Rapeseed oil fields, large puddles and a trip to Westerham

It's rapeseed oil field time in the UK. A sign that summer is getting closer.

We managed to get down to Westerham yesterday (Saturday 21st April) and it was good. It had been raining in the night as there were huge lakes abutting the road side, which can be dangerous as we tend to avoid them by riding in the middle of the road, but what a great day: blue skies, sunshine and a vapour coming off the shrubs on the bank.

In Westerham the peace was spoilt by council grasscutters, one sitting on a mower, the other using an industrial-sized strimmer. Andy suggested we found somewhere else to sit, which I suggested was letting them win, but we moved as we couldn't hear one another talk. We moved to some benches opposite a commemorative fountain dedicated to Queen Victoria's Jubilee (not sure which one) but it seemed appropriate considering it was Queen Elizabeth ll's Diamond Jubilee celebrations this year.

On the ride home we took this shot, just off Beddlestead Lane, and then continued on our way. I spent the rest of the day working (and I'll do the same today, Sunday 22nd April).

Now it's time to meet Andy again and hit the road.

My dad...on the television - watch it if you can!

Bit of interesting news: was watching the 70s documentary on the BBC and saw my dad! He used to work inside No.10 Downing Street when I was about 12 or 13 and, as kids, we often saw glimpses of him on television. If you too would like to see my dad when he was younger than I am now, go to the bbc iplayer, click the 70s documentary (which at the moment is there when you open up the page) and then scroll through to around 46mins 30 seconds. You'll see former British Prime Minister Ted Heath. As the timer reaches 46.31 you'll see a man appear to the right of the screen, you get a profile shot then he disappears behind Ted and exits to the left of the screen. Blink and you'll miss it.

A grave photograph...

There's more to churchyards than gravestones. Hold on,
isn't that the edge of grave, with some daffs and my tea cup?

Visiting the churchyard as often as Andy and I do can get a bit boring when it comes to photography, so Andy resorted to my teacup and a few daffodils. This shot was taken on Saturday 14 April 2012.

A new fridge, two rides and a trip to Euphorbia...

It's a bit like this one...

What an exciting life! We've got a new fridge! Alright, it's not a racing set, but it's still great having a new fridge, a Bosch, just like our old one, but better, except that it's in the middle of the kitchen floor. Why? Because of the ridiculous configuration of our kitchen: the plug for the fridge is under the countering near the sink but it's impossible to get the plug round the back of the counters and into the socket. I've tried everything: inserting a length of hose through one of cupboards with the aim of taping the fridge plug (which is connected to the fridge) on to the hose and then pulling the hose back, along with the plug, so I can simply plug it in. But no, not a chance. The plug is too big and there's a big risk of it getting stuck behind the counters. Solution? We've got to call an electrician and ask him to fit a new socket in a more convenient place. The only other solution? Dismantle the counter – which is not an option – or start drilling holes, which is not an option either. So the fridge is in the middle of the kitchen floor, blocking entry or exit from the external kitchen door, but at least we've got a fridge. All week we've been without one, which is really annoying when you have a few beers to drink and can't chill them down.

On the cycling front, it's been short but sweet. At least we managed both Saturday and Sunday with trips to the Tatsfield Churchyard and then the Tatsfield Bus Stop. I had to get back early on Saturday to drive down to Perch Hill and Sarah Raven's garden. Had a slice of ginger cake, very tasty, and discovered something called a Euphorbia. It's a plant, but it sounds like a place, like suburbia. 'We're going to spend a few days in Euphorbia.' Sounds a bit aciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid! A bit Happy Mondays if you know what I mean. Anyway, the best Euphorbia is John Tomlinson and I want one for our garden. So, in other words, I was inspired. Going to Perch Hill was a great idea, although it was just a little too far: a long way down the A22.

Now it's late and everyone else is in bed. I've just picked Max up from Crystal Palace and I'm about to hit the sack myself. Sat and watched Marley & Me and now I want a dog. Better go to bed, got work tomorrow.

Rained off...

Monday 9 April: I was up at 6am but couldn't see any rain. It wasn't until I looked out of the kitchen window and saw raindrops landing in the birdbath that I realised. When I texted Andy he said it was blue skies over Caterham, but then, apparently, it started up over there too. So, here I sit, at the desk in the conservatory, the rain still falling (I can hear it now) and there's to be no cycling today. Still, there's always next week.

