Botley and Godstone Green

We managed to get two cycles in this weekend, which makes a change. The norm so far this year has been one cycle, be it a Saturday or Sunday, or, indeed, none at all.

Ducks taking it easy on Godstone Green, January 29th 2012.

Saturday just about got off the ground. Andy sent a text saying he could only manage a fast one, to Botley and back non-stop. No need for tea and chat, just there and back. Job done. So I woke early, as usual, but this time got ready immediately, then made myself a cup of tea prior to leaving the house. I was early, for a change, which was good.

And yes, you've guessed it, it was dark outside and I still haven't sorted out lights for the bike and rode on the path towards the green, not the road.

We went to that small car park adjacent to the roundabout just beyond the Botley Hill Farmhouse pub and, as always, there were a couple of muddy puddles, but no rain. We chatted about the dangers of nationalism in the light of recent news stories concerning Scottish independence and then rode home.

On Sunday we went to Godstone Green, a destination we've avoided because we can't be bothered to tackle the huge and unrelenting hill on the return journey. In the past this has been because of my gears being faulty, but there's no excuse and besides, if we can get used to the hill, we can pay a visit to a new café that's opened in the farm shop on the A25. That'll be next week.

We figured the ducks don't like it when the pigeons show up for breakfast.

In Godstone Green we sat on one of the benches in front of the lake and enjoyed our tea and cereal bar before heading home and preparing ourselves for the hill. To be honest, while tough, it wasn't that bad, although I had to tackle Slines Oak Road, which is a bit of a pig. That conquered - and having already said goodbye to Andy in Woldingham - I cycled home along the Limpsfield Rd and home.

A good weekend of cycling and hopefully we'll be visiting Godstone Green a little more frequently. As I said to Andy on the ride, we've been having it fairly easy for a long time, cycling to 'safe' destinations like Tatsfield Village, Churchyard and bus stop, where there ain't many hills. We need to get back to a few more punishing routes and the hills coming out of Godstone are pretty hard-going.

Who needs independence?

No, it's not Dubai, it's Glasgow's Science Centre, superby shot by Keith Hunter.

Why do the Scots want independence when they've got the best of both worlds? I've just arrived on Glasgow Central station and I drew out some money from the cash point. And guess what? It looks nothing like English money! It's like being in a foreign country! I knew this, of course, having been here many times in the past, but isn't that the best thing about foreign countries - the different currency? Unless you go to Europe, of course, where everybody uses the Euro. How boring! I much preferred the days of the Deutsche Mark, the Franc and the Italian Lira...and who knows, the way things are going we might be going back to the old currencies. The Scots already have their own money that looks different from the bank notes you get in England so what are they moaning about? They've got the best of both worlds without having to try too hard: their own bank notes AND governance from Westminster. It's like working for a big company, getting all the benefits AND being allowed to work from your own office building. I know I wouldn't be resigning to set up my own business!

No cycling for Matt this weekend...

Today, as I ironed my shirts in preparation for a business trip to Glasgow, I moaned silently to myself as I drew back the curtains and revealed a tremendous-looking day, just perfect for a ride! I checked with Andy later, as I stood on the concourse of Euston railway station awaiting the 1225pm train to Glasgow Central, and he too missed out, preferring instead to have a lie-in.

But then Andy did go cycling yesterday, when I bottled it after realising that I had just too much on my plate. We were supposed to have people round to look at a car we were selling, but they never turned up and then there was a bit of work to do. Still, Saturday was a bit on the windy side, although it would have been good. I'm definitely going out next weekend.

Andy did go out on Sunday and he's sent me his route so I'll print it up later on. Right now, as I write this, I'm somewhere between Carlisle and Glasgow Central. As I gaze out of the window on my left there are forests and wind farms; on my right, a road and more forests. Fir trees, evergreens. The sky is a mix of pleasant blue and dark grey clouds, but it's all good. Powdery grey skies and fir trees silouetted against them.

