A few thoughts on the past week...

I've slowed down on writing for this blog and put it down to writing 'other stuff'. With lockdown it's fair to say that nothing much has happened. I've been working from home for most of the day, I throw in a walk at lunch time and then after work, which is around 1630hrs, I might go for a ride on the bike. The week before last I managed 81 miles. This past week just 22 miles, but that was deliberate. For some reason I was tired and thought I'd give it a miss, which I did. I should have gone out on Saturday, to Westerham, but instead I slobbed around and didn't ride again until Sunday when I met Andy in the Northern Kent market town. Our habits are changing. For a start, we only meet once a week, on a Sunday, but we also meet at our destination rather than at Warlingham Green and now there's a new habit: not bringing tea along on the ride. For the past God knows how long I've been humping a huge Stanley flask of hot water all the way to wherever we're going, but over the past few weeks that flask is now staying in the house. Instead, a large English breakfast tea and an almond croissant and a cappuccino and almond croissant for Andy.

But nothing else has changed. Our conversations are still in good shape. In the past fortnight we've discussed Harley Davidson motorcycles, mainly because a whole bunch of them turn up and park outside the Costa. Andy doesn't like them. I do like them. Andy says they're old man's bikes. They are. Harley riders invariably have grey hair and beards or no hair and beards and they all wear the uniform, trying to look like hard men and that's where the problem arises. They're not in America and that, of course, is the issue. You have to be in America to ride a Harley in my opinion. Over here they look out of place. Andy's other gripe is that technologically they're pretty much old hat and they're heavy and, he says, the engine and gear box are separate. Andy says they've missed a trick and that their demographic is old blokes, they're not appealing to younger riders. Andy says he'd get a Royal Enfield if he did buy a bike again. Me? I like the Harley, I'm afraid. I'd probably spend more time polishing it than riding it, but I'd have an 883 Hugger with buckhorn bars. I like 'the traditional Harley rumble' and that's really it: I want to make a lot of noise on a highly polished motorcycle.

Not quite finished, I still had a lot of raking to do and the edges

Last Sunday we discussed something a little more boring: social media, well, Linkedin specifically and who knows what we'll be discussing this coming Sunday, which is still a way off (I'm writing this on Tuesday 13 April). Yesterday I went back to the office for the day, working from 0800hrs to 1700hrs with a half hour lunch break. Today I'm back home again and will be for the next fortnight and then I return to the office for a day and things will go on like that until the lockdown eases completely. It was good to be back in the office and I managed to get a fair bit of work done, which was good and when I left I felt good, which was something.

I'm still watching movies on Prime every night, sometimes two movies a night. It's an escapism thing. I'm trying to escape the monotony of everything, which is hard. I'm largely watching indie movies, American indie movies, but I've also watched a few mainstream movies too, like The Intern with Robert De Niro and Anne Hathaway and Bucket List with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. It all amounts to the same thing: escapism. I sit there with my camomile tea and then hit the sack some time between 2300hrs and 2330hrs.

Our blossom tree is in bloom...

Weatherwise, things are improving. We're now operating on British Summer Time, there are blossoms on the trees and the weather is warming up, although, having said that, as I drove to work yesterday (12 April 2021) there were blizzard conditions. It snowed hard for most of the morning and stopped by lunch time. On Sunday (11 April) I managed to mow my rear lawn and managed to get it all done before the snow hit, which was good going. It's trimmed and so are 'the edges' and it's looking good. Mowing the lawn will be a major part of my life now until October. I don't mind doing it if the weather's pleasant, but we'll need a new mower one of these days.

And hopefully cycling will also start to pick up a little. The bike is fine and I've been enjoying the rides both with Andy on Sundays and alone midweek. The VeloBarn has reopened but apparently you have to log on with the test and trace app and all that mularkey so I'm avoiding it and sticking with Costa or the Tudor Rose in Westerham, the latter open for takeaways on a Saturday morning.

Not much else to report at the moment.

Land of Confusion - post jab ramblings...

I had my jab today. I should have had it last week, but after waking up on the day of my initial appointment to news that there were problems with the Astra Zeneca vaccine I simply didn't bother. But then, as the week progressed and my general powerlessness led to me rebooking it, I started to feel a little aggrieved about life in general, or certainly life in general at this present time. The world, it seems, is full of contradictions. Why is it, for example, that the last thing on the agenda of the World Health Organisation is the world's health? They're in the pockets of the Chinese, arguably the worst nation in the world. Or perhaps we ought to make that not the people of China but the awful regime that is governing them. Look at what they're doing: persecuting the Uyghers, clamping down on the freedoms of the good people of Hong Kong, executing thousands of their own people every year, probably on dubious evidence and let's not forget COVID-19. And have you noticed how, if somebody phones into to a radio channel, like LBC, they're given short shrift if they have the audacity to ask whether or not anybody is going to take China to task over the virus? Why is it that anybody showing any anti-China feelings are immediately shut down? I worry. I worry that this whole fiasco, this whole 'bringing the world to its knees', could happen again unless somebody talks tough to the Chinese, and I get the feeling that nobody will do anything. I've even heard that idiot Boris Johnson say stuff like, "When this happens again" or words to that effect and it annoys me how people, the media, whoever, try to normalise things that shouldn't be normalised. They tried it with acid attacks a few years ago, offering advice on 'what to do if' somebody attacks you with some acid. No! The plan should be to stop acid attacks, not accept them as par for the course.

20-mile ride to Westerham yesterday

So, thanks to the Chinese - unless somebody knows any different - I trotted off to a shopping centre in Sutton to have my jab and it was all done well and I have no complaints, not with the NHS, they're brilliant, and it's a shame they're under so much pressure on the front line of the whole thing. The truth of the matter is that I haven't had a 'jab' since I was 14 and that was my BCG at school. I remember that, standing in line with Robert Silcox and feeling a little apprehensive about the needle. In truth, I was a baby, but not today, those days are long gone. It's amazing how people change. I'm not so much frightened of jabs these days, but more concerned about after effects and having to subject my body to something that I could have avoided if the Chinese had been a little more picky about what they're putting in they're mouths. 

The jab was fine and now I'm home, it's just gone 7pm and I'm listening to Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits. Amazing when you consider that I was listening to it many, many years ago, something like 1978, when it was first released... and it's still good.

So, anyway, the world being full of contradictions. What about when the personnel department switched to being 'human resources'. When it was 'personnel' you knew that the personnel manager was on your side, but when it switched to 'human resources' it quickly switched and it didn't take employees long to realise that human resources were not on their side, they were firmly behind 'the man', the company, the bastards that were trying to fire them. Never trust 'human resources', never think that they're on your side, they only have the company's best interests at heart, not yours!

Another contradiction is 'communications managers'. Don't for one minute think they're there to communicate to the masses through the media; they're there to communicate THEIR messages to the media, and that's it, they're the sentries on the gate for many a frustrated journalist trying to interest them in an article or a quote or a speaking slot at a conference.