It's a woman's movie

1434hrs: It's still raining. Ben Hur and The Way We Were are on the TV, so is Antz and the movie version of Phantom of the Opera. I'm drinking a cup of tea. It's quite bright out there, but it's also very wet. We're considering a drive. It's always like this over Easter. I remember when I was a kid, it was just the same, except in those days I didn't own a car. I'd have been stuck 'indoors', watching a movie with mum and dad and if I said I was bored, which I did, my dad would say, "Go and read a book." To which I'd reply, "I don't want to read a book." These days, of course, I read a lot. I've just finished Willy Vlautin's The Motel Life, which I bought a few days back in Foyles. Northline, also by Vlautin, was good too. I've just started reading Inverted World by Christopher Priest.

Actually, when it rained back home, sometimes Jon and I would play with our forts and toy soldiers and escaped into the world of the rebels, like Kayak, and the establishment as embodied by Harlow, Stonehall and 'Chiefy'. Why the head of the rebel soldiers was called Kayak, I'll never know, but he was; and similarly, why I named a US Cavalry soldier Harlow and a mounted Queen's guardsman Stonehall, I'll never understand. Chiefy? Well at least he was a Red Indian – he was Jon's.

My fort, Black Cross Fort, still exists. It's at mum's. Some of the soldiers still exist too, either abandoned in the back garden or still in the fort. I think Jon's still got his fort too. We had many games with those toy soldiers and there were some memorable characters too, like the Jones brothers, who used to tie their ankles to the chain of the fort's drawbridge and swing down and head-butt the enemy. Then there was J and T Shot, two brothers, both lost at sea. They went on holiday to the South Coast and were washed out to sea, never to be seen again. And who can forget "Jeepy", so-named because he was permanently in the sitting position and confined to a Jeep. He died at the notorious Battle of Kiln Castle, which marked the ends of our childhoods. After that battle, on November 4th 1974, Jon and I ceased playing. I think I was 16, which was probably a little old to be playing with toy soldiers, but what the heck, we loved it. After Kiln Castle, the birthday and Christmas presents got  little grown-up: clothes. God, I used to hate that word.

"What did you get for Christmas?"
"Clothes."

I never envied anybody who answered 'clothes' to that question, but eventually I too uttered the word. Clothes. Horrible. Perhaps that's why I'm not in the slightest bit 'fashionable'. I still regard 'clothes' as something the grown-ups buy. And there, of course, is the nub of the problem: at 54 years old I'm still a big kid. But hey, it's alright. Jon and I both admitted recently that we still had it in us to go upstairs at mum's and play with the fort. One day, of course, I'll have to retrieve it from mum's, but hopefully not for a while.

We're going out tonight for a meal to celebrate a birthday. That gives us all something to look forward to because tomorrow I've got to work, but it's a four-day week and so is next week so it's not all bad.

Anyway, until next week, I'll sign off.

Down Gangers with Andy

Andy took this shot down Gangers Hill (or is it Gangers Lane?) on Saturday

April 7th 2012

I was too tired for an early ride, but Andy was up with the lark. Here's his Kona Blast resting against a tree somewhere along Gangers Hill. But did Andy visit the Farm Shop café, that's what I want to know!

Easter holidays so far...

It's Easter Sunday and we're having a buffet, which means that going for a ride is not a good idea. Why? Because I'm the cook. The main item of the meal, the hot item, is to be cooked by yours truly.

Looking out the window I see rain. Fine rain. It might well have been raining this morning around 5am when I realised that I didn't have time for a ride and sent Andy an 'abort' text, but if it was, I didn't notice. I certainly didn't hear it, probably because it was so fine. Silent rain. Looking outside now, there's a good chance that the ride would have been cancelled. My plan is to go tomorrow. That way I would have completed two rides over the long weekend.

You could say this is a boring photograph and you'd be right. It's of a field

near Woodmansterne Green on Saturday 7th April 2012. I like the bonfire.

I had a broken night on Friday, which led to a late ride to Woodmansterne Green to met Jon. Andy had gone out at the usual time, but I'd aborted due to tiredness. Good Friday? We didn't go out and today, Easter Sunday, no ride for yours truly and I'm wondering whether Andy took the opportunity to lie in.

If we go tomorrow, I'm hoping we'll have time to ride to Westerham. We need a longer distance than the Churchyard or Tatsfield Village and I think the bus stop's out of the question, unless we use it to shelter from the rain.

Last weekend – plenty of vintage cars

We saw loads of these on Clarks Lane, near Tatsfield, last Sunday.

A brief mention of last week's ride. Once again, we only went out once, this time on Sunday, and we cycled to the Tatsfield Churchyard. No photographs were taken because, by now, we should all know what a churchyard looks like. For me, while I like the churchyard (unless it's raining) it always brings home the reality of life, which nags at me here and there and, of course, I start to think about dad, whose anniversary comes round soon.

