Lockdown, Part Six: Let's not normalise deadly viruses

I don't wish Boris Johnson any harm and I most certainly wish him a speedy recovery, but if there's one thing I can't stand, it's being told what to do by a tabloid newspaper. "He stayed at work for you, now pray at home for him". And what are you going to do if I don't, you sub-standard little red top newspaper?

Having Raab at the helm is very worrying so yes, Boris, get out of hospital as soon as you can and relieve the man of his duties, although, judging by the fact that Johnson is in hospital with Coronavirus might mean that he too is not really the guy that should be running the country during a pandemic. That said, what is the alternative? Michael Gove? The last thing we want is Orville running the show.

I started off week three of my lockdown exercise regime yesterday with a 10-mile ride to just beyond Warlingham Sainsbury's. I doubled back along Ledgers Road, it might be Ledgers Lane, can't remember, but it was longer than I remembered and I think it added at least a mile on to my distance, so I'm guessing I rode around 11 miles, probably just over.

Hopefully, Johnson will lead the charge against China's unhealthy practices

If the truth be known, I didn't want to go out. I was feeling a little tired, although I hadn't been out of the house all day. It might have a lot to do with staying up late watching episodes of the X Files. Even this morning I could have wished the radio further when it switched itself on at 0600hrs, so I need to hit the sack earlier. It's all very well thinking I'm doing myself some good by drinking a camomile tea before bed, but if I'm not getting enough kip, well, it's not right.

They're talking (on Radio 4) about an international response to the crisis, but as always nobody asks the right questions or deals with the real problem: China. They always skate around the situation, being careful not to leave themselves open to charges of racism. The World Health Organisation, it is being said, is too politically close to China, even Donald Trump is starting to get a little fidgety about the WHO, claiming that he's going to look into it as the USA hands over the most money.

Trump's bound to have something to say...

What we need is somebody to do an Emperor's New Clothes and say it out loud: China is to blame for this virus, nobody else, their bad practices in Wuhan, their cover-up - their fault! It's hard to believe that nobody is saying anything, but they're not and yet thousands of people are dying. There's a story on the BBC website: 'Message from Wuhan: Learn from our mistakes.' I found myself thinking, yes, Wuhan's mistake. If it wasn't for Wuhan's mistakes we wouldn't be in this position. I think the issue here is this: we can't be placed in this position again, it's not only killing a lot of people, it's damaging the economies of nations around the globe AND infringing on the personal freedoms of millions of people. Surely we need to ensure that such a tragedy doesn't happen again. I think if something like this raises its ugly head again, we need to stop it immediately, stop flights from the offending nation and keep our economies going. We can't afford to be politically correct on something of this magnitude. In fact, I'd rather be called a racist than be stuck indoors for months on end and having to socially distance myself from everybody. Unfortunately, I get the feeling that nobody's going to say or do anything, lessons will not be learned and we'll sleep walk into it again in the not too distant future. I'm hoping not, but unless somebody has the guts to say something and mean it, we can all expect our current lockdown situation to become the norm. So watch out for those who start trying to 'normalise' the lockdown - like the mass media, because that will lead to complacency and that's the last thing anybody wants at the moment. You would have thought that being in intensive care, risking his own death by foolishly shaking hands with Corona virus victims, Boris Johnson would come out fighting and determined to put a stop the Chinese doing whatever it is they do that can cause such massive problems for the rest of the world. But I'm doubtful. And if the WHO is politically aligned with the Chinese, well, perhaps things do need to change.

Tonight, the second of my 10-mile rides. Next week it'll be 14 miles. On the cycling front it's all good, although it's a shame I'm not allowed to cycle with anybody and by that I mean my pal Andy. He, like me, is doing the same, cycling alone and we're both missing the tea and the chat. Hopefully, things will improve, but right now we're in the thick of it.

* Photos courtesy of Pixabay.com

Lockdown, Part Five: It's getting on my nerves!

I don't know why, but there are a number of words that are used relentlessly by the media, especially in a crisis, and I can't stand them: 'community' is the worst as it conjures up a situation, in my mind at any rate, where people live like the animals in Brambly Hedge. As if we're all mice wearing Easter bonnets and aprons and living in tree trunks, bidding a friendly 'good morning' to our neighbours while our kids roll hoops down grassy hillocks. No! It's not true! We all hate each other, we all think our neighbour is a disease-ridden scumbag to be avoided at all costs. Stop deceiving us! We know it's not true!

Covid-19 - it's a global catastrophe!