The best way to think these days is in reverse. Whatever you're told, think the opposite and you'll be nearer the truth of the matter. Think of the worst possible thing that might happen and that'll be it: Brexit, Trump in the White House, Boris Johnson in Number 10, another virus from the Chinese. Who knows what's going on and how 'in cahoots' they all are; perhaps the conspiracy theorists are right, or half right, perhaps the whole virus thing is an exercise in reducing the global population, perhaps they're all in it together, sitting around a huge oak table agreeing that the Chinese would have to be the fall guys. "You okay with that, Xi?" Who knows? "Oh shucks, guys, me, the bad guy? Not again, surely."

And then, of course, there's the big distraction: Meghan Markle. Well, it turns out she has been 'economical with the truth' saying she got married privately before the big public shindig, when the reality was the complete opposite and they've been forced to admit they were telling an untruth. "Can we believe anything they say?" asks today's Daily Mail. No, I don't think so. Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase 'bad actors', doesn't it? But enough of poor actors - alright, let's stick with bad, or even 'piss poor' - we can do without having to listen to what they have to say. I'm listening to The Passenger by Iggy Pop and you could say I'm 'multi-tasking' as I'm thinking about what to listen to next and I'm writing what you're reading. I'm finding myself driven towards what I would call euphoric songs, like U2's Where the Streets have No Name, Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen and so forth. Perhaps I'm trying to ward off any possible after effects of the jab with triumphalism, the amphetamine rush of crashingly good music. I remember being in Philadelphia recently when they were organising the city marathon and there was a live band performing Born to Run, loud and in the street, it was fantastic! One of those moments that bring a tear to the eye.

We're on the second lockdown now and there's rumour of a third wave and yet nobody is talking about China. Nobody. And if you mention them in a bad light, well, the likes of Nick Ferrari on LBC will be on your case, shutting you up, but I've already talked about this. Perhaps I'm coming to the end of this rant. Yesterday I did a 20-mile bike ride into Westerham as the sun was setting in the west. I figured I'd better get some miles under my belt in case I get laid up with the after effects of the jab. I've done something like 44 miles in total this week and if I can get out on Saturday then I might manage something like 64 miles, who knows? Whatever. Now there's a word people use a lot these days and I can understand why. Whatever! Who cares! Do as you please, I don't give a monkey's. We're all powerless in the greater scheme of things so just get on with your life, doing what makes you happy and don't listen to the arseholes, there are plenty of them around. They're everywhere! A lot of them are in power, one of them runs the UK, another one used to run the USA and let's not get started on those in charge of China. I'd like to live in Iceland or Finland and failing that I'd like to live in New Zealand where at least you know the PM has the interests of her people at heart. I don't know, these days I seem to be constantly annoyed about something or someone. Lockdown must be getting to me in some way or other even though I seem to be able to handle it. The first lockdown saw me riding 100 miles per week, the second one, well, the colder weather meant less mileage, but now that things are moving a little and the blossoms are on the trees I'm starting to up the mileage again. This week, the last three rides I did were all to Westerham, that's three 22-mile rides. I went on Saturday, Sunday and yesterday (Tuesday) and tonight I'm going to relax in the only way I know how at the moment: watching movies on Prime. Some are good, some are bad, but it's escapism and that's what I need more than anything else right now. I could do with the sea too. But we're not allowed to drive out of our local area, not that I've heeded that law! On the bike I'm regularly riding 20 miles into the sticks, alone, to drink cappuccino on a village green and munch on a Bakewell tart. At weekends I often visit National Trust properties where a walk is often followed by coffee & walnut cake. Land of Confusion is on now, Genesis. I love the middle eight on this track - "I remember long ago, when the sun was shining" - seems to sum it up nicely.

Dinner's nearly ready, pesto with pasta, just what the doctor ordered, and soon the music will have to stop, which will be a shame. Hold on, though, Chuck Berry's just started, No Particular Place to Go, perfect. Another apt lyric, "No particular place to go...".

I'm slowly going mad...

I feel I have to say that I agree wholeheartedly with Piers Morgan on the issue of Harry and Meghan and their interview with Oprah. I can't believe that anybody seriously believes that they are in any way hard done by! I also can't believe that anybody who has been handed such wealth on a plate could be in any way suicidal or, indeed, mentally ill. I've just finished reading a book by Chris Atkins entitled A Bit of a Stretch, which describes his time inside HMP Wandsworth. In the book, Atkins writes that a lot of the people behind bars in the UK are mentally ill and I can believe that, but I can't believe the hard luck story of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex.

A sign seen in Grove Park, Carshalton...

What I find particularly ungratifying about their story is that here we all are in lockdown, many people are holed up in tiny apartments, many more have died or are dying of this awful virus and yet they (Harry and Meghan) are moaning about their lot. How can they sit there in their luxury mansion in the California sunshine, not having to worry about money in any shape or form and moan about their lot?

Their criticism of the British press is not only wrong, but unfounded. Nobody seems to remember that the main reason behind media attacks on the couple are based not on racism, but on the hypocrisy of the Royal couple: flying to climate change meetings in a private jet, knowingly wearing gifts from a murderous dictator who not only ordered the killing of a prominent Washington Post journalist, it is alleged, but is also responsible for atrocities in the Yemen.

Starting every morning like this...

We must also look at reports on the way Meghan Markle has allegedly treated her own family. She has, it is claimed by royal observers, alienated herself from her father and siblings and now, of course, she's doing the same for Harry and his family. And yet, there are people who don't see it. They have blind faith in the couple and won't have anything said against them. For heaven's sake, wake up!!! The argument is divided along racial lines because Meghan is identifying as 'a woman of colour', which immediately brings in to play 'the racist card'. You can't really say "Is it because I'm white" to answer what you might regard as a racially-motivated injustice, but to say, as Ali G used to in jest, 'is it coz I's black?" provides bags of scope to turn an argument on its head and brand those against you as racist. 

I've never believed in political correctness or 'wokeness' and I can't stand it when I hear people say, "You can't say that." Invariably, you can express your opinions on anything you want because we live in a free country (here in the UK) and we shouldn't be frightened by the 'woke' brigade. 

The UK is not a racist country. Yes, there are racist incidents, of course they are, just look at the so-called 'beautiful game', but you get racist situations in every country. If the UK is so racist why is it that people from African nations, and elsewhere in the world, are jumping into flimsy dinghies, risking their lives and making their way across the often choppy seas of the English Channel 'for a better life'?

The daffodils are out!!!

I wouldn't say that I was a royalist. I'm not one of those people who waves flags and buys commemorative mugs, I didn't even watch the Oprah interview on Monday night (I went to bed and listened to Radio 3). But that said, I don't think the Royal Family is racist. I agree with Meghan's old man on the issue of Archie's skin colour, when he suggested on television last week that an alleged remark made by an unnamed member of the Royal Family was probably just a dumb question.

For me, the biggest disappointment is that people are taking the Duke and Duchess too seriously, they're believing them because the racist card and, dare I say it, the mental health card, have been played to great effect, and now we have countless people from various charities bolstering their damaging claims about the Royal Family around the world. I'm looking forward to the moment when we all forget about them and they drift off into the obscurity they deserve.

