Missing keys...and then a puncture

Padlock unlocked, I'm ready to rock!

Saturday 2nd February 2013: As I write this, it's only 0717hrs and already the day is turning into a problem. First, I've got to leave for this morning's ride 30 minutes earlier than usual, which means no time at all to chill with a cup of tea and some toast. Alright, it's possible and I managed it, but then, at 0630hrs, as I was about to leave the house, no keys. Where the hell were they? Coat pocket? No. In the bedroom on the ironing board? No. On the console table? No. Kitchen? No. Where, then? In the office? I hope not, but they could be.

So, it was time to put the emergency procedure in place. Fortunately, I keep a spare bike padlock key in a secret place in a matchbox – fortunately it was still in the secret place. Right, then it was a case of going out the kitchen door instead of the front door (only my key ring has the garage door key on it), opening the garage side door, bringing the bike out into the side alley, through the side gate and off I go!

No, I'm not ready to rock – front wheel puncture aborts the ride.

So, I'm in the garage, I unlock the bike using the emergency key and...hold on, is that a front wheel puncture I see before me? It is! There's no alternative other than to abort the ride. 'Game over. Puncture.' I text Andy and that's it. Here I am, still wearing the cycling gear (nothing Lycra, just the hoodie and tracksuit bottoms). "I'm not happy, Bob. NOT happy!" as the little guy in The Incredibles says.

Today I'll be out there with the bike on its back, fixing the puncture and then tomorrow, I'll ride out. The plan is to try an alternative route to Redhill. Should be exciting.

Wind, rain and Lance Armstrong

Yours truly and Andy near Botley Hill, Sunday 27th January 2013

By 8am the rain had disappeared leaving huge puddles on the roads. We met at 0830hrs and headed for the Tatsfield Bus Stop where mum's cake was produced from my rucksack alongside a bar of Swiss chocolate for Andy and Marcia.

The rain returned briefly as we were about to leave but then eased off again and there were blue skies edging their way south from the north. Nothing ever really changes at the Tatsfield Bus Stop, apart from the conversation. Today we touched upon Lance Armstrong and why he even bothered to raise his head above the parapet. Personally, if it had been me I would have kept quiet, accepted that I'd been an idiot to myself and got on with my life in private. Why face the wagging finger of the stoney-faced reception committee when you don't have to?

In jest, I said we ought to go against the grain and support Lance Armstrong, but then, of course, imagine what it must have been like to work all your life towards winning the Tour de France only to be scuppered by somebody on performance-enhancing drugs? Perhaps all those who came in second should be made the winner, I said, but Andy said that history had recorded it that Armstrong had won the races and the people concerned would always have to explain their win along the lines of, "Well, I was technically second, but Lance Armstrong was disqualified so now I'm the winner, but yes, in reality, Armstrong won – although he was taking performance-enhancing drugs, which I wasn't, of course, so technically I am the rightful winner."

No snow left, but the pond at Sanderstead is still frozen over.

I mentioned how the whole Armstrong interview was a sham as he knew Oprah Winfrey, she was his friend and neighbour, but I guess he viewed her as the 'good cop' as she hardly gave him a hard time.

When the rain stopped and the blue skies appeared we headed for home, Andy taking the track halfway down the 269 while I continued towards Warlingham Green and home.

We stopped nearly Botley Hill to take the lead image of this post and later I snapped a shot of Sanderstead Lake, which was still frozen over following all the snow, most of which has now disappeared thanks to the rain.

Wind and rain mean the ride might be off

Andy's Kona on Kenley Airfield.

The wind has been rattling the windows and the rain has been frantically tapping on the glass for most of the night and now, at 0709hrs its still doing the same, although its dying down a little. It's odd as there's rain on the windows at the rear of the house but seemingly nothing out front. I don't mind the wind, but if it's raining too, then no way. I've sent a text to Andy suggesting we re-think and he's come back saying meet at 0830hrs instead. Now, at 0719, it's died down and I can hear the birds but then again, there's heavy gusts of wind so perhaps not. Hopefully, I'll be out of here and on the bike within the next 40 minutes.

Andy went out yesterday without me as I had things to do at home AND I was a bit knackered. More to report later, I hope.

Montreux's 'Bixi' bikes...