The crisis rolls on, and so does 'lockdown'. Boris Johnson, our PM, has been taken into intensive care and we're all faced with the horror of having Dominic Raab on the bridge, steering us towards the iceberg. There are, as we all know, many nobs in our country, most of whom have been panic-buying groceries, leaving our supermarket shelves empty of bog rolls and pasta. They've now moved on to ignoring the Government's social distancing rules, congregating in parks, cycling in packs and ramming themselves into crowded trains. The big worry is that the Government decides to intensify the lockdown and stop us from exercising out of the home. I sincerely hope this doesn't happen because I work from home all day and I need to get out and take some exercise. I've chosen to ride the bike, alone, every day. My 'week' runs from Tuesday to Sunday, I have one day of rest and this week I managed to cover 60 miles, roughly the equivalent of riding to the lakes twice. I'm going to step this up to 10 miles per day as the default setting, last week it was eight miles, the week before was six, but the weekend enabled me to up the mileage by 30 miles. While out my first ride of the weekend I noticed groups of Lycra monkeys flouting the rules and it made me angry.

Let's hope it passes over soon

And now here we are on week three of the lockdown. I have to say that I've gotten used to it. I wouldn't say I'm enjoying it, but I kind of know where I stand with it. I work from home during the day, I break for lunch, I sit in the garden enjoying the sunshine - because that's the worst thing, the weather is good and we can't take advantage of it.

Keep clear of your disease-ridden, scumbag neighbours and fellow shoppers

In many ways, I've stopped watching the news and media reports. It's the same as Brexit, once I get the gist of what's happening, there's no need to watch GMTV or listen to LBC and even if I do, I find I'm not really listening. Obviously there are spikes in the story, like Johnson heading for hospital, that make me sit up, but other than that the story is simple: a virus, a deadly virus, we're all in lockdown, it's going to get worse, the media are going over-the-top (as always) and need to be listened to with a large pinch of salt, the Government's daily press briefings are a sham, questions aren't answered, and let's make one thing absolutely clear: the current situation is nothing like the Blitz, nothing at all. Imagine how bad it would be if there were bombs dropping on your houses? Imagine rationing and having loved ones conscripted into the army, fighting overseas, think about V1s (doodlebugs) and V2s, gas masks, air raid shelters. I just wish the media would shut up going on about fucking Vera Lynn, I wish the Queen hadn't used the phrase 'we'll meet again' in her address to the nation. Where are the barrage balloons? No! It's nothing like the Second World War! Get over it!

Don't forget to buy out all the toilet rolls from your local supermarket

Like everybody, I want things to go back to normal, I certainly don't want them to get worse. We must not forget, however, that things aren't as bad as we think they are; the media (both mainstream and 'social') is behind the panic. They LOVE the virus! They're ramping up the hysteria and we're all buying it. And don't you hate the way they throw in the cute home videos of people stuck indoors, singing and 'making the most of it'? It's cringeworthy. I can't stand the way television news reporters have been forced to perfect their 'serious faces', a constant frown as they speak as if they have a migraine.

The important thing to remember is this: it will end!

The important thing to remember is this: it will end, sooner or later; it's not THAT bad. I mean, think what it would be like if the virus was airborne and not simply transferable from human to human. I suppose it would be a little more like the blitz as the media could compare the virus with German Heinkels or Stukas. Imagine not being able to go out into the open air for fear of catching the damn thing, so it's really nothing to get overly concerned about and that's why it's not worth listening too much to the media. Fine for a bit of light entertainment watching Piers Morgan lose his rag with some politician or Emily Maitlis being annoyingly right about everything. Fine to sit there watching the press briefing having a competition with your nearest and dearest about when those behind the lecterns are actually going to address the questions asked, or laughing at the ignorance of the Scottish chief medical officer who, in my opinion, should have lost her rag and instead of saying sorry to the nation, tipped over said lectern and told everybody to fuck off. "I'm going back to my country retreat, you miserable fuckers, I don't need the money, so piss off!

COVID-19: It can be fatal, but in 80% of cases, expect only mild symptoms

And please, keep that Fergus Walsh away from me. I can't stand him. He's so smugly overly knowledgeable about everything COVID-19 and he too is enjoying every minute of the pandemic. All we need to know is that it can be fatal for some people and that it's best to self-distance when out and stay indoors as much as possible. End of.

All I can say is thank the Lord for Amazon Prime. I'm now embarking upon Season 3 of the X-Files having already watched Seasons 1 and 2 and on that front alone, I'm enjoying the lockdown.

There's going to be a pink moon tonight, don't miss it!

* Photos courtesy of Pixabay.com

Lockdown, Part Four: Cycling clubs flout social distancing rules

Another beautiful day so I decided to get out on the bike again, alone, for some solitary exercise. This time I thought I'd ride 'the slow way' to the Tatsfield churchyard and I decided to take some tea with me. For those of you unfamiliar with this blog, there are two ways to reach the Tatsfield Churchyard from my place, the fast way along the B269 and the slow way following the country lanes that lead to Beddlestead Lane and beyond. The latter is harder and longer, but it stays away from the traffic.