Everything is grating with me, pissing me off, making me angry. First there was Brexit, which went on and on; then there was Trump and then Boris Johnson, and the fact that he's now our Prime Minister makes everything much worse. And then there is the virus, thanks to the Chinese. I suppose it's considered racist to blame the Chinese, but that was where it came from, that wet market in Wuhan. It's also annoying to note that nobody's doing much to ensure that such a travesty, disaster, fiasco, tragedy, whatever you want to call it, doesn't happen again. Add up all this crap and that's what's annoying me, along with a few other things. I sleep badly, I'm angry all the time and I kind of exist on a knife edge waiting, perhaps, for somebody to piss me off, worried about how I'm likely to respond. Somewhere along the line I'm going to explode with an expletive-laden tirade of effing and blinding at some poor person who challenges me on some issue or other, but let's get it out there: I voted remain, I think Brexit is a disaster for the country, I can't stand Boris Johnson and his Master Race haircut and his bumbling buffoonish manner, I'm not going to shy away from the fact that the Chinese are to blame for the global lockdown and all the unnecessary deaths caused by the COVID-19 virus, I can't stand the way they have tried to cover their tracks, or what they're doing in Hong Kong or their treatment of the Uighers. I'm glad Trump is out of power and that Biden won and I long for normality. All of this has certainly had a negative effect on my mental health and I find myself escaping by listening to Radio 3 and watching movies nightly, anything to take my mind off of the shite that is being slung at everybody. I don't trust the Government, I certainly don't trust the Chinese, and I'm so glad I have a push bike to keep me fit. Today I rode to Westerham in Kent and in total this week I have covered something like 60 miles, more than last week, but less (by around 10 miles) than the week before last.

Great food always available

I've got my jab on Monday. Can't say I'm looking forward to it. I feel a little aggrieved that I have to have it, but I'm not an anti-vaxxer.

And of course, let's remember Sarah Everard whose body was found in woodland in Kent this week following her murder, for which a policeman, Wayne Couzens, has been charged. What the hell happened? My sympathy goes out to Sarah's family.

And what's happening in Myanmar? The military have taken over (again) and now they're shooting (and killing) protestors who simply want to live in a free and fair, democratic country. 

There's nothing worse than injustice.

Oh, and lastly, not sure if I mentioned it in my last post, but my bike is fixed. The gear cable snapped so I got it fixed at Cycle King AND had a new tyre and inner tube fitted.

Night riding...

The week started well with a ride to Tatsfield village to meet Andy. We did what we always do: sat and chatted, this time about fitness. Andy's lost a lot of weight through cycling daily (and doing 80 press-ups per day) and I have to say that I haven't been so consistent, although I'm keeping it up generally, riding about three times per week, but not going out if it's raining. I mean, who wants to get wet? It's good to get a neat little 18.03 miles in at the start of the week as it lessens the burden midweek, and fortunately, the weather has improved considerably. 

Tatsfield Churchyard at dusk...

During the week I managed three rides, two local 10-milers and then a slightly mad dash to Tatsfield village on Friday night. I left the house around 1645hrs and headed off, the slow way, not really thinking about what I was going to do; the first option was the Washpond Womble, then I thought about a Sline's Oak Sloth, but that would have meant riding along the 269 at dusk, which would have been a little dangerous. So I was heading around the lanes towards St Leonard's church and decided to head the slow way towards Tatsfield village. The original plan had been to turn left on Clarks Lane and keep going until I reached the churchyard and then I was going to head through the village, come out on Approach Road and then head home via Woldingham. Instead, I turned left on Clarks Lane and then left on to Approach Road and did it in reverse and, when I reached the churchyard it was dusk and the gravestones were silhouetted against a red sky so I stopped to take a photograph, forgetting that my awful iphone is a one trick pony and if, while Strava is ticking away I decide to take a photograph, well, the phone packs up, which it did and never even recorded the ride. Par for the course with an iphone (or my one at any rate). As I rode back along Clarks Lane towards Botley Hill the aforementioned red sky, already low in the sky, sunk behind the horizon and it night time. I still had to ride along The Ridge towards Woldingham and I noticed how dark it was with just my one headlight, which barely illuminated the tarmac in front of me. I started to wonder about potholes. If there were any, I wasn't going to see them in time, but the worst part of night riding along narrow country lanes was when a car passed me, first illuminating everything, but then plunging me into darkness, and each time my eyes had to re-acclimatise and I was basically riding blind. If was better when a car approched from behind as it would light up the road ahead and then provide guidance, until it disappeared completely, with its rear lights.

Cycling at dusk, however, was magical. Earlier, as I made my way along Beddlestead Lane, there was a wonderful, earthy smell in the still air and a silence that made me feel really good. It's hard to put a finger on it, but there was nothing, no noise, that evocative country smell, the empty fields, the hedgerows and the tweeting of the birds; and, of course, I started to imagine myself cycling along looking for a place to camp wild for the night. I looked into empty fields and considered spots that looked secluded enough to keep me out of harm's way. As the light faded I realised that had I been sleeping rough that night, it would be around now that I'd be looking to pitch my tent and settle down for the night before the darkness made it impossible.

A full moon as the light begins to fade en route to Tatsfield

 
I sailed through Tatsfield and followed the road around to the churchyard and, as you know, the phone packed up when I reached the churchyard. After Woldingham it was Slines Oak Road and that steep hill at the end of it. Riding down Slines Oak Road from Woldingham was a little dodgy. Night had fallen, there were no street lights, the road was fairly narrow and there were plenty of concealed driveways to make a cyclist's life a nightmare. The cars coming the other way temporarily blinded me and as a result I had to slow right down to avoid a potential accident. I started to worry about punctures too. What if, I wondered. The thought of fixing a puncture in the dark focused my mind and fortunately nothing untoward happened, but I imagined trying to see properly in the dark and dealing with a rear wheel puncture. No, I thought, if it happened I'd phone for a lift and fix it later, but it didn't happen and when I was back on the 269 and then the Limpsfield Road all was well. I rode around Warlingham Green and headed for home, noting that wearing the parka limited my ability to turn and see what traffic was behind me. Add the darkness and, well, you can see that nothing is clear cut when you're riding in the dark. My rear vision problem was largely caused by the threat of losing balance when turning my head around to see what was coming behind, but take daylight away it becomes a little more problematic, so to turn right at the curry house and head towards to church meant stopping the bike and then waiting for the many blinding headlights to cease or at least present a gap that would enable me to cross. Once in the side roads it was fine and I rode towards and then down Church Way, a fast downhill but little in the way of traffic. I reached home just before 1900hrs and had been on the road for around two hours, so an easy 20 miles. 

On Saturday I rode to Woodmansterne Green to see Bon. It's a route I hadn't taken for many months and I know why: It's not exactly very scenic and on the ride along Foxley Lane the amount of flats being erected depressed me, but we met and chatted and wandered around and then I headed home. Unfortunately, as I pedalled along the Croydon Road towards Purley I noticed that my gears wouldn't change, it was something to do with the lever on the handlebars, which clicked up and down, but nothing happened. Stupidly, I didn't think (initially) to change down to the lowest front crank using the lever on the left hand side of the bars. This I eventually did, making the hills a lot easier. Now, of course, I have to arrange a visit to the bike shop, which is more trouble than it's worth these days. Phones ring and ring and nobody answers and, of course, the excuse is ready made: COVID. Fortunately, I can ride it so today's ride to see Andy is still on the cards.