Montreux's own 'Bixi' bikes

I never got round to using one of them, but Montreux has its own 'Bixi' bikes, sponsored by Nestlé, which is headquartered in Switzerland. I went out of my way not to buy Nestle chocolate.

Lake Geneva

Lake Geneva, 25 January 2013

On Lake Geneva in Montreux, Switzerland

Montreux is famous for this statue of Freddie Mercury.

As company Christmas parties go, you can't go better than a trip to Switzerland and that's where I was headed on Thursday morning, leaving Heathrow around 1100hrs on a BA flight. We stayed in a hotel on Lake Geneva and an excellent time was had by all. Here are some photos of the trip.

There was plenty of time for mooching around and I managed to get in a long walk early in the morning, after breakfast in our hotel, the Eden Palace, right on the shores of Lake Geneva.

Montreux is a pleasant place and I can understand why Freddie Mercury was here; it's a peaceful place and I'd imagine people left him alone. Today his statue is a tourist attraction along with the surrounding snowcapped mountains of the Alps and, of course, Lake Geneva, which is as clear as crystal, but very cold. However, there are diving boards dotted around so I'm assuming that the weather here picks up considerably in the summer months and that holidaymakers find time to swim in the deep and clear waters.

The Confiserie Tearoom – soup of the day and cup of tea, excellent!

After breakfast, I took a long walk in the direction of Vevey where, the previous evening, we were treated to a trip on a funicular railway, which took us high up the mountain to a restaurant overlooking the lake. The walk took me to the Confiserie Tearoom where I enjoyed a bowl of soup and cup of tea and then I hopped on to the 201 bus back towards Montreux where I decided to head in the opposite direction to Villeneuve.

Switzerland is famous for many things, one being top quality chocolate and excellent patisseries selling wonderful cakes and pastries. I found one in Villeneuve and, after a brief walk around the town I sat down for another cup of tea and some kind of apple and custard creation that was amazing. I figured that after walking for over an hour, I'd burn up the cake pretty quickly.

We left Montreux around 4pm and headed for Geneve Airport and another BA flight. It was delayed by half an hour, but we made up time once in the air and landed just before 9pm. We then picked up a coach to Redhill and then I hitched a lift with my work colleague Martin, who lives close by.

On the shores of Lake Geneva, Montreux, Switzerland, 25 January 2013

The Eden Palace was an excellent hotel. The rooms were of a high quality, the service was excellent and the location perfect – right on Lake Geneva. As is now customary on this blog, below is a shot of my hotel room. Note my walking boots on the floor.

Room 207 at the Eden Palace Hotel, Montreux

More snow means no cycling at all this weekend

There was a strong chance that we'd go out today, although, somehow, I knew we wouldn't be as more snow was promised and, once again, the delivery was bang on time, as predicted by the weathermen.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. My back garden in the snow

The road outside my house was clear so I figured  – and so did Andy – that a ride would be possible, although I knew that I'd have to get the car out of the garage, take out the bike and then put the car back, which would have been a nuisance. Deep down, therefore, I was counting on the weathermen to be right, mainly because I knew darn well it would damp and very cold out there today and, next to rain, extreme cold is not good for cycling. There were rumours of icy roads too so generally speaking I was aware a ride today (Sunday) wouldn't be a good idea.

I texted Andy around 6am saying I wouldn't be going, based purely on the fact that it wasn't going to be pleasant. It was one of those 'aborts' that turns out to be the right thing. We'd been talking about a later start, meeting at 8am instead of the usual 0730, but by 0800 the snow had started to fall and now, at 1144 it's still coming down: fine snow, but constant and the black roads have turned white again.

Not sure how it would have played out, only that Andy and I would have met at the Green, where there's no cover, and probably cycled back home again, getting a soaking in the process. All-in-all, therefore, a timely and sensible 'abort', although I have no idea whether or not Andy went out alone. He might have done as he's bike's been in the repair shop and he hasn't been cycling for a couple of weeks or more. I went last weekend so I'm relatively at ease with missing out this weekend.