The ride was wonderful, like yesterday, if not better, as yesterday I was on the 269. The sun was shining, the skies blue and once again I found myself feeling the freedom offered to me by a bicycle. The ride to and from the churchyard is roughly 17 miles there and back. It means that this week I've so far riden around 53 miles and there's still one day to go before I start on my third week. Last week my total was 36 miles. My plan is to ride six days per week, with one day off. Last week I had Sunday off, this week it was Friday.

On the roads, the occasional lone rider like myself would whizz past in the opposite direction and we would briefly acknowledge one another with a slight nod of the head and then continue on our way, although I've noticed that there's less politeness these days, people think that 'social distancing' also means not saying hello for fear of catching something. It doesn't really bother me except that I hate it when I've made the effort to shout 'alright!' or something and there's no response. I always think: 'rude bastard!'.

Tatsfield Churchyard, Sunday 5 April 2020...

When I reached the churchyard and had climbed the steps and walked through the gate, I was pleased to note there was nobody around and that I had a choice of around five or six wooden benches on which to sit. I chose the bench Andy and I normally use and then set about simply enjoying the moment. The only noise, give or take, was the sound of buzzing insects, other than that all was still and I soon realised that I should have brought with me some sandwiches, perhaps a newspaper and, of course, a radio. Had I done so, I'd still be there now. I did have a flask of hot water, some milk and a couple of teabags so it wasn't long before I was sitting there, alone, in the sunshine, listening to the sounds of nature and sipping tea from a bone china cup. Yes, a bone china cup. I noticed, however, that my flask was 'made in China' and that put a damper on things as it reminded me of the virus, something I'd forgotten up until that point.

And then, of course, I heard it. The dull murmur of the M25. Why, I started to wonder, were there so many cars on the road? They can't all be going to their local shops to buy food. Everybody's been told not to go out unless it's necessary, like shopping, but there's always a bunch of idiots that flout the rules and mess things up for everybody else. We're allowed to take exercise, alone, like I was doing, but what are people doing just driving around? They're probably the same people who buy all the toilet rolls and leave the shelves of supermarkets empty, they probably believe every word uttered by Boris Johnson and were certainly taken in by the message on the side of the bus during the Brexit campaign, a lot of them probably voted for the Brexit Party, I bet! They're also the sort of people that are likely to be calling the police to report their neighbours when they spot them venturing out for some reason or other. In short, they're cunts.

After my two cups of tea, I spent a little longer at the churchyard, chilling out and checking on a couple of the headstones that I could see from the bench I was sitting on. First there was Albert William Barton, born 3 February 1914 and died 7 September 1977, the Queen's Jubilee year. He was sharing the headstone with his daughter Gladys Jean Shrubb, known affectionately as Peggy. She was born on 18 March 1933 and died on 31 September 2014. I looked at the dates a little closer and realised that old Albert was only 19 when he became a father to Gladys. Underneath Gladys' name was an epitaph. "I've lived a good life and now I will have a good rest". I wondered why Albert had become a father so young, but then my attention was drawn to an adjacent grave, that of Walter "Wally" Simpson, born in 1936 and died 2015. He was sharing the stone with Ian Alexander Simpson, born 1963 and died 1976, at the age of just 13. Now that was tragic, I thought as I set about packing up and preparing for the ride home.

Back on the road with around 45 minutes left in the saddle - or at least that's what I thought at the time, it turned out to be 35 minutes - I was staggered to see a bunch of around 8-10 cyclists riding along and paying no attention to the social distancing rules imposed by the Government during the lockdown. It started to annoy me as, back in the churchyard, I had checked my iphone for news and noticed that the BBC was claiming that Health Minister Matt Hancock, aka Jiminy Cricket, was threatening to ban exercise out of the home unless the minority of people flouting the rules got their acts together. I couldn't spot the name of the cycling club (otherwise I would have reported them for sure) but they'd probably emerged from Beddlestead Lane and could have come from anywhere in South East London or they might have been local. Either way, I don't want a bunch of Lycra monkeys ruining my daily exercise. They were heading into Tatsfield Village where, if that was their stopping point, I'd imagine they would all be grouping together on the green or around the covered bus stop. There are probably people living in Tatsfield who notice them and are probably wondering, just like I wondered, why they were all together.

I put aside my anger for the ride home, which was very enjoyable. The good weather continued and the traffic was relatively light, although again I found myself wondering why there was a fair smattering of cars travelling along the 269 on, of all days, a Sunday. No pubs were open, nobody was allowed to visit other people so why so much traffic?

I'm hoping that Jiminy Cricket doesn't forbid solitary exercise outside of the home for the sake of a few idiots, although it has to be said that the UK has more than its fair share of idiots these days.