On my right hand side, more wind turbines have appeared and they're not moving an inch, nor are the ones on the left, so I'm guessing they're not very effective. The forests are getting thicker and now it's opened out, there's a river and grey hills on the left and a similar picture on the right.

I arrive into Glasgow at 5pm and I can't really say much about what I'm doing as it's hush hush.

It's five hours from Euston to Glasgow on a Sunday and it's flown past. I've been working, then eating lunch and then writing a letter to an old friend from my childhood. Hopefully, one day soon we'll have a chat on the phone and might even meet up. Who knows?

Somebody has left a copy of the Sunday Mirror on the table opposite. In fact, I've moved to the very table as I can't get power for my laptop on my side. That's something that happens quite a lot these days. A few times now I've gone to plug in my phone charger or lap top only to discover that there's no power. Now that's just poor service, something that seems to be more common these days than in the past.

It is, however, good to know that those who provide a poor service ultimately pay the price. Take British Gas for example. There's a story in the Sunday Mirror entitled GAS TURN-OFF: 200,000 quit British Gas...and profits FALL by 23%.

Well, that's good news! Voting with your feet is the best way. British Gas will, apparently, announce a 23 per cent fall in profits as 200,000 customers walk away. Since last summer, 1,800 people per day have left in protest at 17.3 per cent price hikes - there we go again, poor service, but high prices. Just for the record, my ticket cost me £127! Why, then, has the power on my side of the train been switched off?

Customers are moving from the big power and energy suppliers to smaller operators, according to the Sunday Mirror. Why? Because large falls in the price of wholesale energy are not being passed on to the consumer. Instead, the fall in the the wholesale price is benefitting Sir Smetherington Gobshite, or somebody like that. Why? Well, it's greed, it can't be anything else. No doubt, there's somebody out there heading British Gas getting paid a huge and totally unjustified salary. Perhaps he's called Sir Smetherington Gobshite!

The Sunday Mirror article says that bills could be cut by £135 if wholesale savings were passed on. Having said that, British Gas is, sadly, still in profit, although profits have fallen from £742 million in 2010 to £566 million in 2011.

Wholesale gas prices have plunged by 31 per cent and electricity by 28 per cent - but British Gas only cut consumers' electricity bills by five per cent and didn't cut gas bills at all. This really is outrageous but, sadly, it's par for the course.

Unbelievably, a British Gas spokesman told the Sunday Mirror: "We work hard to give customers value for money." Sounds as if the spokesman is a Lib-Dem as they tend not to keep their promises.

Another story that I find astonishing but again par for the course in the UK is the ordeal of Sacha Williams-Rowe. She was stabbed by an abusive boyfriend and had already testified against him but the case collapsed when the judge fell ill. He then ordered a retrial and Williams-Rowe was expected to face another court ordeal.

Remember that Williams-Rowe had been seriously wounded by her abusive boyfriend and was in no fit state to attend court. She thought that the British legal system would be on her side, but oh no, don't forget, the legal system is ALWAYS on the side of the criminal and once again that has proved to be the case.

Williams-Rowe failed to appear in court to testify again and guess what? SHE was sent to jail! Meanwhile, the abusive boyfriend pleaded guilty to a lesser charge of unlawful wounding and was jailed for just 15 months – although he'll be out in six weeks!

Judge Lord Parmoor should be ashamed of himself. The abusive boyfriend, by the way, goes by the name of Mr Murda - he's a rap singer. I'll leave it there.

It's dark outside now and we're minutes away from Glasgow Central, better sign off.

Tatsfield Churchyard - too tired to go anywhere else

Here's Andy's shot of the steps leading to the 

Tatsfield Churchyard. Think Stairway to Heaven

General tiredness has forced me not to post for the past two weeks. I've been so busy, working  full days during the week and then having two days off on Saturday and Sunday. The weekends have become like rocks to step on to escape a raging torrent of work. During the week I'm up at 6am, out of the house at 7.25am and on the 7.40am train. I change at East Croydon for the 7.49am Brighton train, getting off at Three Bridges and jumping on the early bus, the company bus, which arrives outside the station at 8.20am. By 8.30am I'm at my desk, I get one hour for lunch then work through to around 5.30pm, normally a bit longer, and then I walk for 30 minutes through the poorly-lit streets of Crawley, travelling from Broadfield and through Tilgate to Crawley railway station where I board a London Victoria train. I get off at East Croydon, take the subway to platform six and pick up the East Grinstead train. One stop later is Sanderstead and then I have a walk of around 10 to 15 minutes through the alleys and home. I repeat this process every day for five days.