I'm hoping that by next weekend the snow might have thawed and the weather improved a little as I'd like to get out there – if only to eat my mum's cake and sip hot tea at the Tatsfield Bus Stop, although I could do that now so perhaps the real reason is getting out on the bike, chewing the fat with Andy who, I think, hasn't been out since the 29th December (correct me if I'm wrong, Andy).

Dog the Bounty Hunter - he looks like the lion from the Wizard of Oz

Actually, I quite like it when the snow falls. I've spent the entire weekend just lazing about in the house. The car is warm and dry in the garage, a beef casserole is cooking in the oven and outside the snow falls. All very cosy. It would be good if Percy the Parkeeper or Tales of Peter Rabbit was on the box, or Columbo, something like that.

During the afternoon I sat and watched a few episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter, which is an odd programme for so many reasons. Why do all the criminals he catches know him and treat him like an old buddy? Why are they all really amiable people? Why do they not swear at him or, worse still, why aren't guns fired? And I don't know about you, but if I was on the run, the first person I'd notice if I was on the look-out for the fuzz would be Dog himself. He looks like the lion in the Wizard of Oz for a start, he really stands out and he's not in anyway inconspicuous, is he?

I then munched on some Christmas cake, had baked beans on toast for dinner (having eaten a hearty lunch) and watched Aquamarine (a girly movie that I ended up enjoying). Lastly, I sat and watched Road to Perdition with Tom Hanks – what a fantastic movie!

Snow covers the UK (and our cycling routes)

Yours truly in the snow, Friday January 18th 2013.

The snow had been promised by the weathermen and this time they delivered. When I woke up yesterday morning it was clear and I reached work without any hassles, but the snow had started to fall and by the time I reached work it was a blizzard. It didn't stop snowing and by lunchtime it was decided to close the office and we all went home. Despite the snow, I managed to get home without any problems, eating half of my corned beef and mustard sandwiches on the train and the other half on the platform at Purley.

I called Andy and, with some bravado, suggested that unless it was actually snowing, we'd go out on a ride. What I failed to realise was that my bike was in the garage – and so was the car. Not only that, there was snow on the drive and to get the bike out would have meant getting the car on the snowy drive – which might have been problematic – and then having to negotiate slippery road surfaces. Add to that the general unpleasantness of weather like this, which is accentuated while riding a bike, and hey presto! Abort!

Behind that white garage door on the far right is my Kona.

So, here I sit in the conservatory, looking out on the snow. Snow makes everything much brighter, as if there's a full moon. It also makes things much quieter as the snow muffles sound. Yesterday I went out for walk with my daughter around 4pm as the light began to fail and the streetlights were switched on (I know, they come on automatically). There's something quite warming about walking the streets in the snow and noticing lamps on in other people's houses.

There's not much to do in the snow other than relax at home and that's what we did. We'll probably do the same today too. More snow is expected tomorrow (Sunday) so I'm not expecting the bike to come out until next weekend. Andy, if you're reading this, I've still got some slices of cake so worry not! That  and a mug of tea will make next week's ride worth the effort.

The shots accompanying this post were taken while out on the walk.

Late one to Botley Hill in the cold...

I won't lie. I very nearly didn't go at all. Up at 0600hrs having not really wanted to go the night before; and I got the distinct impression that Andy felt the same way as I noticed a text from him commenting on the cold weather. It was cold yesterday and the forecast is for more of the same, plus snow, so when I woke up this morning, having sent Andy texts along the lines of 'let's see how cold it is tomorrow' and so on, my mindset was: we're not going.

Just gone six and I sent Andy another text saying the only thing that would stop me going was if my bike had a puncture; he suggested I go check, which I did, and found that it was fine. I even commented that it wasn't that cold. But Andy had a headache and said he wasn't going so I then relaxed a bit. Surely, I shouldn't go as that was my gut feeling, but I was up and awake and why not go? But that thought lingered for hours and hours.

Halfway back along the B269 I took this shot of me and the Kona.

I remember Andy telling me that he gets grumpy if he doesn't go out for a ride and that was how I was getting: grumpy. Should I go? If so, where to? Urban ride to mum's? No, I was there yesterday. Botley? Possibly. The Woodland Trek? Too boring. Warlingham Green? Possibly.