Lockdown, Part Three: 'We're all doomed!'

There used to be a time when, occasionally, I had a strange feeling of being doomed. I could never quite put my finger on it, but it was there, nagging away at me, but never quite revealing itself. I would wrack my brains trying to find out what it was that was making me feel depressed and feeling like people tend to feel when they've had a great weekend and realise they've got to go back to work where there's loads to do, but I couldn't. It was hard, feeling downbeat and not really being able to say it was for this reason or that, sometimes it was just the notion that we're all mortal beings, the human condition basically, we're all going to die one way or another, and as a result everything seemed so pointless, we never really own anything, even our houses, everything is transient, here today, gone tomorrow and yes, it was (and always will be) depressing. But everybody feels this way at some time in their lives, possibly on a regular basis, I know I do. Not all the time. Most days I'm pretty upbeat about things, but not right now.

This time, of course, I know what's nagging at me. It's the same thing nagging at everybody. The coronavirus, lock down, uncertainty, curtailed freedoms, lovely weather but something wrong with the world: ignore that sunshine, ignore the blossoms on the trees (once a sign of hope as we pull out of winter and head for summer). Not any more. Everything is tinged with a sense of foreboding. It's all a little unreal, but at the same time real. It's as if the old days of fun and laughter have passed and now we have little to look forward to. I used to feel this way about Brexit and the Tories and Boris Johnson, but that was slightly different, all that leaving the EU, Donald Trump and what have you, almost a comedy, but the Coronavirus is a horror movie because it's Russian roulette. Yes, 80% only suffer mild symptoms, but who's to say I'm in the 80%? I might be one of the unlucky few who succumb to the disease and end up in the ExCeL Centre, better make that the Nightingale Hospital, but it'll always be an exhibition centre to me. In fact, with all the exhibitions I've been to, there would be a tragic irony to find myself there dying and wondering what exhibition stands had previously occupied my death space.

Today, Saturday 4th April 2020 and I escape the misery of coronavirus...

But I live in hope, of sorts. I've always believed in my own immortality, foolishly, perhaps. I like to think that by stocking up on zinc and selenium and cod liver oil, not to mention grapes and blueberries, porridge and everything else I stuff down my throat, I'll somehow survive whatever life throws at me.

Everything has been turned upside down and that includes the cycling. Andy and I are riding alone these days. No more tea at the bus stop, no more laughing about this and that, no more moaning about the European Union or the media or anything. We ride alone and that's a whole new dynamic. Nobody to share tea with, nobody to ride with, nobody to share the pain of the hills.

Today, much later than normal, I headed out for Botley Hill. It was a beautiful day and, probably because there have been no planes in the sky and virtually no cars on the road, the air was fresh, the hedgerows fragrant and the skies blue. In short, it was truly the most wonderful day and as I rode out of Warlingham and into the sticks I felt good. It was almost as if there was nothing to worry about, no virus, nothing, and it made me realise the freedom offered by the bicycle. I was cycling alone so I wasn't breaking any rules, despite what Chris Boardman was telling everybody on Twitter, something about staying local. Well, I suppose Botley Hill is local, it's a 14-mile round trip and it only takes around 27 minutes to get from The Ridge to my front door, which ain't bad. There were other riders on the road, mainly Lycra monkeys, but only groups of two and they were, of course, social distancing themselves from one another. But it could have been a normal day, a normal time without the virus and that's what I loved most about it. The bike offered me the freedom to be out and about and outside of the confines of the house. Not that being at home has been bad. As I've said before, the key is having a routine and now that I'm cycling daily, after work is done, I have a routine. That and watching the X Files, listening to music.

But I digress, let's get back to the ride. The daffodils were out, the sun was shining, the roads were relatively empty and as I headed back down the 269 a weight had been lifted off my shoulders: the weight of the coronavirus. The bike, I realised, was my ticket to ride, to break away and take in the fresh air. I was on cloud nine, so much so that I Facetimed Andy when I reached The Ridge. We chatted for a while and then said goodbye. Both of us are looking forward to normality, but when it's coming back is anybody's guess. 

Lockdown, Part Two: "It's not that bad!"

It's week two of the lockdown and if I'm honest, it's not that bad. It's also week two of my daily cycling. Last week I rode six miles a day, with Sunday being my day of rest. Total mileage last week, and remember that my week runs from Tuesday to Monday, was 36 miles. Yesterday, which was day one of week two, saw me ride eight miles and the plan is to keep that up for the whole week. Sadly, today, I only managed to ride six miles so somewhere along the line and before next Monday, I've got to add two miles to one of my rides OR ride a six-miler on Sunday, which would make my total mileage for week two around 52 miles (that's four miles on top of what I was planning to do). Let's see how things go.

