To Hunger's End in Merstham...

Saturday October 2nd: Running late, by about five minutes, because I'd mislaid my keys, but I headed out towards to the top of Church Way and on to the B269 en route to Warlingham Green. Mist hung in the trees but the skies, while grey in places, let through the sun and I just knew there would be no rain. Not until later at any rate. The weather forecasters had been promising rain and later on in the day we got it, but for Andy and I it was a dry run.

We decided to go to Hunger's End, a place we'd neglected for some time. I called Jon and told him our plans but only via his voicemail. We never saw him.

Single from Merstham to Sanderstead, but I got off at Purley

Once again, I was feeling tired having been 'up north' the day before with the racehorse trainer Ginger McCain and his son Donald. No, I wasn't buying a racehorse, I was up there to write about Smithy, a racehorse owned by Heineken UK. Ginger and I sat in his living room watching Sky's coverage of the Ryder Cup. I say coverage of the Ryder Cup, it was mostly men mopping up rainwater and, of course, an eventual announcement that the tournament had ceased due to excessive rain.

The night before I'd stayed in the Cholmondeley Arms in Cholmondeley (pronounced Chumley) and then I was given a lift to the stables by the proprietor. I had travelled from home to Whitchurch by train and had been ripped off by Virgin Trains, having to pay a ridiculous £108 for a single ticket. Anyway, having met the horse, interviewed Ginger's brother Donald and drank a cup of tea, I made my way back to Whitchurch (what a run-down place) and a train to Crewe and then London. The return journey only cost me £60.

So I was tired (again) or at least thinking about a shorter cycle, but by the time I was on the B269, my energy reserves returned and, on reaching the green Andy and I decided to go for Hunger's End. It was 0752, getting late, but we headed off through Woldingham and down Gangers Hill but decided not to cross the A25 – which would have meant The Enterdent. Instead, we travelled along the A25, shaving off a good 20 to 30 minutes. We'd have been late had we taken our usual route, but equally, I was relieved that we were avoiding The Enterdent as I wasn't in the mood.

Hunger's End had changed. It had been given a lick of paint and the proprietor told me she was getting rid of the sofas and installing a deli. Nice idea, but I like sofas in caffs. We ordered tea and toast, we read The Sun and we spoke to the lively aunt of the proprietor who was over from Egham in Surrey as it was her 73rd birthday. The proprietor's aunt was a keen cyclist, which is probably why she was so sprightly. She's a member of the CTC, the UK's national cycling organisation (click here for more details).

After one cup of tea and a couple of slices of toast, we decided to have one more. We read The Sun, commented on the two page-three girls and that was it. Except that I was not feeling like cycling home up Markedge Lane towards Chipstead. I know, it's terrible and I did feel pangs of defeat in my decision to get the train. In fact, as the train made its way north towards it's ultimate destination, London Bridge, I resolved to get off at Purley and cycle home from there.

What was really annoying about Sunday October 3rd was our decision not to go cycling because of the expected rain. Admittedly, both Andy and I had a late night on Saturday, so going cycling wasn't really on the agenda, but when I looked out of the window at 7am, the weather was fine; it wasn't until much later that the rain started.

Early nights, then, are the order of the week and then, if there's no rain next week, we'll have a good cycle.

The Tatsfield bus stop – twice!

The Tatsfield Bus Stop, September 25th 2010.

Having over-indulged on the ale on Friday night, it was touch and go as to whether I'd go cycling on Saturday morning. I woke up feeling fine (several pints, yes, but it was only 3.8 per cent abv) but there was a kind of weariness that led me to hang around and not go for an early morning jaunt. I called Jon but he was going to see Arsenal v West Bromwich Albion and couldn't make it. Alas, it was down to me to motivate myself. I'd figured on a shortish ride to Woodmansterne Green, but now it was looking like Botley Hill, but not yet, not so early.

Blue skies at the bus stop on Saturday (above) but cloud and drizzle on Sunday.

Eventually, I left the house around a quarter to nine and headed off with a mild headache, nothing the fresh air couldn't deal with; the sun was shining and while there was definitely an end of September bite to the air – and I considered gloves and a scarf, but made do with a V-necked jumper – the weather, generally was fine. It was only a little chilly cycling down hill or in the shade. In fact, once I was out and beyond that bus stop on the A269 that signifies the end of the first hilly part of the route, I was feeling fine. So fine, in fact, that I realised, foolishly perhaps, that I was in one of those moods that meant I could cycle for ever and a day. In fact, had I not been constrained by the mundanity of domesticity, I'd have probably just carried on, through Westerham, further east and God knows where I'd have ended up.