Last Sunday saw a huge rally of vintage Austin 7s. There must have been over 100 of them on the road, mainly 7s, but there were other, larger vintage cars, bigger Austins. Predictably, the drivers, like the cars, were crusty and old and wrapped up warm. Some of the cars were convertibles. Where they were going, I don't know, but judging by the numbers stuck to their windscreens – I saw no.259 – the whole thing must have attracted over 300 cars.

Photograph courtesy of the Beds & Herts Vintage and Classic Car Club. Click here for more.

The start of the day

A misty start to a great day on Sunday 25th March 2012.

Andy took this shot en route to meeting yours truly on Sunday morning. It somehow characterises our weekend rides.

Two years ago.

Talking politics at the Tatsfield Bus Stop...

Despite the fact that yesterday (Saturday) was a wonderful, summery day and, coincidentally, the day when the clocks went forward, announcing official British Summer Time, neither Andy nor I went cycling. My excuse? A late night on Friday drinking Long Island Iced Teas. Andy's? He just fancied a lie-in and who can blame him? I would have done the same.

Sunday was a case of game on, but I'd forgotten about the clocks going foward and was only reminded when Andy texted me and then called. I was up at 6am, but in reality it was 7am. We agreed to meet at 0830hrs (BST) instead of our usual 0730hrs and ride to the Tatsfield Bus Stop (a 16-mile round trip).

Despite the warmth, there was a lot of mist around, which cleared before we headed back. Our conversation revolved around politics, starting off with Europe and then moving towards the current global downturn and the plight of countries like Greece.

Former Labour leader, Neil Kinnock will always be remembered for
falling over on Brighton beach during the party conference in the 80s.

The basic difference between Andy and I is that I'm fairly left wing whereas Andy is right wing. He votes Tory and I vote Labour, although I admit to voting Tory in past elections back in the eighties when there wasn't really a viable alternative provided by the Labour Party - back in the days of Michael Foot, Neil Kinnock and the miners' strike. Alright, I admit, I voted for Thatcher, but I've wised up and as soon as the Labour Party got its act together, I voted for them, removing, if I recall, John Major from No.10 and installing Tony Blair and his so-called New Labour.

Labour was so desperate for power back in the late 90s that it figured the only way to get its feet through the door was to be a little more Tory and not so left wing. Suddenly, all that Militant Tendency stuff and the Socialist Worker had gone and the 'looney left' as it was known became a thing of the past. New Labour was a lot swisher and it must have appealed to the electorate as Blair had a landslide victory.

Let's face it, people were well and truly fed up with the Tories. We'd suffered all the various scandals of Cecil Parkinson and Jeffrey Archer, not forgetting Tim Yeo's 'lovechild' and David Mellor's shennanigans in a Cheslea outfit and that whole 'Euro Sceptic' thing and it was well and truly time for change. Blair's getting in to No.10 was as much a relief for the English then as Barack Obama's election as US President was a huge relief for the Americans who had basically been humiliated as a nation by 'Dubya', or George Bush Junior.

But inevitably, like everything, things eventually began to grate. There was that whole Blair versus Brown thing, Labour's own scandals surrounding people like Peter Mandelson (and others) and soon, especially once Gordon Brown found himself as Prime Minister, people wanted Labour out of power. The problem, however, was that they didn't really want the Tories back in power and the Liberal Democrats have always been rank outsiders in British politics.

The result, as we all know, was a hung Parliament and Clegg foolishly deciding to get into bed with David Cameron (the very thought!) to form a coalition government. Anything to get into power, eh, Nick? The only good thing about the coalition is that the Tories can't have it all their own way and have to bow to the demands of the Lib Dems on a variety of policy issues. Likewise, the Lib Dems have to grit their teeth too and there have been constant references to the whole party going pear-shaped and the possibility of another election. But no, they're still going strong and tackling the downturn.

Ed Miliband: it should have been his brother leading the party.

For me, as a left winger, the big disappointment was Ed Miliband becoming leader of the Labour Party as that decision, brought about by the unions, means that Labour is back with a leader like Neil Kinnock and nobody believes he has what it takes to be a British prime minister. His brother David was the real man for the job and it makes me wonder why such decisions are taken. Surely, it must be even more obvious to those in the Labour Party (and the unions) that appointing Ed as leader will inevitably mean no success with the electorate. David Miliband, fine, but Ed? No chance. But no, the Labour Party will now continue with Ed at the helm and will lose countless general elections until such time as it realises its mistake and puts David in charge. So expect more of Cameron in the years to come, I'm afraid.

Woof! Woof! Berlusconi's foreign secretary...

Having been out in Italy for a couple of days last week, I'm beginning to think the Italians have it sussed. When I bowled out of Verona airport, the first thing I saw was a huge – and I mean huge – poster of a woman in her underwear. Excellent. Add to that the general style of the Italians, particularly the women,  and factor in Italian food and wine and the weather AND the fact that they used to have, until recently, a rock 'n' roll political figurehead in Berlusconi (he's one for the ladies and isn't afraid to admit it, making him an iconic figure of political comedy). So, yes, I could move out there and live out my days if the truth be known.