Woodmansterne was just 10.78 miles, not my usual 20-plus miles, but I still tipped 70 miles this week, which was the most I've achieved in a long while, the average falling around 50 miles, so I'm happy, sitting here on a Sunday morning, having woken up early and had breakfast around 0545hrs. Now it's 0744hrs, time to make the tea and head off to Tatsfield village to meet Andy.

I managed around 45 miles this week...

There's really no point in listening to the media, certainly where the weather is concerned. They rarely get it right and they big up the bad weather so that people like me think twice about going out on the bike. Saturday past is a good example of this: the weather people were talking about Saturday being an awful day so I was thinking that I wouldn't bother going out on the bike and I decided to go out on Friday afternoon to boost my mileage. Without looking I think I managed to take my total to 50 miles, based mainly on local 10-milers. When I woke up on Saturday 6 February I had the mindset of not going out, but when I looked out there was no rain. Alright, it was a bit cloudy, bolstering the weatherman's agenda about Saturday being a bad day, so instead of getting off my arse and heading out around 0800hrs for Westerham, I slobbed around assuming that it would rain any minute. It didn't. In fact, the weather improved and around mid-morning I was starting to wish I'd taken a ride to Westerham as that would have meant a total of 70 miles. In the end I sneaked in another local 10-miler taking my weekly total to 60 miles, which ain't too bad.

Looking out of the window on Sunday morning, 7 February, I had the feeling that snow was on the way. It was 0730hrs. By 0800hrs it was snowing so I aborted my planned ride with Andy who agreed wholeheartedly that it was pretty horrible out there. It remained horrible for the whole day as a kind of drizzly snow fell constantly and nobody went out. It was boring and it brought home to me the boredom of everything, like lockdown. And now they're saying the vaccine doesn't work as well as we all thought. Well, there's a surprise!

Snow and cold weather...

The week remained cold. All week. So cold I never ventured out, not even for a walk, let alone a ride. It wasn't until Monday this week, 15 February, yesterday, that things changed and the temperature rose. Yesterday, I did a local ride, my 10-miler, the Super Nobbler, but while I was planning to repeat it today, Tuesday 16 February, the chance never arose as I worked later than expected and then decided to take a walk instead. As the walk finished there were spits of rain, and it was dark, which put paid to any thoughts I had of riding into the early evening.

And now it's Wednesday 17 February and I haven't loo ked at the weather. In fact, I'm taking things as they come, it's the best way. My intention will be to take a ride around 1630hrs, the usual 10-miler, but let's see. I woke up this morning around 0400hrs and stayed in bed until 0534hrs when I realised I wasn't going to fall asleep. When I got downstairs I put on Radio 3, it's on now, but had a little break from it when I decided to watch a Panorama programme on anti-vaxxers, as they're known. While I get where they're coming from (I mean who can you trust these days?) I will be taking the vaccine when it's offered. Mum's had it, she's 91, and it's not adversely affected her so what's to worry about? I like people who go against the received wisdom, but there are those who simply shout 'fake news' just because Trump fostered distrust in his position as leader of the free world. To cry 'fake news' is very Trumpian, or Trump-like, but now, thankfully, he's been deposed, he's out of office, and the world is a better place. Most of the people pedalling anti-vax sentiments are slightly odd and, as the Panorama programme pointed out, a lot of the doctors in a video that's been doing the rounds have been discredited in some way or other, it's just that the people prepared to listen to them can't be bothered to find out more about the people who telling them not to take the vaccine. Well, Panorama did it for them and if you get the chance, watch the programme on iPlayer, it's only 29 minutes of your time and well worth it I would say. Or is it? My problem with everything since Brexit started back in 2016 is that we now live in a pretty black and white, cut and dried world where the gist of the stories doing the rounds lack complexity. Do you need to watch it? Probably not. Basically, there are people who don't believe in taking the vaccine, that's the story, these people exist, some might say they're stupid, others might agree with them, that's the story, so now you know, don't waste 29 minutes of your time. And everything at the moment seems to be of the same ilk: straightforward, not hard to understand, you either believe it or you don't and nobody cares either way. That's why I'm listening to Radio 3 because basically there's two sides to an argument these days and that's it, you're either with us or against us, a Brexiteer or a Remainer, Republican or Democrat and you're always right, don't forget that too, it's you against those who don't agree with you and they're wrong, all of them, and because of that you hate them.

It's Thursday and the weather's been great. I took a walk at lunch time, but considered a short ride. The walk seemed the best bet as there was work to do, and eating. Some cottage pie was left over so I heated it up and wolfed it down, then it was time for my 25-minute walk, make that 30 minutes, just over. At around 1630hrs I jumped on the bike and did another Super Nobbler (10 miles). I've now riden 20 miles this week, not brilliant, but if I get out tomorrow as well that'll be 30 miles and then there's Saturday, so I could be on track for a 50-mile week, which ain't bad in these days of crap weather.

And so it's Friday and I hear the weekend weather is going to be good, or so they say. I'll be out later today hopefully, on another 10-mile Super Nobbler (any more than two laps becomes tiresome). That's going to take my mid-week total to a disappointing 30 miles, but with the prospect of a ride to Westerham it'll be bumped up to 50 (as I saidW in the previous paragraph).

Westerham Saturday 20 February

I tell you what's got on my nerves this week: Facebook's behaviour in Australia. I really hope that people turn a page on the social media site and find an alternative. I gave up Facebook within six months of signing up to it and the more I hear about it, I'm glad, so glad, that I turned my back on it. I'm on Twitter, but that seems alright, give or take. The key is not to get obsessive.

Saturday and the weather turned. Light blue skies and feathery cloud in the morning so I rode to Westerham and back, approximately 22 miles and warm all the way. I followed the usual route but branched off along Pilgrims Lane and then back up the usual hill after a large cappuccino and an almond croissant. A fantastic ride, bringing my total mileage to around 45 miles. Not the respectable 60 I was hoping for, but then you can't have everything. It was a good way to end my cycling week. On Sunday Andy and I are meeting at Tatsfield Village, giving me a good head start on mileage for the week ahead.

Carrying on with the local rides...

Yesterday I went out in the rain, but because I was wearing my 'parka' and hadn't bothered to put on my waterproof trousers, I spent an hour in the wet and was fine when I got back home. By that I mean I wasn't in the usual state I find myself after a 'soaking' and that was because I hadn't donned the waterproof clothing. Had I done so I would have been soaked through from a mixture of sweat, rain and, of course, the fact that when something is supposed to be waterproof, it invariably isn't.

I baked two fruit cakes last week

My shorter rides have continued and I've slightly widened their scope so that each lap is just over five miles and if I do two laps (which is always what I do) then it's something like 10.70 miles, perfect. The aim, of course, is to ride five Super Nobblers (as they're called). Why Super Nobblers? Well, to be fair the original Super Nobbler was three laps of the conventional circuit, but I'm only riding two of the 'new' Super Nobbler because it's been widened out and includes Sanderstead Hill (the B269 no less). Although, in reality, it should be called the Super Nobbler (Intermediate) as it's two laps, not three.