Yesterday, 17 January 2012, I was out until 1am, but I still woke up around 6am and was back on the early bus again from Three Bridges. During my lunch break I walk, normally to the shops at Tilgate, then I turn around and walk back. Sometimes I walk to the shops at Broadfield or I hoof it down to Furnace Green and some shops near a pub called The Charcoal Burner. Then again I turn and walk back.

We found this seriously mutilated deer on the

roadside, prompting thoughts of wild cats on the 

loose - what if a Komodo dragon has escaped from

the nearby Reptile Zoo, we wondered.

This routine tires me out and unless I got to bed early, which I don't on a Friday night, the cycling is in the balance. I consider the 'abort' text. On the weekend of the 14th and 15th of January, I went on the Saturday (14th) but didn't go on the Sunday - but that was because I had work to do. The week before I think Andy and I were out on the Sunday but not the Saturday. I can't remember, but we've managed one cycle per week and both the restful Tatsfield Churchyard.

This week I'm determined to get out there and do both Saturday and Sunday, but we'll see. I hope so, but perhaps going to Hunger's End is a bridge too far, I'm not sure.

Apart from work, not much has been happening. I've been thinking about dad, especially today as I've been invited to The Gunmakers Arms in Clerkenwell, a pub that symbolises so much family history. The Moggridges were once gunmakers and they lived in the EC1 area of London. They probably went to the pub and next week I'll be there again. I think the last time I was there I was with dad and, I think, mum. But that was a while back.

What else am I doing. Oh yes, I'm reading Dave Gorman, he's great. I Tweeted him the other day and he tweeted back. No, I'm not a regular Tweeter, I hardly ever Tweet. I must have been bored, although I am reading Gorman's book, Dave Gorman versus the Rest of the World. I think I've mentioned this before. I've read all but one of his books, his first book and one day I'll round to that too.

First ride of 2012...

Andy and Matt, Monday 2 January 2012, the Tatsfield

Bus Stop, our first ride of the new year.

It's been pretty lazy over the festive season, but then it's always like that; I start watching late-night TV shows safe in the knowledge that I'm not getting up early to go on a ride. New Year's Day - no ride (Andy would be waking up at his mum's place, not his own, making a ride impossible - unless I went solo). I stayed in bed. Besides, it was another broken night.

I was planning a last ride of 2011, but that was not to be either. To be honest, we need this lazyness to survive and so, last night, the night of Jan 1st 2012, I was in the 'let's get up late' mood. I texted Andy asking if a ride was on the agenda today (Jan 2nd 2012) and, not receiving an initial reply, thought there would be no ride. I stayed up late (1.20am) and watched Dave Gorman's Googlewhack Adventure, a live version of the book I'd read some years ago - fantastic! I'd never seen the stand-up version. I hope that Gorman's America Unchained is screened next, possibly today, but I'm sure it won't be - and hopefully not tonight as it's work tomorrow and I'll need to be in bed early for a 6am start on Wednesday (Jan 3rd 2012).

Anyway, for some reason I wake up at just gone 6am today (2nd Jan) and I'm wondering if there's a ride as I hadn't heard back from Andy. My phone beeped a second ago, but could I find it? No. Eventually, after hunting high and low, there it is in my trouser pocket and sure enough, a text message from Andy reading 'Yep'. I had to think fast: do I abort and go back to bed or go on the ride?

"How about 8am?" I texted back.
"Ok" was the reply.