In the end, with the time creeping towards 10am and feeling distinctly pissed off because I was hesitating and not going was now seriously on the cards, I went upstairs and strummed a few chords on the guitar. I gazed out of the window and inwardly berated myself. You must go! You must go! You won't feel settled unless you get out there. Go! Just go! So I went.

It wasn't that cold once I was moving, but I think that was a lot to do with having come from a warm place: the house. It took me ten minutes to reach the top of Church Way and head down Sanderstead High Street en route for Warlingham Green. I figured a quick 10-miler would be ample, considering the time, but the thought of pushing on to Botley nagged at me, especially as I approached the Green – now minus it's Christmas tree. But I decided to push on, perhaps to the mini roundabout beyond Sainsbury's, although I was already having that conversation with myself.

"You might as well go for Botley."
"Or the ten-mile marker at Ledgers Road?"
"But Botley's only another two miles from Ledgers Road."
"Only two miles?"
"Yes, you might as well push on."
"Yeah, you've got a point. Shall I go just to Botley or to the mini roundabout beyond it?"
"You know the rules: Botley means going to the roundabout and heading back."
"Ok, then."

So off I went, past Sainsbury's and then past Knights Garden Centre and for a minute I thought about the church, St Leonard's or doing a circuit that would bring me to the lights at Selsdon High Street. But no, I pressed on, up the hill and then to Botley Hill, round the roundabout and back, stopping along the 269 on the way back – near to a house where there are always loads of dogs barking – where I stopped and took this photograph.

It took me 90 minutes there and back but it was cold and as I approached Botley there was a little bit of snow falling, very fine, almost non-existent, but it was definitely snow.

Helen Pidd on the Raleigh Gran Sport

It's been a while since Helen Pidd has contributed a cycling review in the Guardian's Weekend magazine, although I haven't been buying it every week, so I might have missed one or two.

The Raleigh Gran Sport. Photo courtesy of The Guardian

This week, she's back with a review of the new Raleigh Gran Sport, a bike that reminds her of the first new bike she ever owned, a Raleigh racer.

Helen is one of those unfortunate people who suffer from the experience of joint birthday and Christmas presents. While my birthday is on 10 December, it's just far enough away from Christmas to avoid such a fate, although I'm sure my dad would have insisted on me having both a birthday and Christmas present, so in one sense I've always been lucky.

Helen's first new bike, however, was a dreaded joint present and when she took it down the local recreation ground she discovered that racing bikes were no longer the big fashion statement they used to be. All the kids were riding brightly coloured mountain bikes with lots of gears. Oh dear!

The problem for Helen, however, was that Raleigh makes virtually indestructable bikes so Helen was stuck with her out-of-date bike throughout the nineties when everybody else was riding mountain bikes. Still, you live and learn, Helen and hey, you did alright, here you are writing about bikes for a major national newspaper. It all turned good in the end, eh?

Helen Pidd much prefered the Trek Madone (above)

Anyway, the Raleigh Gran Sport reminds Helen of her first new bike, that old Raleigh racer, except that it doesn't really cut the mustard. While, she claims, 'hipsters' buy secondhand Raleighs these days for hundreds of pounds, she doesn't seem too impressed by the new version of her old racing bike. In fact, she makes an analogy with the Wonderbra, claiming that the bike, like the bra, "promises more than it can deliver."

Pidd says the Raleigh Gran Sport is 'a decidedly average bike' with an unresponsive steel frame and an unsatisfying ride. It was, she said, 'like trying to snog someone who won't properly kiss you back'. She wasn't happy with the metal pedal cages which, she said, scraped the ground whenever her feet weren't in properly (which was often in London traffic). The gear shifters were 'being deliberately difficult' – unlike the Trek Madone which she described as 'easy and pleasurable and similar to 'stroking a friendly cat'. Changing gear on the Gran Sport, however, was an effort.

While Pidd's original Raleigh was made in Nottingham, the new Gran Sport was constructed in South East Asia now that the company is Dutch-owned (since 2003). According to Helen, the company manufactures 850,000 bikes annually, but she reckons some of the quality of the old Nottingham-built bikes has been lost in translation. "Or am I just nostalgic for my youth?" she asks.

But Pidd still believes the Gran Sport is currently a trendy ride and that her ten-year-old self would have been happy about that.

For the original article by Helen Pidd, click here.