The only thing about laps is boredom. Whenever I do the Super Nobbler (Intermediate) I wince slightly at the thought of having to ride two laps, but the ride itself is fine; there are hills and dips and yesterday I started to wish there was less in the way of downward hills, preferring, oddly, the hills. I ride up West Hill twice, that's quite tough, I ride up Sanderstead Hill twice and that's quite tough too, and let's not forget Norfolk Avenue. And the reason it's called the Nobbler is because the ride takes me the length of Norfolk Avenue and when I first rode the route I coined the phrase 'Norfolk Nobbler' just because I needed the illiteration for it to work. Anyway, it's all pointless and just a bit of fun, like the Sline's Oak Sloth. There's nothing slothful about that ride.

I try and leave the house around 1600hrs, but the reality is that I hit the road around 1645hrs, meaning that it gets dark while I'm out. Fortunately, I have lights.

Croft Radio, West Wickham

It looks as if the weather is going to worsen over the next few days. We've already had a dusting of snow, but there's been rain too (of course there's been rain!). Andy's rigged his bike up on a kind of 'turbo trainer'. During the week I baked a couple of cakes and took one round to him. You can't beat a cake in the bad weather.

In other news, I went over to a place called West Wickham, it's on the way to Bromley. I travelled as the light was fading and I when I got there and parked in the Lidl car park I was amazed to find a traditional high street, albeit the shops were all closed. I wandered about and found one of those traditional shops selling electrical goods: you know, alarm clocks, kettles, slow cookers, sandwich makers, There were, of course, a few charity shops, a shoe shop and a couple of coffee shops (Cafe Nero and Costa) not to forget a WH Smiths (also still open), the aforementioned Lidl, two Sainsbury's outlets, an M&S, a gentlemen's outfitters, small boutiques for women and so on. In a sense it was like going back in time. We made two visits to West Wickham and on both occasions I nipped into the Costa and bought a coffee and some cake. The first time a normal cappuccino and a Bakewell tart; the second time, a cinnamon cappuccino (never again) and a slice of banana cake. Another visit is planned, possibly today and, call it lockdown boredom, but I can't wait. Just to wander around at dusk looking into empty shops, sipping a cappuccino, munching on a cake, you can't beat it. But it's more than that; it's something to do with dusk and the fact that the aforementioned shops are like something out of a time warp. The M&S is good too, it's not a big one, but there's a nice vibe about the place.

A gentlemen's outfitters

Actually, I forgot to mention last week. I managed three of my local rides, but Saturday was a wash-out so just the 30 miles. The plan was to ride to Westerham last Saturday (the final day of my week) in order to bump up the mileage to my usual average of around 50 miles.

This week I think I've already covered around 37 miles. If I ride today that will mean 47 miles and then a ride to Westerham will bump it up to 67 miles and that, for me, would be a result at the moment. That said, even if I don't go today (and it's likely) then a ride to Westerham will still mean 57, which is a few miles more than my currently weekly average.

Okay, it's Friday and I've got to start working.

Shorter rides boost the weekly mileage...

Snow is about to fall, or so say the weather people on the radio and Andy prempted the whole thing by texting me yesterday, or it might have been Friday, to kind of abort the ride. Initially I said let's wait and see what happens, but it was cold out there yesterday and the thought of leaving the house at 0800hrs wearing the balaclava and heading for Tatsfield Village suddenly no longer appealed. We both agreed to do our local rides, which is what I've been doing all week, short bursts of around five or six miles and it soon adds up. I was doing variations of the Norfolk Nobbler this week, starting with a ride of just over five miles, then another of just under six miles and on it went. I missed one day (I think it was Wednesday) but then I rode for just over 10 miles on Friday evening (resorting to using my lights as it got dark approaching 1700hrs). And then yesterday I went for it and rode what I called The Super Nobbler, a ride of over 13 miles. 

You might think these local rides are a bit of cop-out, a bit 'namby', but they're not. The Norfolk Nobbler has many hilly sections that get the heart racing and the worst of the lot, believe it or not, is coming up West Hill from the north, as opposed to the steeper but shorter 'south face'. In fact, the hills are pretty bad in places, not mind numbingly so, like Titsey or White Lane, but they keep me on my toes, so to speak. Norfolk Avenue is a case in point. 

Ready for a 13-miler Nobbler...

In fact, I am 'a local legend' on Norfolk Avenue, according to Strava. Basically the hill never stops until it stops and by that I mean that the climb continues right up to the moment when it doesn't, there's no levelling off, no 'ledges', not until you find yourself on a downhill stretch, and this is both ways. When I've turned right out of Ridge Langley and then left on to Arundel Avenue, I cycle down towards the right turn-off for Norfolk Avenue, which bears right and is then a hill from the very beginning until the moment that it isn't a hill, if that makes sense. I'm a foot away from the summit and still climbing and then a foot more and it's downhill as I freewheel down towards Church Way. Coming back in the other direction, it's a hill all the way to the top and I'm still climbing as I make the left turn and then hit the downhill ride the other way. 

On yesterday's 13-miler I rode three laps, but encroached upon Sanderstead Hill and on the third lap I rode down the Upper Selsdon Road and then turned left on to Arundel Avenue,  finding myself back in what I like to call 'the world', meaning the secret world of winding suburban streets, hidden from view, that duck and dive on the Nobbler rides. 

The great news is that my mileage is creeping up again. Last week was absolutely piss poor, but this week I managed to creep over the 50-mile marker with something like 64 miles, probably a bit more, but I don't think I reached 65. It all goes to prove that if you chip away at the miles doing little rides day-by-day, the distances soon add up and then, if you throw in a bigger ride at the weekend, before your week is out, you can really get things moving. It's going to be a bit of a challenge this coming week, which starts today (Sunday) but only if I don't go out today) and, as I write this at 1022hrs I've looked out of the window to see snow falling steadily. If this continues and it starts to lay, well, it might bugger up the whole week, but let's see. Andy was certainly right about not going out today, he must have a sixth sense. Had we done so we'd be out there now, our faces aching with the cold and who knows, a puncture would have made it a whole lot worse. So, it's fingers crossed this week and let's hope the snow is 'just visiting' and not hanging around for the week. That said, I have a theory about snow at this time of year: basically, you might think you're getting a light dusting and that's all, but you can guarantee it'll back; so if, say, like now, it snows today, on Sunday, and it lays, but in the morning is largely gone, well, don't think you've got away with it. You can virtually guarantee that a heavier snowfall is on the way. 

Lastly, and talking about cycling clothing, not that we were talking about cycling clothing, on yesterday's 13-miler I decided to wear my Parka on the ride. It's not a real Parka, but a green hooded affair that is really my day-to-day coat in the colder weather. I put it on for the ride along with the green balaclava and an orange beanie hat and you know what? It didn't hinder movement, it kept me warm and you can bet I'll be wearing it again as the cold weather continues.

I'm more than happy with my 64 miles this week.

