Tour de Cambridge

I've been bitten by the cycling bug, even more than before.  I've signed up for a London - Amsterdam - Brussels trip for next year, and am also trying to find a group ride from Edinburgh - London. 

I was back on my bicycle last weekend. But unlike my usual long distance trips, I was not cycling solo. A group of us had signed up for a charity ride, and that meant I was accompanying a couple of others - in total there was about 20 friends on the ride, but with differing abilities and speeds, and even starting points, there was no point in trying to peddle in a single group. This was the third or fourth time I've cycled to Cambridge, so not unfamiliar territory, although one of those rides was at night, so the scenery was hard to see. I cycled from home to the starting point, and was delighted that because one part is downhill, I was going quickly enough to make the illuminated 30mph sign flash up a warning to slow down. Little things. We left early because rain was forecast, and none of us wanted to get soaked to the skin....our plan mainly worked as we only had an hour of cats and dogs, and were able to warm ourselves in a pub at the finish. Two of us had broken away from the others - she is married to a VERY keen cyclist, and is in training for her own ride to Paris in September. We managed a very creditable average over the 60 miles of 27km/hour (only the British can put metric and imperial measurements in the same sentence) - this is significantly faster than I've managed before.

Due to a miscommunication, The Cat's Mother (who was driving as she doesn't cycle) didn't arrive in the city until four hours after us, and then spent another hour trying to find her way round the diversion to the hotel. Her arrival was quite important, as she had all our bags, and therefore our change of clothing with her. Oops - it was our fault as it hadn't occurred to us that an early start would mean an early arrival. Eventually, I had to leave the hotel and go and find her in the car, and then retrace my way to get back to the hotel...all a bit stressful. Nothing that a hot shower and watching the penultimate stage of the Tour de France up the mountains wouldn't cure.

We celebrated well that evening, and the next day, five of us cycled back home. As a smaller group we stuck together, taking the opportunity to stop off at a church and look at the war graves before proceeding on to Jamie Oliver's parents' pub at the (roughly) half way point. I had two misadventures: the minor road we were going along had a ford across it, and I gaily went straight through it, except that I was on slick tyres, and the road was covered in very slippery algae. I've never been off so quickly, as the bike just went from under me and I was soaked to the skin - so too was my phone (fortunately the God of mobile phones took pity on it and it still works). I laughed like a drain...I must have looked very foolish and funny as I keeled over and then struggled to get up as my feet kept slipping from underneath me; the other person who did the same was less amused...and even more so when we spotted the bridge we could have used instead. Further along I was riding along, vaguely watching the bird of prey circling above me, ready to slaughter some poor field mouse that he had obviously spotted. Suddenly I realised, that before going in for the kill, he had decided to have a crap...and yes it splattered all over me. It was a big bird and a big shit. Lucky? I don't know but again I couldn't stop laughing for the next couple of miles.

 At the start...a nice early 7.00 am departure

Contemplating my wet pants - funnily that fast-flowing ford looks like a little puddle here

Learning to walk again

Sadly one of Grandma in Cyprus' dogs has died.  Poor Penny the Jack Russell Terrier.  Not that it's unreasonable...she was ancient by any standards.  And on top of that she'd been taken from the wet, windy Suffolk countryside some years ago to live in the glorious warm/hot, sunny climate of Cyprus...that can't be a bad thing.  But she was riddled with illness, and she had reached the end of her life.  The end had been obvious for a long time, but it doesn't make it any easier...pets are life companions.  There's still Bobby, for now, but it's unlikely he will be around for much longer as he is also ancient.  So sadness is still knocking at the door.  I think it will be the first time that GinC will have been without a dog since she was a young girl.  That must be a strange and unsettling situation.  Thank heavens for the two cats she has adopted...hopefully they will provide some joy.