Cycling 52 miles in one week is good news. Slice that figure in half and it averages out as two 26-mile rides, so more than what I normally ride in a week when Andy and I are just riding at the weekends.

My plan with all this is to creep up the daily mileage to 10 miles, making 60 miles over the week which, give or take a couple of miles, is like cycling to the lakes twice. Whether I can take it above 10 miles per day is another story as that would likely involve riding to Botley Hill and back, daily, which would hike it up to 14 miles per day - not bad going if I can manage it.

The six-mile hill ride, as I've been calling it, is a pretty straightforward route. Along Ellenbridge, briefly on to Southcote, right on to Elmfield Way, left on Morley, right into Church Way, left in to Norfolk Avenue, follow the road round and up and then down, left into Arundel Avenue, down the hill and round and down and then left on to Ridge Langley, then a complete circuit and returning to Arundel Avenue where I turn right and cycle up hill, turning left into (ahem) Arundel Avenue (believe me it gets confusing) and then right on to Norfolk Avenue. I then ride up and down the hill, bear left and turn right on to Church Way, loop round the Morley/Arkwright roundabout and back up Church Way, turning left into Norfolk and repeating the route that takes me round Ridge Langley and back up and then down Norfolk until I emerge, for a second time, on Church Way, but this time I turn first left into Arkwright, then right on The Ridgeway, right on to Southcote, left on to Ellenbridge and home. Adding on another loop takes it to eight miles, although yesterday, on completion of the third lap, so to speak, I rode the length of Arkwright and turned right on to Hook Hill, following the road round, crossing The Ridgeway into Southcote and then left on Ellenbridge and home. Phew!

So tomorrow I've got to make up the lost two miles from today.

Andy finds a horse

While I've been doing my local rides, Andy's been pushing the envelope a bit, heading out to places like Westerham alone and finding horses on rides closer to home. I might well take a longer ride at the weekend.

On returning from one of my shorter rides I chill. At the moment I'm listening to David Gilmour's Rattle that Lock album, which is excellent. It's interesting how we've stopped watching television. Normally, when I get in from work, the television is on and it remains that way through to around 1030hrs when the news ends, it's just wallpaper really as there's rarely anything on the box that's worth watching. But now, we sit and listen to music, we chat, and the TV stays off until around 2200hrs when it might go on for the headlines, but the news is always the same, it's always about the virus and what is there to know, seriously? There's a virus, people are dying, the Government wants us to die, it hasn't really got it's act together, it's aiming to get us all infected and sod the old and infirm. What else is there to know? We're all at home until at least June, people are losing their livelihoods, it's all very boring, but strangely, the PM has the virus (really? Does he?). Similarly Jiminy Cricket, the health secretary, has it (Really?). Prince Charles had it! Oh, well, if he's had it, what's good for royalty is good for me! Quite frankly, I'm astounded that they clearly didn't take any real precautions.

People keep asking for 'clarity', now there's an over-used word in these troubled times. All you need to know is this: we're all in the shit, the Government isn't going to be much help and eventually it will be over and then all the nobs who voted for Boris will start praising him and likening him to Churchill. He's no Churchill, he's not even the Churchill Dog.

Once the headlines are over I switch on Prime and watch an episode or two of the X-Files and then I head for bed and the whole thing starts again, like now, I'm sitting here, I've just eaten breakfast (porridge with banana, blueberries and grapes, a cup of Earl Grey without milk and a peanut butter sandwich). Radio Four is on and they're talking about the virus. Not enough testing being done. I'd better get ready for work.

Lockdown, Part One: How come China can bring the world to its knees?

Working from home isn't as bad as I thought it would be; the key is discipline. The official hours are 0800hrs to 1600hrs, which is not normally my bag, but because I don't have to commute any further than my conservatory - or 'lean to' as a colleague who has never seen the vast, brick-built extension on the back of my house called it - the whole thing is bearable. I break for lunch at 1300hrs and when I return to my desk an hour later I know I've only got two hours before I can sign off and do something else.

The UK is in a kind of lockdown. We're not allowed outside unless we're going shopping for essential items, travelling to work that can't be done at home or taking some exercise. I tend to go out for the latter (the exercise) but on Thursday I headed for the shops where the store I visit is operating a one in, one out policy. Everybody's walking around keeping their distance from people as if to say "Keep away from me, you disease-ridden pile of shit!"

And then there's that problem surrounding hand washing. When I get back home from the store I hump the bags into the hall and then wash my hands, but hold on, if I now unload the bags I'm going to have to wash my hands again as I'm not sure how long the virus hangs around, and what about touching the light switch? Doh! I've got to wash them again. And what if I then to decide to open a loaf of bread and make a peanut butter sandwich? Doh! I've got to wash them again! And on and on it goes.