As January gets moving...more ramblings

 I suppose the first question is simple: why was I walking around the street dressed only in a white duvet? I mean, alright, I wasn't really 'wearing' the duvet, it didn't have sleeves, so I really just had it wrapped around me, but my point is why? There's no answer. And then, somehow the duvet disappeared and I must have been clothed as I didn't feel in any way uneasy or cold. I was, however, running across a wide road and trying to reach the other side before this odd-shaped, retro van hit me. It didn't hit me. I reached the other side just in time and leapt up and over the very high pavement. From then onwards it's all a little vague. It turns out it was another of my fretful dreams, which I haven't experienced for a while, probably because the festive break enabled me to get all the crap out of my head, all the worry about this and that banished. But now I've been back a week or two perhaps all the stress is creeping back in, who knows? Anyway, I found myself awake around 0500hrs and in truth it didn't matter, I was in no rush to go anywhere, except that I was planning on a ride to Westerham or Tatsfield Village or even the Slines Oak Sloth*, but I was hoping I'd drum up the enthusiasm for a 20-plus mile ride and that normally means Westerham.

Library photo of Westerham, Kent

Cycling has tailed off considerably, especially this week. To be fair, for most weeks since the weather took a turn for the worst and the days shortened I'd managed to somehow put in around 50 (almost 60) miles, but I guess on average I been riding something like 54 miles on a weekly basis... until this week. This week I put in a measly 18.23 miles and that was last Sunday. I lost momentum yesterday. I had planned to ride to Westerham, which would have pushed my weekly total to something like 41 miles, which still wasn't good, but a lot more respectable than the reality of the situation of just over 18 miles. I don't know why I didn't simply bite the bullet yesterday, but I didn't and the weather was poor. That was the reason. It was raining in the morning and it persisted, but I can't remember how long for; it must have brightened up, but by the time things had improved I was in no mood to go out so I resigned myself to the piss-poor performance that I eventually handed in for marking.

Today was a different story. For a start, the weather was amazing. I left the house around a quarter to nine, so that's 0845hrs by the 24-hour clock, which I insist upon using for some strange reason. I was in two minds about where to go: Westerham, Tatsfield Village or the Slines Oak Sloth (see footnote). In the end I rode to Westerham and came back via the road that passes the Velo Barn, turning left on to Pilgrims Lane and later heading down The Ridge towards Woldingham. I reached home around 1100hrs (there, you see, I'm back on the 24-hour clock) and then set about enjoying the rest of my Sunday, which basically involved a walk around Chartwell in Kent and then sitting around the house watching clips from Larry David's Curb Your Enthusiasm and, of course, writing this blogpost. Avid readers might have noticed that I haven't been posting a great deal of late. There's no reason for this, I just haven't been posting that much. Also, you might be wondering why there aren't that many photos accompanying my posts. Well, that's easy. My phone (an Apple iPhone 5S) keeps running out of power. If you follow me on Strava, you'll note that a lot of my entries end after just six miles when the reality is a 20+ mile ride. I normally write something like '21 miles to Westerham, but phone lost power' but it's not a good state of affairs. Fortunately, I have an iPhone XS ready to use, it just needs a new screen and I have to get a new sim card. I'm out of contract now, which is great, but I doubt I'll leave my phone provider. I'm on a sim-only deal and it's fine, but I definitely needed a new phone. I've just got to get down to the phone store to get one sorted out. I think the XS has a far better camera than the 5S and I'm told the battery lasts longer. My current phone seems to run out even when there's supposedly 64% of power left. Using Strava takes up a lot of power and that's why lots of my Strava entries mention the phone running out. It's very annoying and means that I've stopped taking photos of my rides. Today's ride managed to record fine, but had I taken a photograph it would have been a different story.

Lives change, routines change and I've taken to watching independent movies at night times rather than terrestrial television. Some weeks back now I started watching movies that invariably involved 'a young married couple' visiting a remote farmhouse for the weekend only discover that there were evil forces lurking or nutters in the woods and it all turns rather sour. Good fun films to watch and movies that make you wonder why Americans going into spooky houses never think about turning a light on. You know the sort of movie I'm talking about. "Hello, is anybody there?" So, I'm watching movies like White Settlers, The Landlord, I See You, the latter two featuring a guy called Gerald, played by one Neville Archambault, who, in my humble opinion is absolutely brilliant. There's been plenty of others. I've started getting into Australian cinema with movies like Last Ride featuring Hugo Weaving, and Somersault, not to mention The Daughter, all good movies even if the latter was pretty harrowing at the end. Why am I watching these movies? Well, yes, it's better than watching terrestrial television, but there's more to it than that: I need some form of escape from reality, something that takes me out of things for a couple of hours and the movies seem to do the trick. I settle down with a cup of camomile tea or, as of the past few days, an Ovaltine, and that's me sorted until around 11pm (or 2300hrs) when I head for bed. Don't ask me why, it's just a survival technique I'm currently employing.

I can't remember if I've mentioned it of late, but we're in lockdown again. Everything's closed like it was in the summer, except it's cold out there and the cycling has tailed off as a result. The virus is more virulent, there's a couple of new variants and loads of people have been infected, some of us don't even know if we've had (or have) the virus and that's why things have taken a turn for the worse. Fortunately, it looks as if the vaccination programme has legs and is moving on at a fair pace. My mum (she's 91 you know!) is having hers next week, my mother-in-law had hers last Saturday and it's all looking good. I'm probably not supposed to ride to Westerham, it's likely to be breaking the rules, but if that's the case, I've been breaking the rules all summer. In truth, riding out alone and not stopping is probably not causing too many problems and even on a Sunday, when Andy and I meet in Tatsfield Village, it's still not an issue. Apparently we can meet one other person from another household.

Okay, so that's today's post. I hope to post more. For some reason things have tailed off, as I said earlier, but I'll endeavour to get back on track with it.

Until the next time...

* The Slines Oak Sloth involves riding along the B269 to just beyond Botley Hill, turning back at the mini roundabout and then hanging a left and riding along The Ridge towards Woldingham. The road bears right and takes me into Woldingham and then I turn right on to Slines Oak Road. I ride towards the B269, turn left and pick up the Limpsfield Road towards home. It's around 15.5 miles.

New Year ramblings...

I completed my week on Saturday 2nd January with the Slines Oak Sloth in the grey and cloudy weather. The roads were a bit wet but that was about it. In total another 15.34 miles bringing my weekly mileage to roughly 57 miles, possibly more as I haven't added up the fractions.

On Sunday 3rd January I rode to meet Andy at the Tatsfield Village bus stop where we chatted about a range of subjects, the main one being Andy's assertion that tourism was pointless. Perhaps not pointless but I think what he was getting at was foreign holidays and simply sitting around doing nothing for a week, which I always thought was the point, but I know what he means. Andy says time passes quickly when you're sitting around doing nothing. Now, I'm not sure about that. I always find that a busy schedule makes the time pass faster than if I'm doing nothing and don't forget that a watched kettle never boils, so there you have it. But Andy has point: how many people visit London, I wonder, and think that seeing Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament is all there is to the UK capital? Or who goes to Paris just to see the Eifel Tower?

It was foggy and I thought a little cold so I wore the balaclava and several layers of clothing as well as my face covering thingy, not sure what you call them, possibly a 'snood', but who knows? Either way it made life a little more comfortable on the bike. 