I have jumped off the bike a little bit to go for a run.  I may have mentioned before how much I loathe running - I feel leaden and lumpen, and move at the speed of a snail.  But, once a year, to celebrate the 2012 Olympics, there's been an run round the Park which attracts several thousand people.  First year I did it with fellow Opening Ceremony folk, last year with my friend who always wants to do new things, and this year I did it solo.  Sneakily, they increased the length from 8 to 10 km, and this in a year where I did as near as no training.  But I was determined to do it - it was the chance to run in the Stadium again; last year that hadn't been possible because it was being converted for West Ham, but this year it had been returned to an athletics track.  Anyway, I plodded round, with each stride reminding me exactly why I don't run.  I can't say it was harder than previous years, but the sun was out, so I certainly sweated.  About half way round I started to feel a slight pain in my left knee, and by the time I finished it was really sore.

Tour de France

A funny thing happened the other week.  I use a clever programme on my computer called GOTOMYPC which lets me access my home computer from another one anywhere in the world.  Very clever stuff, and completely invaluable especially when I'm not tied to my desk.  I've used it flawlessly for a few years now, and have really appreciated it.  But somehow in between logging and getting going it/I managed to post some passwords on my Facebook page.  I realised quite quickly...after only a few minutes...and immediately deleted them, but really quite worrying.  I've changed all my passwords just in case which means I will now find it impossible to log on to anything, as I'll never remember them.

And this is precisely why I write the blog...it's just too easy to forget things.

How could I possibly forget one of my 'major achievements'?

But I had.

In May I cycled from London to Paris, along with 100 other riders of various ages and abilities.  I'd trained for it of course...amazingly by May I had cycled over 3000km since the start of the year.  I was far from 'race ready', but a damned sight fitter than I have been for a long time....it does show - I'm slimmer in the face than I've been for many a year, and my pot belly is straighter than it used to be.

So we left from Crystal Palace early in the morning, with the prospect of a few showers, and headed vaguely in the direction of Dover.  It's the longest route that organised bike rides to Paris take, but as the other common one is down to Newhaven and I've cycled to Sussex enough times to make it feel like a commute, this had been the one I wanted to do.  Kent is not flat so there were some tricky bits, but really nothing too scary (though that is me writing with 2 months hindsight, not sure how I felt at the time!).  But it's certainly a beautiful county and the rain stayed away.  On these long rides you follow luminous pink arrows...you may have seen them and wondered what they are; now you know...but such is human nature, some people feel the need to remove them because they don't like cyclists.  Odd isn't it?  Even with the arrows, you'd be surprised how easy it is to get loss...so it was a real lesson in keeping focused and always concentrating on the road ahead.

Everyday we cycled for half the morning, stopped for water, carried on until lunchtime where we were served a gourmet feast by our traveling chefs before cycling on until the afternoon break and then on to our night time hotel.  French roads are generally better maintained than ours, but often the surface is quite rough to start with, so I'd say in any debate it's a draw as to which is actually better.

Most people shared a room.  I guess you could say I was lucky...I had a room to myself.  But it was simply because my roomie had had a heart attack a couple of weeks before the trip.

I would say there were certain 'types' on the trip.  A few groups of northern me who were fiercely competitive amongst themselves, and quite cold to outsiders.  Whether this was because they were northern I know not, but they were and they were.  Men in general were obsessed with their machinery, and with their heroic exploits ( I was going down the road at 45 mph and the wheel came off, but I still managed to stay upright....), whilst the women would generally talk about the countryside and the lovely weather.  There were the keen cyclists who went as fast as they could, the ones who created a small group and then stuck with it, and then there were the folk who just got on with the task in hand. 

Most people came in pairs or groups, and a few were on the trip as soloists.  That included me...and it suits me completely.  Even with a large group, people cycle at different paces, so along the route the cyclists string out....by the end of the day, some were arriving up to three hours after the first finishers.  I preferred to cycle mainly by myself...I don't enjoy chitter chatter with people I hardly know, and the solitude gives me the chance to think and contemplate - and also to enjoy the scenery.

Northern France is not quite as flat as you might think, so there were some quite strenuous times.  Most interestingly for me were the lovely villages...many with tumbledown houses or chateaux; quite beautiful and timeless.  There were plenty of friendly people around to encourage us along.  The ugliest town in the world must surely be Beauvais...a hideous collection of industrial and retail estates; our hotel was next to a graveyard!

