Rain initially stops play, but then I head to mum's and Andy 'does a local ride'

I was up with the lark at around 0600hrs. It was hard to tell what was happening with the weather because it was so dark outside. I had two Weetabix, a slice of toast and a cup of tea and then, having prepared the tea for the ride, I left the house, but only reached the front porch. There I could see the rain, caught in the beam of powerful streetlights. Wind gusted and fine rain was blown hither and thither. Not ideal, I thought, so I sent Andy a text and we decided to abort. Andy said he'd probably ride out locally while I figured that time would be the great healer. Sooner or later I was proved right as the rain did stop. My iphone said it would stop around 0900hrs – which was roughly on the money – but I couldn't wait that long and once daylight arrived I ventured outside to check things out.

It was still fairly mild out. I decided to ride to mum's, following the usual route. It rained lightly for most of the outward ride and when I got to mum's I was a little on the damp side, but nothing serious enough to warrant taking off my trousers and draping them over a radiator.

Tea and fruitcake round at mum's house in Carshalton – perfect!

Over tea and cake, mum and I chatted about this and that, as we always do, and I got a rare insight into mum's upbringing – her life at 64 Poulton where her brother Jack and sister-in-law Shirley still live.

Today we talked about mum's father, a person who remains to this day unknown to me, bar what I've heard. He died relatively young – I never met him, nor him me. He left the family home during the war – leaving mum and her three brothers – and eventually moved to Sheffield. He had asked mum to join him there, but she was about to get married to my dad and so declined the offer.

Mum talked about how her dad would decorate the house at Christmas time: paper chains on the ceiling and balloons.

"He liked to entertain," said mum, relating how he used to push the boat out over the festive season offering his friends and relations a choice of beef, pork, lamb and turkey – or something lavish of that magnitude, a bit like a modern day carvery. Christmas puddings were steamed in a 'copper', mum added. A 'copper' was a bath of the sort you filled up in the living room in front of the fire.

We moved on to talk about her aunties – Violet, May and Millie (the latter was always known as 'Aunt Mill'  to us), but we never saw a great deal of her or Violet and May – they all lived over Woolwich way and I think that's why mum's side of the family are Arsenal supporters. I can only remember Aunt Mill, who lived in Plumstead. She was one of those 'old ladies' who sported a raspberry stubble on her chin.

Memories are strange, but they're all there in mum's house. Across the street used to be Mrs Wheeler's house – the house is still there, but Mrs Wheeler passed away some time ago. She used to own a sandwich chop in central London. One of her sons, Billy, built a boat on the front driveway and I can still see it now, in my imagination. Next door to Mrs Wheeler was a frail, gummy old lady with long, white hair, called Mrs Rattan. She died ages ago and today the house is owned by John and Marion Brown. John was a policeman (now retired) and I remember him and dad used to play tennis together. I also remember the time he and some other policemen evicted a young couple that moved in (as squatters) after Mrs Rattan had passed away.

The rain had stopped and things had brightened up so I mounted the bike and rode home. The ride was pleasant and I was home before 1000hrs – having cycled roughly 30 miles over the weekend (probably closer to 28 miles).

One year ago...click here to see what we were up to!

Round at mum's...

Sunday 2nd February: Yes, alright, we went to mum's again, but why not? Andy, Phil, Jon and yours truly were there early for tea and cake and very pleasant it was too, although I'm conscious that early visits to mum must be the exception and not the rule for many reasons. One, mum's 85 this year and I don't want her to feel that we're all suddenly going to turn up expecting tea and cake at some ridiculous hour – not that mum minds us being there, she rather enjoys it. Second, the whole point of cycling: to get some exercise. Of late we've been leaving the house later and, as a result, having much shorter rides. Fine, it's not so much of a wrench as getting up at 0600hrs, but it's not in the original spirit of NoVisibleLycra – that of getting up early, heading off to Westerham, quick cup of tea and a cereal bar and then back home before 10am.

Jon, his Kona Fire Mountain and mum talking to Andy.

The plan is to start the early runs again next week and while it might take time to get re-accustomed to the early starts and the frosty landscape of February mornings, we've got to break out of the sloppy, late starts and the short runs. Alright, even if we do go to the Tatsfield Bus Stop (the slow way – arguably a better work-out than Westerham) it's best to go early rather than late as we all have commitments during the day.

So, we went to mum's. Phil and I met Andy at the top of Foxley Lane at 0815hrs and we headed off in the direction of Woodmansterne Green but then turned right instead of left, headed down through the smallholdings, past the Oaks Squash Club, into Carshalton Beeches, past the railway station and down the hill towards the lights at the Windsor Castle pub where we turned left, rode along the Carshalton Road, past the Cambridge Road BP Garage and M&S Simply Food and then right into Alma Road. We turned left into Shorts Road, under the railway bridge, left again at Westmead Corner and left again into Rossdale.

Everything stops for tea (and cake) at mum's, Sunday 2nd February 2014

Tea, cake and chit-chat followed, our bikes safe in the garage, and then we headed back exactly the way we came; and what a work-out it turned out to be: up Cambridge Road, right into Carshalton Beeches High Street, up Banstead Road South to Staplehurst Road, right at the mini roundabout towards the small holdings, left on to the Croydon Road, into Foxley Lane (where we bade farewell to Andy) and then crossing the A23 into the Pampisford Road and winding through the back streets towards the Purley Downs Road, hanging left into Norman Avenue and eventually surfacing on the Sanderstead Road (B269) before the punishing, but short, West Hill and home.

A good ride was had by all and the weather, incidentally was fine all day, a bit like it is now as I sit here on a Monday morning (I have today off). It's bright and there are blue skies and white clouds, although poor weather is promised in the shape of rain and heavy winds.