cycling
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Dans la Forêt
A usual road from the port following the Arques valley to the first town inland where we turn over a small stone bridge and start up a narrow lane towards the forest. A pink hue floods the sky as the sun breaches the horizon hidden beyond the hill we’re climbing. A hare jumps from the…
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Sarthe, then north again*
Glancing up from my Kindle I see it is raining heavily outside. This wasn’t on the forecast I looked at late last night as we left Newhaven so I’m glad that I was off the boat quickly and the first through passport control. Also for the first time in all the years I’ve done daytrips…
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Diamonds Are Forever
Each signpost points to somewhere I was either a few minutes or an hour or two ago, and quite often both. A back and forth route that almost retraces and crosses itself but never quite meets. A series of incredibly familiar lanes, like a list of old friends in an address book; St Helena, Streat,…
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Little
I’m soaked and distracted and I’m not sure I exchange any pleasantries as I stick my head round the door of the pub and bluntly ask “Are you serving coffee?” “Yes,” is the answer. “Awesome,” I respond before sticking my head back out the door to tell Jim the good news. – – – “Wanna…
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James Bond and cheap Jelly Babies
The rising sun gently lifts mist from the frosted hinterlands, the angular shapes of Arundel Castle stand out against the hill curving through the clear sky. I’m on an early train to Chichester for February’s ‘Randonneur Round the Year’ attempt: Buck Barn Sutton Scotney 200. It’s a week later than planned, thanks to storms Eunice…
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Bateau | Vélo | Chemin de Fer
South France calmly rolls around the horizon… It’s good to be riding on the wrong side of the road again, a smile on my face as I spin through the streets of Dieppe for the first time in over a year. I’ve missed the sight of the illuminated red diamond tabac and green cross pharmacy…
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Riding with Ravilious
We sweep down from the opera singer’s house past Virginia Woolf’s to the Ouse flood plain, the first of our Ravilious rendezvous. A heron nonchalantly flaps overhead. The riverbank into Lewes is beautifully overgrown, my shins whipped by wild grass and flowers. Butterflies skitter about. We’re the wrong side of the Ouse for the Ravilious…
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Winding Back
In the last post about Eurovespa I mentioned watching a couple of ’96 Tour stages on the side of the road. I found the negatives from a roll of film I shot at the time in a shoebox and had them scanned. Video of Stage 14 Video of Stage 15
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Winding On
An old point and shoot, one roll of film. A week off work. Aeroplane mode, wider world switched off. Perhaps an audiobook in one ear. The sun stays close to the wide crisp horizon, bright light skims the surface of the sea followed by my eyes. Low waves lazily sparkle and ripple towards the shingle.…
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Spy Deer
“Don’t you need it for Super Randonneur?” “Yeah but if we don’t finish it means I don’t have to ruin a perfectly nice holiday to Cornwall by trying to ride all the way home in 24 hours. Or do a 600 in October when the weather is cack. Maccy D in Newbury and a train…
the man from icon 