Not everybody's cup of tea, but I love them!

Around 1730 every day of this week except Monday I head out on what I call 'the hill ride'. It's a six-mile jaunt around suburban streets on the Rockhopper, but it's like a roller coaster: an initial climb and then a refreshing down-hill roller that keeps up the momentum until I'm half way around Ridge Langley. The bike banks over left like a Pendolino before reaching another incline and slowing down. I stand on the pedals to get me over the hill, but there's more to come as I turn right out of Ridge Langley and head uphill again. I ride two laps and then home for dinner.

Once dinner is over I settle down for the evening. I'm currently wading through Season 1 and 2 of the old X Files, watching two or three episodes every night accompanied by a Spiced Apple & Vanilla with Camomile and Passion Flowers tea. Yes, I know, it sounds a bit airy fairy, but for some time now I've enjoyed these teas and this particular variety, part of Twining's Sleep range, although I'm guessing it's the only variety in the Sleep range, is rather nice. The worse thing about fruit/herbal teas is that they smell better than they taste, but I've got used to them.

Invariably, I fall asleep, normally at the start of the third episode of the X Files and nothing to do with the programme as I love the X Files. When I wake up (I've normally been asleep for about 10 minutes or so) I lock up the house and go to bed, listening to LBC, and then the whole process starts again, except for today, which is Saturday, the end of week one of being at home. During the week people were encouraged to stand on their doorsteps clapping for the NHS, but I felt it was a bad idea as I didn't want to stand there clapping and looking like a cock. I still appreciate their efforts.

Andy and I have decided not to ride out together today or for the foreseeable future because of the lockdown. The rule is that you can go out with a family member, but if you meet a stranger en route you have to keep your distance. So we're thinking about riding alone to a specific destination where there's more than one bench, choosing a bench and staying apart, although we'll still be able to chat and drink tea. But not this week. Today it will be the hill ride for me and tomorrow, well, I'm not sure yet. Perhaps a ride to the churchyard. There's door painting to be done, but there's no rides to National Trust properties, no teashops or cafes, no walks along the beach, no idle drives into the Sussex countryside, no coffee and walnut cake, so thanks for that, China.

I've eaten porridge with bananas, blueberries and black grapes, had a slice of bread with peanut butter and an Earl Grey tea without milk. I'm sitting at the dining table with my laptop and it's a wonderful day for a ride. Had these been normal times, Andy and I would have been at the Tatsfield Churchyard by now, sipping tea and chatting about nothing in particular, just enjoying the vibe and watching out for a Spitfire that flies out of Biggin Hill alongside a light aircraft. They mosey around for a while and then I'd imagine they head back to base and that's normally when we pack up our stuff and head home along Clarks Lane, part company at The Ridge and say something like, "Same time tomorrow?" But that's all gone, for now, and the whole thing is annoying, depressing and, to a degree, angering.

What bugs me is this: how can China be allowed to bring the world to its knees like this? And why is the UK still allowing in flights from Beijing? How come nobody's talking about that? It looks as if the UK is being run by the Chuckle Brothers (Matt 'Jiminy Cricket' Hancock and that buffoon Boris Johnson). They're expelling a lot of hot air telling us all to practise social distancing, but then we hear that Boris and Jiminy have contracted the virus. Buffoon had been going around boasting about shaking the hands of people with Corona Virus. He might as well have made videos of himself licking toilet bowls and then posted them on Facebook. What a cock! Seriously. What a cock! And now he has the virus and I feel like uttering those immortal words of Michael Douglas in the movie Falling Down when he runs on to the golf course carrying his holdall full of guns or the rocket launcher, I can't remember which, and says to the pompous golfer suffering a heart attack, who had tried to hit him with a golf ball, "And now you're going to die, wearing that silly little hat".

Two rides to the Tatsfield Bus Stop...

Great weather! It's now light when I get up and light when I go out, so there's no need for (ahem) lights.

Vintage cars gather at the Botley on Saturday

We met at the green, as always, and headed, the slow way, for the Tatsfield Bus Stop. We didn't see that many Lycra monkeys and this was probably because of the (yawn!) Corona virus. I'm bored of it already, but I'd better get used to it as we now live in a one-news-story nation where the media simply focuses on one thing. For the last four years, it's been Brexit, and now it's the Corona virus. We reached the bus stop, drank some tea, moaned about the virus - why is it that we are being told that most people will only experience mild symptoms and yet the whole country is being shut down?  - and then we headed for home.

As I passed the Botley Hill pub I stopped to take a photograph of what looked like the beginning of a vintage car get-together. My phone (as always) was low on power and I didn't think this shot (above) had been taken, but it had.