So, as Andy and I sat at the Tatsfield Bus Stop watching countless 'Lycra monkeys' pass by on their Colnago and Bianchi racing bikes, we discussed all this and the mention of Italy and my trip to Verona  got Andy started on Europe. Let's be frank: Andy wants out of Europe and, to be fair, why not? He's right wing and right wing people want out of Europe. Jeremy Clarkson probably wants out of Europe. We both admitted that we didn't know enough about the intricacies of the whole 'Europe' thing to work out exactly why we did and didn't want to remain in the EU (I'm pro-Europe by the way) but it seems to be, like so many things, ideological. And that's one thing I don't particularly like about politics: the blind faith in ideology. Socialists and left wingers are pro-big government and the state – and the appeal of Europe in this respect is obvious. Conversely, right wingers (Tories) want small government and less regulation (and you can definitely see the reason why they want out of Europe, which is bogged down with countless EU Directives – just the sort of thing that niggles your average Tory.

In Italy they have huge posters like this one 

everywhere – another good reason for leaving the UK?

Let's be transparent and generalist here, although Andy disagrees with my 'black and white' approach: Tories represent business and making a profit; Labour represents the workforce. Tories want as little regulation as possible so that they can make as much money as possible for themselves and their shareholders, they want to be able to hire and fire at will and bugger the 'human' or 'social' consequences. Labour wants fairness in the work place and plenty of mechanisms  to prevent hiring and firing at will and exploitation. Labour is all for big government and lots of spending; Tories want small government and everybody tightening their belts – doing things on the cheap – so that maximum profits go to the directors of the private companies and the shareholders of the public ones. It can get a bit risky where, say, passenger safety is concerned, as the nation has discovered to its cost. Tories and business people in general would rather cut costs to save money than invest too heavily in safety. End result? Train crashes and people killed. Boris Johnson wants driverless tube trains, but I'm sure that Ed Miliband has the opposite view and so on and so forth.

Let's get back to blind faith in ideology, because the ideological objectives of the right lead to the above (cost cutting, less regulation and so on) and the ideology of the left is the complete opposite (big government, loads of regulations and spending lots of money); the end result is we vote based on ideology and often get frustrated when our elected Government acts in a certain way. I guess when New Labour came into power they had to reconcile the 'ideology' of the left with the needs of the electorate...otherwise they would never be handed the keys to number 10.

There's something very frustrating about British politics and it's all to do with the two-party system of Labour and Conservative. It's a two-horse race, in other words, and it means that we have a kind of schizophrenic see-saw in action: first it's 'spend, spend, spend' by the Labour party, and then it's 'save, save, save' by the Tories. One cancels out the other.

Greece: Bollocks! We'll go into liquidation and set up another

country under a different name!

We moved on to discuss the global downturn and the plight of countries like Greece. What neither of us could really understand was that money does exist out there, somebody has it because world governments are always talking about how much they should give to Greece to keep the company (Freudian slip, I mean 'country') afloat. So, who does have the money and why don't they bail us all out? What right have 'they' got to hold us to ransom and implement 'austerity' measures?

There are loads of questions surrounding this issue: what if Greece doesn't pay, what happens to the country? Does another country seek a county court judgement so that, should Greece decide to develop some photographs down at Snappy Snaps they would be turned away by eagle-eyed shopkeepers? Would Greece give, say, one of its islands to Germany by way of payment so that Crete, for example, can then hoist the Germany flag and everybody starts eating Bratwurst instead of moussaka?

Peter Cruddas, former Tory party co-treasurer. "And for £500,000...."

Surely, Greece can just turn round and say fuck off to the EU. "Bollocks! We can be self-sufficient like in the Good Life," they might say and then get on with the business of survival – they've got cafés and hotels, they can make wine and brandy, grow a few olives, and they can carry on with tourism, what do they need the rest of Europe for? Well, alright, they'd need them to populate their hotels during the summer months, but why would it be so difficult?

Who is it that holds all the money? And why can't they just give it to those who need it – or print some more? Andy says it's the banks. Well, if it is, they shouldn't be allowed to wield such power. I'm tired and I'm going to sign off but hey, there's a new corruption scandal out in the open at the moment. Step forward, Mr Peter Cruddas! I love that surname as it kind of sums up his situation – 'I'm up to my neck in Cruddas at the moment'. For those of you who don't know, Cruddas was the Tory Party Co-Treasurer (he resigned today). Mr Cruddas, take your place in the Tory Hall of Infamy – click here for more!