So, not feeling particularly tired, I decided not to abort and here I am sitting at the computer screen writing this post. It'll have to be a short ride as I've only had about four hours in bed. I'm already contemplating going straight to bed on my return, but whether or not I'll have the chance, I don't know.

In fact, I'm feeling pretty tired as I write this sentence, although it's too late to abort now. I'll continue this post later, once back off the ride...

Geoffrey Althoff's front cover illustration.

...it's now 1044hrs, January 2nd 2012 and I'm back off the ride. We rode to the Tatsfield Bus Stop and did our usual: sat there flicking our teabags, drinking tea and eating cereal bars. Our chat revolved around a children's book, Suki & the Christmas Treasure Trove, penned by yours truly and on the verge of publication. It's currently available on Kindle, but I'm about to upload an edited version.

Writing a novel is not easy. Well, it's 'easy' if you know what you're writing about, that's the hard bit, the idea, but then there's getting it down on paper, which is even harder and then, once you've written it, there's the editing - now that's really difficult.

I managed to bag the story, ie the basic written framework, in a month - 30 days to be precise - but it's taken another two years to get it right; and that involved writing another chapter to tie up some of the loose ends, which were left open-ended in what amounted to the first draft.

Only two people have read Suki & the Christmas Treasure Trove, excluding me; they are Geoff Althoff, the illustrious illustrator, and Andy Smith, my NoVisibleLycra partner in crime.

You can read more about Suki & the Christmas Treasure Trove by clicking here. The story is available on Kindle, but a final edit will be on the Kindle site shortly, so if you're reading this on 2nd January 2012 and fancy uploading it, wait a few more days for the final version. The print version will be out soon, I hope! I've got one more error to fix and it's done.

Photos of today's ride to follow...

27th December - Tatsfield Churchyard

Despite a broken night, I decided to push ahead with a ride and rose at 6am in preparation. To be honest, had my phone been charged, I might have sent the 'abort' text, but I'm glad it wasn't and that I didn't.

It was a pleasant day and we'd both had decent festive breaks. Andy was at home on Christmas Day and I went to the mother-in-law's followed by my mum's on Boxing Day. All very pleasant. Today, 30th December 2011, I've just returned (last night) from two excellent days in the New Forest with friends. We go every year and it's always a great break, lots of walking around the forest and, of course, a few beers and loads of food. Great stuff.

Andy's bike gets into the festive spirit.

I'm getting a little concerned that this Christmas seems to be sailing by miles too fast. Soon I'll be sitting at my desk, working. Still, live for today and all that.

On the 27th, we cycled to the Tatsfield churchyard, but couldn't find a Christmas tree that looked any good; the one on Tatsfield Green, which we cycled to after drinking our tea, had lights and stuff, but it wasn't switched on and looked a bit dull. We cycled home and Andy said he'd decorate the bike.

Today, 30th December, it's a nice day out there, but I woke up too late for a ride and perhaps a break is as good as rest. Tomorrow, 31 December, will be our last ride of the year - here's hoping it stays nice out there.

Two years ago.

Christmas Eve morning - let's talk about dogs...

Tatsfield village on Christmas Eve morning, around 0815hrs. The Christmas tree on the green wasn't sparkling because the lights were off, but there was a fair amount of activity, mainly from people buying their early morning newspaper from Linda's store, one of those places that sells everything you need.

Dogs: cute, maybe, but they don't know the meaning of Andrex - even if
they feature in the advertisements.

There were a few people out walking their dogs. One man had three. At one point, as Andy and I sat down to enjoy our tea and cereal bar, it seemed as if all the dogs were barking at the same time. Sitting in the comfort of the covered bus stop, looking across to The Ship, Andy had something to say.

"I can't stand dogs," he said.
"I'm not sure," said I. "But I know what you mean."

Across the road a man emerged walking his dog. Right on cue, I thought.

"They're pack animals," Andy said.
"Man's best friend," I replied.
"I don't believe that; they just go where they're fed."
"Cats more so..."
"I hate cats too."
"I'd prefer a dog to a cat."
"Why own a dog? They're so much grief. Everything revolves around the dog. If you go out you have to ask yourself 'shall we bring the dog or leave it here?' and if you go on holiday, you've got to find somebody to look after it or put it in kennels. It's like having a baby for 15 years. People who own dogs need to feel wanted."