Sunday was a carbon copy of Saturday, but I think the weather was slightly better. We sat at the bus stop chatting about the virus (again) and now I'm home, sitting in the living room, it's 1634hrs and the BBC news channel is on. Guess what they're talking about? Yes, you're right, the Coronavirus. We're all waiting for Bojo to put on his 'concerned look' (well-practiced frown) and address the nation. As I write this, he's probably looking into a mirror back stage and trying to get it right.

"Shut up, Dom! Don't make me laugh!"
"Did you get it, though?"
"Of course I got it! Have you seen the mess that snails make".
"You don't get it, do you?"
"Yes I do, now stop making me laugh!"
"Come on, Boris, you've perfected it, you're the great con artist remember, don't worry."
"I'm not worried. I'm more concerned about remembering your silly joke."
"Comb your hair!"

Voice of BBC producer.

"Prime Minister, we're ready for you..."

Johnson will be flanked by who? Probably the chief medical officer and the chief scientific officer.

In total we probably covered around 34 miles over the weekend.

Thoughts on the Coronavirus (or COVID-19)

It's hard to believe that the world is in the position it finds itself. The corona virus has turned daily life upside down. Countries in 'lockdown', transport services being cut, people (like me) working at home (the worst nightmare, blending work with home life or, worse still, allowing 'work' to intrude on one's personal life).

I keep temporarily forgetting about it, thinking that everything is alright, but then I remember and I immediately feel depressed about the situation.

The media love it, of course. It doesn't matter what channel or what time, they're talking about it constantly. New phrases have been introduced: 'self-isolate', 'social distancing' to name but two.

And let's face it, the corona virus is 100% a skiver's paradise. I wonder how many people out there have phoned in to say they are self-isolating? They're probably the same people who are busy buying up all the toilet rolls and pasta and leaving the supermarket shelves bare.

It's quite incredible the speed at which the virus has taken hold. At Christmas time nobody was even thinking about shutting the country down. In January it was still unheard of, similarly in February and early March. Yes, we knew that the Chinese were having problems with a virus that started in Wuhan, but because it was on the other side of the world it was a case of 'out of sight, out of mind'. But then slowly the reality began to dawn upon us. We probably acted far too late and were far too politically correct to simply close our doors to the Chinese. When I think back to it, we should have immediately stopped all flights from China, bugger political correctness, bugger whether or not we were causing offence, the doors should have been closed. Perhaps next time - and let's face it, there will be a next time - we will have learned from our mistakes.

What amazes me is the mess this virus has caused, the chaos, and I've started to wonder when people will start pointing the finger firmly at the Chinese and request some kind of compensation. I'm wondering whether Trump is planning some kind of revenge, some kind of punishment, perhaps stronger trade sanctions, I don't know, but surely the Chinese are not going to be allowed to simply get away with it. How many people are there quietly seething about what's going on and wondering whether those responsible will be pulled up on the matter?

I'm sure that, as always, the perpetrators (in this case the Chinese) will get off lightly, nothing will be said and we'll all be left smarting and feeling short-changed.

Right now, of course, it's only just kicking off. I wake up every morning without a sore throat or a cough, but for how long? I wash my hands around a dozen times a day, but I've yet to practice 'social distancing'. There's a two days on, three days at home roster at work from next week, my mum's 'self-isolating' for the next 12 weeks so there won't be any tea and cake unless I make it myself. Fortunately (for the time being) there's cycling. I'm looking forward to the weekend rides and I'm hoping that the weather won't lead to an abort text.

Woodmansterne Green and then over to mum's...

I was just about to leave the house when I noticed a text from Andy. He'd had a late night and had decided to abort. I sent a text back saying 'ok' and then I sat and wondered what to do? There were many options: don't bother going out, call Bon and arrange a meeting at Woodmansterne Green or ride alone to the Tatsfield Bus Stop or Westerham. All were appealing but I chose to call Bon. We met around 0815hrs and I rode the usual route through Purley and along the Foxley Lane, which has become flat land. They're building loads of apartment blocks, knocking down the big houses and making what was a very pleasant road look ugly and Croydon-like. Not good.

Bon, the Green, Sunday 15 March 2020

As I approached the Green I saw Bon riding towards me. We both continued to the Green and set up camp underneath Jean Merrington's tree. Out came the flask and the tea cups and then we wandered around chatting until about an hour later when we parted. I could have gone straight home, but thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and ride down to mum's. When I got there I had a cup of tea and a couple of slices of cake while we both watched the news about the corona virus. It's all very boring. The over-70's are going to be forced to 'self-isolate', probably next week and who knows what else will happen. I checked Croydon and according to the BBC website there's just one case. Well that's good. There's two in Sutton.