As NoVisibleLycra celebrates its first anniversary, the sign that
characterises the website is uprooted. This shot taken on Saturday 25th
September.

I planned to cycle into Tatsfield Village but on reaching the famous bus stop, I spotted the road sign that features on the home page of this blog (just look up to the top of the page and you'll see it). It had been uprooted and was lying on its side on the grass. Was it hit by a lorry or a car or had somebody deliberately uprooted it? I would never know.

I sat and drank tea alone at the bus stop, flicking my teabags on to the grass in front of the bus stop in training for a game with Andy on Sunday (we always see who can flick their teabags the furthest).

I headed back home via Beddlestead Lane and Hesiers Hill, emerging at Warlingham Sainsbury's and then heading home for a morning of cleaning out the garage.

Cycling up Hesiers Hill, I began to wish I'd gone home the 'fast way', but, like all hills, it was a matter of getting my head down and getting on with it. Soon I was home, reading the Guardian and getting ready to tidy up the garage.

Sunday (today) Andy and I went to the Tatsfield Bus Stop. Why? Well, we were going to head into the village but it started to rain and we narrowly avoided a soaking, taking refuge at the bus stop where we drank tea, chatted about opening our own cycle shop and talked about this and that, although we didn't discuss Ed Miliband being appointed the new leader of the Labour Party or the Iranian president, Mr 'I'm a Dinner Jacket' having a go at the UN and blaming 9/11 on the Americans.

We cycled home the fast way, said goodbye at Warlingham Green and here I am, home and dry – we managed to avoid the rain and now it's looking a little brighter outside. I've got to make roast potatoes and cocktail sausages and I'd better get started!

Tired

I would be foolish to say that walking a total of 20 miles, wearing a fairly heavy back pack (carrying a lap top and other stuff) was not behind the general feeling of tiredness that hit me square in the face on Friday evening. I'd been doing about five miles a day, since Tuesday, and then, on Saturday, I was up and out of the house early for a cycle. To be honest, I wasn't feeling up to it and was tempted, not to abort the ride, but to say something naff like, "Let's just go to the bus stop."

Andy contemplates life in the Old Forge Deli Café on Godstone Green

Instead, we cycled to Godstone where we paid a visit to the Old Forge Deli Café and, I think, got ripped off. If a cup of tea is 80p and a slice of toast 50p, then my bill for a cup of tea and two slices of toast should have been £1.80. Why, then, was I charged £2.30? In true British style, of course, I said nothing, but that was because I hadn't actually worked out the prices; I just knew that I had £2.50 in my pocket and that my order, surely, wouldn't cost the lot. It didn't: I got 20p change.

I then emptied my flask of water on Godstone Green and Andy and I cycled back home, dreading the hill that awaited us on the other side of the A25. It wasn't too bad, though.

Sunday just didn't happen. Andy wasn't going anyway, meaning that it was down to my own motivation to get up and go; but I couldn't muster up the energy. I got out of bed, I had a mug of tea around 7am and I reluctantly put on my cycling gear in readiness to head outside. Instead, though, I paced around, wondering whether to go or not. I considered ringing Jon, but thought I'd leave it, hoping that he'd call me – but he didn't; he was thinking the same way as I was and, besides, he'd been out already, on a three-mile run, in early training for the April 2011 Marathon. I was reminded of that great quote from "uncle" John, the neighbour next door but one back at mum and dad's. He used to say, "Animals only run if they have to." Never a truer word and all that! Still, each to their own. I just can't get on with running.

The Kona Scrap resting against a tree on Godstone Green

Anyway, that was it, I didn't go cycling on Sunday despite pacing the house, taking my shoes on and off – at one stage having one on and one off – and, well, it's just not good is it? On one side I wanted to go and hated that whole thing about not getting out in the air; but on the other side, I was whacked out and couldn't face it. In the end, general fatigue won the day and I lolled around all morning, inwardly pissed off for not getting my act together, but, in a way, my body was relieved that I hadn't set foot in the garage.

I'd love to go out there now and discover a puncture. That way I could say to myself, "Oh, well, I wouldn't have been able to go anyway!"

Photograph of the Week

Warning! Ducks!

This sign is prominent as drivers and riders enter the village of Tatsfield.

Unusual photo of the week...

Check out this sunflower growing in the
gutter of my street. Amazing!

Boring photograph of the week

Turn left for Westerham and right for Botley Hill.

Check out this incredibly boring pic. It's a Give Way sign at the junction between Clark's Lane and Approach Road on the outskirts of Tatsfield, but only a few feet from the famous Tatsfield Bus Stop.

