Andy parted at The Ridge and I rode the off-road path to Warlingham. Perhaps I should have stuck with the road. Why? Because later in the day I found myself in the garage. I must have gone out there to bring in the step ladder (there was a small hole in the ceiling that needed filling and painting over). I had to move the bike and when I put it down I noticed a dull thud rather than the usual bouncy one associated with a fully inflated tyre. I couldn't believe me eyes. Only Saturday I'd been bragging to Andy that it's been two years and no punctures. Never tempt fate, that's all I can say.

Inside the Tudor Rose Tearooms – perfect!

* The date at the top of this post is wrong. I penned this report early in the morning on Tuesday 6th November.

Communication breakdown, but all's well that ends well!

Andy's Blast against Churchill's statue, Saturday 13 August 2011.

Best laid plans often go to waste. I had planned to go cycling on Saturday (August 13th) and was looking forward to a Westerham ride, but it was not to be; why? Because my iphone exploded on me. Well, alright, it didn't explode as such, but let's just say it wasn't working, meaning that I had lost radio contact with Andy. I didn't know his home number and couldn't remember his mobile number, so I was stuck.

Saturday morning. I discover a puncture, but first, prior to that, I was sitting downstairs in the conservatory looking out on a bleak landscape - grey clouds and spitting rain. Without having a mobile, of course, I had no way of knowing whether Andy had sent me a text aborting the ride. Was it pouring down in Caterham? I hadn't a clue. Then there was the puncture and the fact that, after my last mammoth puncture (detailed in a previous post) I had no leeches.

Time was pushing on and I resorted to email, sending Andy a note explaining my position, but he'd already left to meet me at the green.

As I always say in these situations, at least Andy got a ride – I didn't. I did fix my puncture (to the front tyre) and was ready for Sunday and a trip to Westerham. The weather was pleasant too. Andy sent me an email explaining how he'd gone from Warlingham Green to Westerham on Saturday in 32 minutes. Not bad going. And then back home to Caterham in under an hour. Pretty damn good.

Grandma Claire – aka my mum – makes exceedingly
good cakes. This shot taken by Andy Smith of one of my
mum's Christmas cakes.

I'd spent Saturday night round at mum's so it was a rush on Sunday to get over to Croydon and then out to meet Andy, but I made it and we headed out to Westerham again, which was great. We resolved to visit the place more often, so hopefully next week we'll be there, sipping tea, munching cereal bars – and possibly even some of my mum's cake (Andy's put in an order, and who can blame him? My mum does make exceedingly good cakes!).