Andy had picked the right day to discuss dogs; there were loads of them: big ones, small ones, some in twos, some in threes, Tatsfield was a dog owners' paradise.

"The thing I hate about dogs is the smell," I said. "A kind of doggy smell, a damp smell, that suddenly hits you, it wafts past. I remember once, when I visited a social club near Derby, that the man who owned the club offered me a lift to the station. He warned me that he kept dogs and that the car was a bit of mess, but it wasn't the mess I was concerned about, it was the smell. For the whole journey I must have been pulling an awful face. All I wanted to do was pinch my nose."
"And every day you've got to take it out for a walk, whatever the weather, even when it's pouring down."
"Yes, and when you get back home, soaking wet, the dog shakes himself all over the carpet."
"And these days, you've got to pick up their turds too.
"That's the most off-putting bit."
"Yes, the feel of a hot, squashy turd through a plastic bag."
"Actually, the worst thing about dogs is that they don't wipe their arses."
"I've never thought of that before, but you're right, they don't."
"Imagine if you had to do it for them. Now there's a job I wouldn't relish."
"The dog wouldn't like it either."
"Think for a moment if humans acted like dogs. Imagine being at home, with nothing on. You answer the call of nature, you don't wipe your arse and then go and sit on the sofa. That's what it's like being a dog."
"Or doing that thing dogs do when they pull themselves along on their arses."
"Carpet surfing?"
"That's it."
"Our respective wives wouldn't be impressed."
"No, they wouldn't."
"That's a good point, though."
"What?"
"I've never thought of it before: that dogs never wipe their arses."
"Well, they can't, we'd have to do it for them and that's far worse than picking up their turds through a plastic bag."
"What time is it?"
"Time we got out of here I think."

We mounted our bikes and left Tatsfield and it's barking dogs behind us. We cycled past the desolate Reptile Zoo and were greeted by the sound of dogs, or was it wolves, crying and yelping. I wondered if a Komodo dragon was on the loose, but figured that a reptile zoo in Tatsfield would be limited to grass snakes and other less dangerous animals.

Merry Christmas to all our readers!

Helen Pidd on the Batavus Lento Deluxe

Writing in Saturday's Guardian Weekend magazine (17 December) Helen Pidd explains how she can never understand anybody who takes the bus when the option of cycling is open to them. Well, how about when it's raining, Helen? But, she argues, when she moved to a foreign country (I'm guessing Germany and Berlin) she bought a cheap bike and discovered that 'riding a rubbish bike is no fun at all'.

The male version of the Batavus Lento is available in blue and black.

Well, of course. Having spent around £700 on my Kona Scrap, I must admit that I would never trade it in for a cheap ride from Halfords (not that all Halfords bikes are cheap, they used to sell Konas there too).

Getting back to Helen: she took delivery of a Batavus Lento (click here for more details of the company behind the bike) and she described it thus: 'it was like having sex with somebody who knows how to do it after years with a blundering novice; like tasting real pesto after a lifetime eating it out of a jar'.

My pesto always comes from a jar and as for sex with a blundering novice, well, hey, I need more practice I guess.

Describing the Batavus Lento, Pidd said that turning the pedals was effortless and that 'a light tap on the brakes brought me to a firm yet peaceful stop'. She said that the front light (front light?) was powered by a dynamo (now, that's what I need) and that it was so bright she had 'enormous fun deliberately dazzling friends while pretending to be Mulder or Scully with their industrial torches'.

Just for the record, Mulder and Scully used Maglites.

According to Helen, 'a cute little pump' was built into the Lento's rear rack and was never needed.

The Batavus is a Dutch brand and while it is what Helen calls 'a traditional sit-up-and-beg' bike, it's pretty speedy too, with seven gears offering an excellent range. She never needed to dip below two and found herself 'really flying' along Berlin's Karl-Marx-Allee.