New shoes, my foot!

My new walking boots from Shoe Zone in Brixham, but
there's more than one outlet. My last pair of cycling shoes
were bought in a Shoe Zone in Huddersfield – for a fiver!

Jimmy Choo? Not a chance! Timberland boots? Oh, please! Nope, the best shoe shop in the world is Shoe Zone. Why? Because the prices are brilliant and the quality's okay too. Check out what I'm wearing in the photograph above – they're walking boots with steel toe caps and they only cost me £24.99! Ideal for cycling and walking.

For more details of Shoe Zone, click here.

To the Tatsfield bus stop – twice!

I've been on holiday in a cottage in Brixham overlooking the harbour and it was tremendous. I love small harbour towns choc-a-bloc with little fishing boats and people who resemble pirates, and Brixham fitted the bill nicely. The weather was okay. We had a rainy day (last Wednesday) and the rest of the time was a mix of sun and clear skies – I swam in the sea three times, although it was fucking cold – and there were a few changeable days when one minute it was raining and the next it was sunny.

Brixham Harbour from the house we rented for a week.

I didn't really want to come home to be honest, but I had to and now it's Monday evening and that means work tomorrow. Mind you, I enjoy my job, always have done, so that makes things a little better – thank the Lord. Another good thing about coming home, of course, is the cycling. I didn't go last week and I did get through a few Cornish pasties, so a cycle was needed.

Andy and I met at 0730hrs on Sunday, the day after I got back, and headed out (the slow way) towards the Tatsfield bus stop. There was loads to do at home so a longer cycle was out of bounds and, to be honest, I was knackered, having drove the 223 miles home the previous day. Find out more about Brixham by clicking here.

A Bristol Fighter - one of many cars from the company.

We chatted about cars and I said that I was never really bothered about them; I didn't really care for sports cars and if I did have a load of money, I'd never buy a Ferrari; I just don't see the attraction. Andy said that if he had loads of cash he'd buy a Bristol and I think I'd probably do the same. For Andy, the Bristol is a cool car because you don't see many about, they have that classic look and the company builds each car by hand. Click here for more details on Bristol Cars Ltd.

Parting company at the Good Companions, a pub in Hamsey, we went our separate ways and Andy texted me later – actually, very early in the morning, about 0545 hrs, to say he had the flu and couldn't make it. I was so relieved because I'd been at a party until gone midnight and couldn't really face a ride. I turned off my alarm and went back to bed but then, around 0900hrs, I set out alone for the Tatsfield bus stop. I had a plan: take the Saturday Guardian's Review section and a flask of tea and chill out at, yes, the bus stop. But, as avid readers of this blog will know only too well, the Tatsfield bus stop is no ordinary place: it's made of wood, it's covered (providing shelter from the rain and snow etc) and it has a long integral bench. In short, I love it and, while this might sound a little bit sad, bank holiday Monday proved to be one of the best cycling days ever for yours truly. Why? Well, I sat there, mug of hot tea by my side reading Colm Toibin's short story. The sun was shining but there was a breeze, a cool, refreshing breeze, that ruffled the tall blades of grass in front of the bus stop. Click here for more information on Colm Toibin.

Colm Toibin's short story in Saturday's Guardian Review.

I know what you're thinking: little things please little minds, but it was truly wonderful sitting there, blue skies overhead, a mild breeze, a cup of tea and the Guardian's review section. The only thing I missed was Andy's company, our usual banter and, of course, Andy's teaspoon (I had to fish out my teabag nimbly using my fingers).

I left the house much later than usual (around 9am). In fact, it took me just under an hour to reach the bus stop and then I must have been sitting there for a good 30 minutes or more before heading back home (the fast way and off-road, risking a puncture but not getting one).

It was a bit of a lazy day, thanks to that late night, although I did manage to chop down a small tree in the garden (that was encroaching on next door) and then I took a shower and went to see my mum and dad. Jon had been there earlier in the day; he'd cycled round.

...and here's yours truly, writing this blog post.

Mum makes exceedingly good cakes and I weakened and had a slice of fruit cake with my tea. We left around 5pm and then I made a cottage pie for everyone.

Cycling England for the chop?

It is rumoured that Cycling England and the long-established Cycling Proficiency Test for children are to be axed by our horrible coalition government. It's that word 'coalition' that I hate the most. Coalition forces, coalition government – horrible, horrible, horrible.

Click here for more news on the likely demise of Cycling England.

Beaver Water World, Tatsfield.

I mentioned Beaver Water World in my last post, but didn't realise what it was or what great work it's doing to protect our beavers. Check out their website by clicking here .