Riding to the Tatsfield Village via Woldingham clocks up 18.23 miles. As you can see from the shot below, the roads were wet and because of the fog the air was damp. At one point I encountered sleety rain, or possibly even snow, on the 269, but nothing came of it.

On Clarks Lane, just past the Botley Hill roundabout...3 January

It's now Monday 4th January and I'm back at work, which was a bit of a wrench if I'm honest. I finished just gone 1630hrs and now I'm sitting at the dining room table blogging. I really hope to be able to get more miles in this week, but as it's dark by 1600hrs then I might need to look at early morning rides that get me back before I start work at 0800hrs. We'll see how that goes. Perhaps a couple of early Norfolk Nobbler Double Loops (10 miles). It would be good to get the mileage up to over 60 miles this week.

Tuesday 5th January and it's cold and rainy outside. It's now 1841hrs and I'm sitting in the sun lounge blogging. I wanted to go for a walk, but it would be too unpleasant. Ben Fogle's back on Channel Five tonight with a new series of New Lives in the Wild. Can't wait. Not sure if I've mentioned this before, but Ben Fogle is one of the best things on television. After that I'll probably watch another 'scary' movie. None of them have been scary yet, just a little bit naff if the truth be known.

It would be remiss of me not to mention the lockdown. Yes, for the third time since March last year we're back in lockdown. For how long nobody really knows, but we've got the vaccines on the way so hopefully it won't be too long. I'm gunning for Easter. Everybody's getting tired of it now, I know that I am.

So, a week of no cycling. But the weather was poor. It was cold and rainy and not really conducive to enjoyable cycling. My cycling week ended on Saturday 9th January and all I managed was around 40 miles, probably just 39. Today (Sunday 10th January) I rode to meet Andy at the Tatsfield Village Bus Stop. He wasn't there. But he did try to contact me. Unfortunately, my phone (once again) had run out of power so I sat alone drinking tea and giving Andy until 1000hrs before heading back home. He never turned up. Later, when I'd charged my phone at home, I opened up the messages and there it was: Andy had aborted, but only because he couldn't get into his garage. An iced up lock prevented him from attending the Sunday morning meeting of NoVisibleLycra. There's always next week.

The weather was cold over the weekend. Yesterday when I rode out around 1000hrs it was just 1 degree as I headed towards my destination: Westerham. I rode there via Pilgrims Lane, past the VeloBarn and then into the town centre. I didn't have a mask or any money so I couldn't stop for a cappuccino and some cake at the Costa on the green. Instead, I rode through the high street and then turned right and headed for the hill that would take me out of town and on the road to Botley Hill. There was thick fog most of the way and on Sunday it was just the same. It was also very lovely. The trees were frosted white and were shedding showers of ice, glass-like shards shaken from the bare branches as the sun tried to poke its head through the swirling, steamy grey clouds. Sunday I rode back from the village via The Ridge and that means my mileage was 18.23. If I could do four Slines Oak Sloths this coming week it would be good, but let's see what the weather has in store.

It's not just the weather, of course. Now I'm back at work my cycling windows are getting smaller. It's dark around 1600hrs, meaning lunch time and first thing in the morning are the only other options. The last thing I want to do is go out first thing in the morning as I need a bit of chill time prior to starting work around 0800hrs. By lunch time I'm in need of a break, so it looks as if cycling is reverting back to two rides per week, at the weekends, but only during this period of darkness and bad weather. Hopefully, as the weather improves, I'll be pushing the envelope again...unless COVID restrictions mean I can't ride out to places like Tatsfield village or Westerham. I think I'll take the risk on that front.

Christmas ramblings

[When I started writing this rambling post, London was under Tier 3 COVID restrictions]

So London goes into Tier Three restrictions and I'm wondering what it all means for cycling. Will riding from where I live in a Tier Three location out into the sticks where I'm sure they're all Tier Two, be illegal? Even if I'm not really stopping or socialising with anybody from the Tier Two location? Who knows? Perhaps we'll see what happens. I mean, will the police be on the look-out for for cyclists crossing the border? Or will things be like there were during the summer lockdown? And by that I mean I rode everywhere: to the lakes, to Westerham, to Tatsfield, and sat there drinking weird teas in fields and just chilling in the heat of an amazing summer. Surely I won't be denied that pleasure? I'm not sure what the deal is with Andy, and by that I mean is he in Tier Three or Tier Two and will the situation affect our Sunday meetings? I hope not.

Max in Westerham, 27 December

I've probably said it before, but the novelty of COVID-19 has well and truly worn off. I'm fed up with family packs of Alpen, the summer's gone, cafes are closed and it's all getting very, very depressing. Today I drove to Sevenoaks and the M&S cafe was closed. Things brightened up a little when I drove en famille to Forest Row and to one of many great establishments, Java & Jazz. Coffee and walnut cake, a cappuccino and half of another piece of coffee & walnut, ordered accidentally. All was good. As darkness set in we did a short walk around the block, admiring quaint cottages and Christmas trees and then we drove back. All good, but tainted by the virus and, if I'm honest, the strong likelihood of a no-deal Brexit. Depression loiters just under the surface of life at present and even Christmas brings no respite. Now, instead of enjoying the occasion we'll all be fretting about who's going to give it to who and whether grandma should be locked in a cupboard until she gets vaccinated.

And let's not forget Brexit. From 2016 to the present day it's hung over everybody like a bad smell and presided over by that obese arse Boris Johnson, a buffoon with a stupid haircut who is basically messing up the country at every step he takes. Whenever I see him standing next to European politicians he looks such a mess in his ill-fitting suit when compared, say, to Barnier, whose suit at least fits him and he looks the part. Johnson not only doesn't look the part, he isn't the part, he's an imposter, a career politician who is in it for himself and nobody else. I don't think I hate anybody more than I hate Johnson. He lies and lies and doesn't really care about the people he's supposed to be looking after. I hate his voice, his appearance, his politics, everything and I have to keep reminding myself that we, the British people, voted him into a position of power. He who lied to us all about giving £350 million a week to the NHS - I can't remember the details - but it was definitely a lie designed to make people feel inclined to vote Brexit. And just over half of us did and now, while I suspected we were about to engineer a so-called 'no deal' Brexit, an 11th hour deal has been agreed, although UK fishermen are not happy. Is a going to be a good deal for the UK? Of course not. For the British people? No, why would you think that? New roaming charges on mobile phones anybody? More red tape anyone? Arsehole in charge of the country? You bet!

It's just gone 0600hrs and I've been up since around 0530hrs, having woken up at 0400hrs. Why stay in bed? So I'm listening to BBC 6 Music, Chris Hawkins, on my new digital radio. Isn't he the guy from The Darkness? I've just eaten a bowl of Alpen and a sliced pear plus a cup of Yorkshire Tea and now I'm thinking about a boiled egg, although if I make one I must remember it's on the hob. The other day I got carried away with other stuff when I heard an explosion in the kitchen, it was one of two boiled eggs and when I got out there there was no water in the pan. However, a major disaster was averted: I didn't burn the saucepan, although I must point out that exploding boiled eggs are a good example of how absent-minded and 'off in another world' I've been of late, preoccupied, millions of thoughts twirling around in my head at the same time. The other day I inadvertently used chicken gravy as an accompaniment to cottage pie. We had beef gravy, but the packages are identical and, again, I didn't think, my mind was elsewhere, I wasn't on the ball and I need to get my act together.