I did notice the strain of riding for several days, but it wasn't as bad as I was expecting at all...in fact I felt it would have been better if we'd done the ride in two and a half days, not the three and a half it took...generally I was quite quick so had finished the allocated distance by 3 o'clock...which did have the benefit of plenty of time to enjoy a beer or two in the sunshine.

Entering Paris was quite an experience - we had to ride in a convoy with the support vehicles flashing their lights and blowing their horns...it wasn't something that I was quite comfortable with...I'd have preferred to have been more discrete.  But we did arrive at the Eiffel Tower and had a great celebration which carried on late into the night.  I felt I'd achieved, it had been a stretch, but not too much of one; I'd met all sorts of interesting people and seen France in a new light.  In fact it was so good I'd put it right up there with the best experiences of my life!  I would love to do it all again; in fact I may well do.  Just to cap it, when I got back I realised that I only had to cycle another 31km to have done 1000 in a month...so I went off to the Lee Vally Velodrome out door track to clock those up, even though it was pouring with rain...

The photos are in slightly random order, simply because of my tardiness!

View from the hotel to the starting point

We both needed a rest before we started

Arrived in Dover

Refreshment needed

Waiting at the port

Loading up

On board

Neatly stacked

No idea...but obviously we'd stopped for a while

View of graveyard from our hotel in Beauvais

Always keep your back to Beauvais

Blackpool.  Not really.

I think I'm smiling

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

The sticker was a brilliant, brilliant present from The Boy

...then the good

Well it came as quite a surprise to realise just how few photographs I've taken this year.  A combination of too much cycling, too many builders and just getting distracted.  Nonetheless, as they say, pictures speak louder than words; our new kitchen is born

First the bad

Are you interested in our kitchen?  It's finished after a fair few months.  But you do have to wait a little longer to see the results, as I need to get this off my chest first.  Building work is never much fun and I wonder if ours was any better or worse than the average.

Anyone who knows me will know that I've developed a habit of falling out with everyone...it's a habit that I regard as worse than smoking.  I can't say I enjoy it at all.  The Cat's Mother on the other hand falls out with no one.  That's a good habit, although occasionally quite annoying.  Anyway, on this particular occasion, we're both of a similar mind.  Some quotes from e-mail exchanges with our new kitchen supplier...purveyors of luxury kitchens to the stars (supposedly).  I was going to include their name, but perhaps it's not necessary...you can always ask if you want to know.  The blue quotes are from them. 

I apologise if we have indeed not lived up to your expectations

I apologise for any inconvenience you have suffered so far

I will find out what is happening this morning and call you

Whilst I do not know any detail of your particular job, it is fair to say that you appear correct regarding the lack of communication!! For this I humbly apologise. For what it is worth I agree our internal level of communication is nowhere near what it should be and this is something we Te [sic]working hard to change. The upturn in Our Global business levels, has left us playing catch up. No excuse I know, but at least an honest response.

Thank you for your time on the phone earlier, and again apologise for the lack of communication regarding the information below not being relayed to you

I care not whether this offends you

Thank you for your feedback, and I shall be ensuring that your experience is not repeated in our future installations, as the journey is as important as the final product, which I am sure will look fantastic

I would indeed like to meet with you. You are absolute correct that in a Workd [sic] awash with "luxury brands" it is the "experience" as much or even more than the product that defines true luxury.

I cannot guarantee that meeting me will benefit you that much however it will help me ensure that we do not inconvenience others unnecessarily.

So I agreed to meet on a date specified by the CEO, and have heard nothing since.....would I recommend them?  Would I hell, I would recommend anyone but them.....

  

Funeral for a stranger

We've taken to seeing bands 'just in case' it's the last time they tour.  That was our reason for seeing The Eagles earlier this year, and I guess to a certain extent Paul Simon as I mentioned in the last post.  The Who, adn the Rolling stones are well up on our list now.  A couple of weeks ago we headed to the O2 to see Fleetwood Mac.  The problem with the O2 is that too often you sit so far away from the band themselves you spend the evening watching the screens, which rather defeats the object I think...and so it was this time.  Not to worry, the songs are fantastic...although its fair to say that the first half was galloped through as if they had the last bus ti catch.  Christine McVie was making a triumphant return...and just in case we forgot we were told repeatedly throughout the show.  My favourite sign that this is a collection of phenomenal egos was that instead of having the name of the band on the drums, it was merely Mr Fleetwood's initials.  His ten minute solo was interminable.  So good songs, poor show...although we were the only ones who seemed to notice.