And then she went and ruined the whole article: 'The fact that it [the Lento] looks a little ploddy may be a disadvantage to some, but being underestimated by men on racing bikes is one of my favourite things'.

Hmmm...men, racing bikes. We're not all Lycra monkeys (or Mamils). 'I love swooshing past while they're fiddling with their clip-on shoes at the traffic lights'.

But is Helen ever really satisfied? No. She admits herself that she started to nit-pick. She thought the Lento was still a 'hulk of a bike' despite its aluminium frame, that the rack at the back was too chunky and the back light was not powered by a dynamo and needed batteries. She disliked the girly white or pink colour options (men, there is a male version of this bike in black or blue).

The colour options and, indeed, all her criticisms of the Lento were mere 'toothpaste squeezing/seat-up' sort of issues and not grounds for divorce (or, in the case of a bike, taking it back to the shop).

In short, Helen found the Lento a joy to ride and far better than taking the bus (although she didn't mention anything about her options when it rains).

Tatsfield Village – Saturday 17th December 2011

Cold weather. The car outside had a dusting of frost on the roof, Sanderstead pond had a similar cellophane film of ice as I cycled by and, in short, it was cold. Fortunately, I had my full balaclava on and many layers of clothing and I didn't feel too bad. To be frank, I was just glad to be up and out on the bike as the weather, while cold, was strangely pleasant.

Tatsfield Village Green on Sunday November 21st 2010.

At the green, Andy and I decided to head for Tatsfield village and en route we checked out the reptile zoo, which was closed. There was a sign saying that a café was open from 7am, but there was no sign of life so we headed for the bus stop in the village opposite the pub.

We sat outside, drank our tea, ate our cereal bar and chatted about jobs and stuff before heading home and vowing to cycle again the following day. My last words to Andy were something like 'same place, same time tomorrow?' but it wasn't to be as I had a broken night. I sent Andy the Abort! text and went back to bed, not surfacing properly until around 10am. Andy texted me saying he'd had a lie-in, which was good news as my lack of cycling recently has been bugging me.

I phoned Andy and we discussed next week: a Christmas Eve cycle is definitely on the cards as is boxing day ride to Woodmansterne Green to meet Jon and eat some cake. That's the plan. My aim is to get a whole row of early nights in next week, particularly on Friday.

Incidentally, I'll also be available for rides on 30 and 31 December, not forgetting a New Year's Day ride if anybody's up for it.

Thought for the day: if quizzes are quizzical, what are tests?

That time of year....or just plain laziness?

The answer is probably a mix of the two. I didn't go cycling at all last week, but to be honest, I put it down to tiredness. At last I have a proper job, but it means getting up at the crack of dawn, which takes some getting used to; so it gets to the weekend, Andy's not going and I figure a lie-in will do me good – and it does! Add on a bit of poor weather, ie it's cold, and the end result is I don't go cycling.

Andy's weekend cycling route - I was in bed.

This is, of course, a sorry state of affairs that has to be rectified, but then again it is that time of year when the weather gets very cold – not that it's stopped us in the past – people start to go down with coughs and colds (fortunately, not yet) and a little thing called Christmas comes our way (the festive season has never stopped us, incidentally).

Andy did go last weekend, though, so I really can't use it as an excuse. In fact, he sent me a map of his route - just to make me feel that little bit more guilty! The truth of the matter was this: last Saturday, 10 December, was my birthday (I'm keeping quiet about my age) and I went round to a mate's house to celebrate as his wife and one-year-old daughter were both sharing my birth date. Coincidence or what? It's odd, as there's a girl in my office who shares the day too, it was Marco Pierre White's birthday on 11 December and my former colleague Sean's birthday on the 9th, not to forget an old pal, Andy Penfold, who also shares the 10th. All in all, then, birthday city!

Anyway, that was my excuse. This coming weekend, poor weather will be the only excuse and that excludes cold weather - only rain and heavy snow count as a reason for an abort text.

The photograph accompanying this post shows Andy's route last weekend.