It's now the 22nd December, the day after the winter solstice, which means that, from now on, it's getting lighter every day and we're under 10 days from 2021. I'm listening to Chris Hawkins again. London is now under Tier 4 restrictions and for many, Christmas is now ruined and everybody is blaming Boris Johnson. Well, not everybody, but he's getting some stick from the media. I don't want to get back on the subject of Johnson, because everybody knows I think he's an arse and there's nothing much else to say about him.

Tuesday 22nd December 2020

I love being off work for the Christmas period. I still get up early, like now, and sit downstairs listening to the radio and writing the blog, or writing other stuff. Sometimes I listen to BBC Radio 3, in fact, I might switch over as the Pretenders are on and I can't stand them for some reason. Oh, alright, I'll stick with them, but perhaps later a switch to classical music would be good. The other day I sat in the conservatory, reading The Fall by Albert Camus, and listening to Radio 3. The light faded and soon I was sitting in the darkness, nodding in and out of sleep and feeling, I don't know, so relaxed, it was fantastic. The Fall is a bit of a handful, but there you have it. I've got other books to read, like a brand new copy of Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy, a book that has shimmered in my head ever since I first read it back in the mid-seventies, there's something about Diggory Venn, the reddleman, and the whole atmosphere of the book that means I have to re-read it. So that's next for me.

A ride to Westerham

Around 1045hrs I headed for Westerham on the bike. I rode via Pilgrims Lane, past Velo Barn and into the centre of town where I enjoyed a large cappuccino and a Bakewell tart. Have I mentioned my crap iphone 5? If not, just to say that the battery went flat when I arrived in Westerham so I couldn't accurately monitor the mileage. I reckon it was roughly 23 miles as I rode back through Woldingham, there was no rain and it was a very pleasant day (still is as I write this at 1402hrs). It's cloudy out there, but warm, albeit grey. and it was one of those days when I could have carried on riding all day. I was considering riding to Dunton Green or Riverhead or even Otford (now there's a new destination). But I settled for Westerham where, incidentally, they have a decent Christmas tree on the green, which adds to the festive spirit.

Today's ride (22nd December) brings my weekly total to roughly 39 miles, but overall I've been riding fairly frequently: I rode to Tatsfield village to meet Andy on Sunday (16 miles); the previous Saturday I rode the Slines Oak Sloth (15.34 miles) and I did the same ride on Friday (another 15.34 miles). The previous Sunday I rode 18.03 miles to Tatsfield, also to meet Andy, and the mileage was higher because I rode home via Woldingham. The Saturday before that I rode to Sevenoaks (something like 34 miles, making me a hero on Strava) and then my ride prior to that was the Sunday before when I rode 18.03 miles to Tatsfield. So, reduced riding due to bad weather mainly, but I'm still getting up to around 50 miles a week. So far this week (and remember my week starts on a Sunday) I've riden around 39 miles. I'll probably do another 20-odd miles this week, taking me to around 59/60 miles and then a ride on Boxing Day to Tatsfield, taking my weekly mileage (hopefully) to roughly 78 miles, which ain't bad. It all depends on the weather.

Here's the past week's mileage to date:-

1. Sunday 20th December, ride to Tatsfield, back the fast way: 16 + miles.

2. Tuesday 22nd December, ride to Westerham, via Woldingham: 23 miles. Cumulative total 39 miles.

3. Saturday (Boxing Day) to Tatsfield Village via Slines Oak: 18.03 miles.

4. Sunday (27th December) to Westerham (the slow way) via Tatsfield Village with Max and then back along The Ridge (26 miles).

5. Tuesday 29th December, The Slines Oak Sloth (15.34 miles).

Total: 57 miles.

Christmas was pleasant, it always is, and now it's Boxing Day and I've been on a ride to meet Andy at Tatsfield Village (see above). The weather was overcast and slightly on the cold side, but it was fine and I wore the balaclava, which was probably overkill on my part. Andy and I enjoyed Christmas cake, mince pies, a fantastic protein bar and, of course, a cup of tea, well, two cups. We talked about movies on Prime and then rode back together via Woldingham and, for me, the steep hill at the end of Slines Oak Road.

A ride with my son Max

On Sunday 27th December my son Max and I rode the long way to Tatsfield Village to meet Andy and I made a right nob of myself on the road leading to St Leonard's Church. A cyclist en route advised me to seek another route as the road ahead was flooded, he meant well. "Not a problem, mate," said I with bravado and, to be fair, Andy and I have rode through the flooded section of road before, I wasn't anticipating a problem. But I was mistaken. When we reached the water, two cyclists on the other side were working out a way of getting across without getting wet, but I steamed in and got stuck half way. The water must have been around a foot and a half deep. The bike came to a standstill and I knew that within a second or so I would have to wade out, pretending there wasn't a problem (when clearly there was). Max played it safe and found a way around the water and so did the two cyclists waiting on the other side. Only yours truly rushed in and received a soaking in return. The water was cold and I had the whole ride ahead of me. Fortunately, the weather was mild and warm and in all honesty it never really bothered me. I kind of accepted it and got on with the ride. When we reached Tatsfield Village we munched on Andy's protein bars, which are seriously good, and then, after chatting about our bikes and Andy's London to Paris ride in 2011, we rode with Andy towards the Tatsfield Bus Stop and turned left on to Clarks Lane, heading for Westerham. Andy turned right and headed home along The Ridge. There was so much water on the roads (after the havoc wreaked by Storm Bella) and there was a raging torrent blasting its way along a roadside gulley as we entered Westerham. There was a masked queue for the Costa so we decided to ride home. It was tough coming back up the hill, but we pressed on, turning left on The Ridge and riding through Woldingham. Once we had tackled the Slines Oak hill it was just a case of riding along the Limpsfield Road to reach home, a ride of 26 miles, and the perfect way to start my cycling week.

Same flooded road, but less water and a different day

It's Monday and there's a whole week of not being at work ahead of me. If I can get a couple of rides in before next Sunday that would bump up my mileage.

29th December - The Slines Oak Sloth

At lunch time I decided to hit the road and was going to do a Ledgers Double Loop (12 miles) but decided instead to ride the Slines Oak Sloth (15.34 miles). The weather was grey but pleasant and I was out for 90 minutes. I left at noon and was home around 1.30pm, just in time for jacket potato, tuna and sweetcorn!

And now it's a day later, 30th December, Max has gone home and we're all wishing he was still here. It's 0835hrs, I've had breakfast and I'm thinking about another ride, possibly another Slines Oak Sloth. So far this week I've covered around 41 miles (26 + 15 = 41) so another 15 would be excellent for midweek.

New Year's Eve 2020

It's always an uneventful day and I've never liked it. I can't stand the false bonhomie of New Year and the anticlimax of the whole thing. The fireworks go off and I'm always thinking so what? Sometimes I go to bed before midnight and these days, because I don't drink, I tend to wake up feeling fine, which is far better than a hangover. I should have gone out for a ride, but didn't.