Notched up another 40 miler this weekend. Shame my fancy bike computer still resides on my bedside table, otherwise I could wow you all with our total cumulative mileage so far. Being techno-shy I am reliant on the availability and willingness of my friendly advisor, Mr Darius Bobac Alavi Ellis, to fit the damn device. Kate’s Dad kindly fitted hers so you’d think we’d be up and running, but as yet we’re not quite proficient at making sense of its readings. One step at a time eh.
After self inflicted food poisoning kicked in at 6am from a prawn risotto & several bottles of white wine the previous evening, I felt surprisingly good by 10am and pushed off to pick up Kate in Hammersmith. We thought better than to follow TfL’s advice; sending us along the A40 dual carriageway out towards the M25, and instead headed off to pass through suburban high street after countless suburban high street. A fairly dismal but blessfully uneventful 1 ½ hours delivered us in West Ruislip – more specifically at the door step of Mr Bruce MacDonald. Linda and Ronald (MacDonald!) seemed only mildly surprised to open the door to two sweat-drenched, lycra-clad women. I immediately receive a double blow from Ronald who mistakes some reflective strips for my bare thighs ripping through the seams of my lycras, and then consoling me as my bike 'is nothing compared to Kate's'. Low energy levels nearly lead to sense of humour failure. I smile back at my host. Bruce, who wasn’t home yet (my fault for not ringing apparently, it's not like we've cycled 20 miles to see you) arrives in the nick of time with lucozade replenishments and chocolate fingers. All was forgiven. As the MacDonald’s left for the golf course, the three of us sat down to lunch; with the quiche I had valiantly carried on my back (in a sweat-protected plastic bag, honest) as the centre piece.
With a tour of Dave Carrot’s attic studio www.myspace.com/davecarrot & a quick go on Ed Jenkins’ drums (turns out my efforts are better placed else where), some sniggering at childhood photos (nice fringe, Bruce), spotting a fox in the garden and the obligatory photograph completed, we set off for the return journey. This time a more picturesque route - thanks all round to suggestions from the MacDonalds - with us passing through leafy Osterley and Kew before going our separate ways home at Putney.
This is getting easy.
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