I can't help but think the whole thing is overkill. Apparently most people will experience only mild symptoms and don't forget, thousands die every year from 'normal flu'. Anyway, I'm not going to let it bother me. I'll leave all the fretting and worrying to everybody else. Who are the idiots who are panic buying? And why toilet rolls? It's not as if it's an arse-related illness. And why pasta? If people eat too much pasta they'll find themselves constipated. That toilet roll won't be needed and they'll start to wish they'd bought a pallet of Senokot too.

I rode back from mum's through Wallington, skirting Beddington Park and riding down towards Five Ways and through the council estate, on to the Brighton Road, left into Upland Road and right on to the Selsdon Road, hanging a right on Carlton, a left on Essenden and a right on to West Hill. In total I must have covered around 15 miles.

Sussex Road, South Croydon on the way home, Sunday 15 March 2020

When I got home I made another 'English' breakfast, this time fried egg, toast, mushrooms, tomatoes and onion and it was perfect. Now I'm just chilling and wondering what the week will bring. There's talk about working from home, which would suit me, I'll get more done without the distraction of work colleagues and, of course, I'll save a fortune on fares and lunches. But nothing's been said yet and if I'm honest I prefer to work in an office. I don't like it when the line between work and home life is blurred.

The bike's been behaving fine, but I think I'm going to need a new front brake pad soon. The bike needs a clean too, but that can wait a week or two.

When I wake up around 0600hrs, it's light outside, and today the weather was warm enough to dispense with the balaclava, although I like the comfort it offers. It's a bit grey outside, but there's no rain.

Tatsfield Bus Stop, twice!

Two rides to the Tatsfield Bus Stop and they were both great. On Saturday, the weather was good. We met on the green as always and headed towards our destination having a bit of a moan about the way the media are treating the Coronavirus (basically over-reacting). Why is it that if most people are only going to experience mild symptoms, to the extent that some people won't even know they've got the virus, why is it that there is talk of closing schools, bringing in the army, having no-go zones, people working from home, football matches being played 'behind closed doors' and so on? It does, of course, provide world governments with a great excuse for everything as, indeed, it does for the man in the street. Skivers must be loving it, they can calmly announce that they're 'self-isolating' and have two weeks off work. Companies can fire people willy nilly and blame it on the virus, under-performers can blame their incompetence on the virus and so on. Boris Johnson, of course, can blame the virus for continued austerity, which will probably kill more people. The whole thing, quite frankly, is utterly ridiculous. Why is it that the Government is happy to say that around 100,000 people could die when Italy, which is in the thick of it, hasn't had THAT many casualties? But of course, it's not really the Government that is the problem, it's the media claiming, for example, that Coronavirus deaths in the UK have doubled  - to two!

Daffodils on the roadside at Warlingham

When we reached the bus stop we enjoyed two excellent cups of tea courtesy of Twining's English Breakfast tea and a brand new flask, purchased from Robert Dyas during the week. We needed one, the old Stanley, caked with limescale and weighing (as it always had) a tonne, was getting a little old, the water quality (I think) was poor, we were getting funny-tasting tea, so a new flask was the order of the day. The tea was fresh too, straight out of the Co-op and opened at the Bus Stop. Wonderful!

Sunday was similar, although it was pouring down when I woke up at 0600hrs so I aborted, only to reinstate the ride half an hour later. We agreed to meet at 0745hrs and then repeated Saturday's ride, talking as we went about the virus and then enjoying more excellent tea when we reached the bus stop.

My bike needs a good clean. It's smattered and spattered with mud from the wet weather we've been contending with, the storms and what have you. I won't bother just yet because there will be more rain, more deep puddles and muddy pathways to deal with. Even today, as I rode along the off-road path I encountered a stretch of thick mud. While I tried to ride through it, it proved impossible, the bike sludged to a stop and I had to dismount and push the bike through. Thicker tyres might have got me through. Then there's my front brake, it needs looking at. But right now I think I'll keep it oiled and that's about it, although I'm not going to let things slip. It's important to fix things as they happen rather than let them build up until there's loads of stuff to be done.

On the way back it rained hard. I'd just said goodbye to Andy at The Ridge and down it came. I got soaked. But then the sun came out and I dried off as I rode along the off-road path, reaching home around 0945hrs. I'm dry now, well, almost. I'm not wearing socks and I'm about to head over to mum's (in the car). I know for a fact that a chunk of fruit cake awaits me, although I might take one of my sweet orange Tazo teas with me as I've been drinking miles too much 'normal tea', although I'm thinking why bother, there's nowt wrong with black tea even if there is a bit of caffeine to contend with.

Outside the sun is shining, the skies are blue and there are, believe it or not, blossoms on the trees. When I leave to ride to the green in the morning I don't need my lights and soon the clocks are going forward and summer will arrive.