I can't remember when the last time was that I test drove a car before I bought it.  I work on the basis that all cars are pretty good these days, so I don't need to.  That could have been disastrous when i bought my last Jeep, because most of the reports in car magazines liken it to tractor.  But as it turned out, that agricultural feel was what has made it very special for me...it's a challenge to drive, and has acres of personality.  Everytime I got in it since I bought it in 2009, it managed to put a smile on my face.  No other car has ever done that.  But time has passed, the government has gone from extolling the virtues of diesel to vilifying it, and I've never kept a new car for more than three years.  So I decided to replace it...and for the first time I decided I would replace my current car with the same again.  But this time with a higher spec and petrol engine, and (because manual is no longer available) an automatic gearbox.  Metallic bronze instead of silver.  After placing the order away back in December, the Beast was delivered just before my birthday.  And what a transformation the new car is.  It has been turned by the designers from an agricultural workhorse into a luxury cruiser.  Smooth, powerful and full of bells and whistles.  The colour was not quite as suggested, and that has given rise to endless humour amongst friends.  Bling it certainly is.  At least it is not out of place in darkest Essex...I'll be getting a vajazel next.  So far I like it, but don't yet love it...hopefully that will come.  The old one is yet to be sold...so if you know someone who would be interested, let me know...just like a pet it must go to a caring home.

I've come to like going to funerals.  That feels peculiar to me...but I have a reason.  I went to the funeral a couple of weeks ago of someone I didn't know.  His parents taught me at school, and I have enormous respect for them, so when I heard the news of his premature death due to complications from malaria, I felt it was something I wanted to do.  His father seemed to be bearing up well, although his mother couldn't hide the impact of losing her youngest son was having on her.   So why did I like going to this funeral?  It was because of the eulogy by his brother, which brought him to life in a vivid fashion.  An extremely talented pilot who lived a life of adventure whilst retaining his passion for his family and home country.  I felt completely lifted to hear about him, and it was true to say this was a celebration.  Of course, I would rather there had been no reason at all for me to be there.

Post Modern music tastes

This post has been sitting around for ages...it was going to be much longer...but who ever said 'bigger is better?'

Three more launderettes have gone up...I'm still not sure that I've found my way with it yet, so any guidance appreciated here

I've been lucky this year with music.  First of all I discovered Robert Plant.  Or perhaps I should say rediscovered.  I picked up a copy of his most recent album and have hardly stopped listening to it.  I've enjoyed it so much that I've gone out and bought a whole stack of others, and I've enjoyed each and every one from start to finish.  Of course, I've known of Robert Plant for many decades...school days were spent listening to Led Zep blast out down the dorm...but perhaps like whisky it was a taste that I only picked up when I'd matured a bit.

The other amazing discovery is Post Modern Juke Box - essentially they put modern songs into a time machine.  I've been so over excited by their stuff that we've bought tickets for their next show in Engerland - even though that's not until March next year.  Enjoy this:



There's many more videos to see and enjoy...so please do, and if you want to join us next year, let me know!

We went to see Sting and Paul Simon at the O2 in April.  Not two concerts, but one as they shared the stage together.  It's an odd combination, but one that works very well indeed.  they mostly sang separately, but occasionally sang together.  In a case of romantic symmetry, The Cat's Mother had seen Paul Simon, and I had seen Sting before, so it was great fun to be seeing them both together together.  Naturally, it was a bit of a greatest hits show, and none the worse for that.  Luckily we were quite close...well Paul Simon is very short, and Sting's face was largely covered by a very bushy beard.  We came away having enjoyed three hours of great music performed by two terrific musical stars supported by a large band...in fact two of them.  But, much as I enjoyed it, there was something that didn't quite seem right...I can't quite put my finger on it, but it was definitely an oddity, irrespective of how enjoyable.