onionbagblog

To Walton! …on Sunday morning

Well, that was the plan. I then thought let’s add in another dimension and make it a more circular route on the Raleigh electric.

Hang on – how about stretching the trip to take in Dovercourt?

I lifted a route from a pal on Strava. It said: Dovercourt 60km. Yep, that should do. So what if it started and ended in Sunny Colch? I could pick up the route somewhere along the peninsular.

Except my Beeline Velo 2 didn’t pick up the route.

Arse.

I knew I was riding in the right direction, but the arrow was pointing in the opposite way.

Oh well.

I decided on a DIY approach. I cancelled the Strava route and loaded up a direct ride over to Dovercourt. That was easy enough.

The lanes were quiet; poppies are starting to poke through, brightening up the undergrowth like daytime strobe lights.

Dovercourt was busy with half term holiday action. It was also rather chilled by the coast. I tried to stay in the sun and out of the shadows.

I didn’t hang around long.

What now? A direct tracing of the route back to Weird Wiv? Nah. That’s sounds dull. I told the Beeline to take me over to Thorpe-Le-Soken on the quietest route, and then I would pick up from there.

I reached destination Thorpe. My arse was starting to feel saddle sore.

OUCH.

The run in back to Weird Wiv included an extra loop around the town. I wanted my Strava to clock up 75km. Job achieved.

Chapeau!

I was back home in time for Three Screen Sunday.

Actually, it was Two Screen (Surrey in the t20 and Everton scrapping to avoid the drop) with Forest in my AirPods and on the beach at Selhurst.

The ‘rrey had a rare off day, Everton did their Dogs of War thing. Forest partied, on and off the pitch.

And so a decent end to the season with a 16th place finish. The aim was always 17th – although I predicted 15th this time last year. Throw in a League Cup semi and we’ve done rather well.

#loll******er

#lolDIRTYLeeds

Two Stars on the Badge, and never prouder.

Another day, another bicycle ride. My right calf is playing up again. And so no ParkRun.

Bugger.

But a bicycle ride will do just fine, especially if it means I can take in Day 2 of Ride Ldn as the world’s elite women riders roll out around the bloody Estuary Wilds.

I passed many other cyclists as I made my way over to Abberton. I’m not stating anything new when I saw that most roadies fail to return a friendly wave when you pass them, whereas other riders have a little more cycling etiquette.

I did randomly hook up with a very friendly Aussie rider. He clocked my Raleigh electric, and politely asked if he could drift in my slipstream.

Happy to oblige, possum.

I wasn’t entirely sure where I was heading, apart from the general direction of Abberton Reservoir. I found myself riding the Ride Ldn route whilst the roads were still open.

It was a race against the clock. I had work responsibilities later back at base. I wanted to get as far ahead on the course as I could, before the peloton chased me down.

I was caught short and had to take a pit stop roadside. Now would not be a good time for the pro riders to catch up. Taking a piss on live TV is never a good look.

A magnificent pheasant was also crouching in the undergrowth. He seemed completely oblivious to the cycling circus that was about to pass through.

I finally settled on my spot, just a short ride along from the main Reservoir. I strategically positioned myself on a bend, perfect for capturing the peloton as it slowed down.

Ten minutes later and WOH.

There they go.

Apart from a lone breakaway rider, the peloton remained as one. It was quite a sight seeing it take the corner at a tremendous pace.

The road was soon re-opened. I completed the Abberton loop, stopping off at the pool for a lunchtime swim. It took me around a dozen lengths before I found my rhythm.

The Postman Delivers: Three Alabama 3 CD’s, and Simple Minds’ New Gold Dream. The A3 are rarities; I had Simple Minds on vinyl way back when, but flogged it for fag money. FOOL.

I caught up with some podcast action in the afternoon. The BBC Nottingham look back on the Notts County season is superb listening. GET IN the Football League said it all. If you know, you know.

It’s great to get the World’s Oldest Football League Club sign back up down at The Lane.

To the Sailing Club!…. early evening. We had a WivGigs Saturday social row. Two boats were launched on the Sailing Club hard.

I was in Audacity. We headed downstream seeing how far the tide would take us. There was an obstacle course of some young Cadet sailors to negotiate first. The fleet looked impressive.

A tricky manoeuvre took place with a game of musical chairs in the boat. We swapped various places whilst other crew members kept on rowing.

The backdrop of the green growth on the trees and the dark blue sky was stunning. We didn’t have too long to take it in. An emergency stop was required as an over-eager young Cadet boat failed to spot us.

A decent row.

I was back home in time to catch the play-off final.

Football, bloody hell, etc.

I wouldn’t want to go through that again. Forest had it easy last year in comparison.

Buzzed: Lambeth Council sets wheels in motion for Loughborough Road Healthy Route, promising safer and accessible travel

Album of the Day: Patti Smith – Horses

I know I should adore this album. Everyone else seems to. But I find it a little meh. I get the raw energy, but the songs sound half-finished to me. It’s not exactly a party floor filler, either. Sorry.

⭐ ⭐

Another morning, another half hour on the phone to silly Royal Mail. They’ve admitted that the unknown item I paid the extra £1.50 postage on has been lost.

Alresford sorting office is shit.

A refund is coming my way.

Whoop-de-do.

I’ve still no idea what the unknown item is. I’m not expecting any eBay goodies. It may be a life changing letter offering me financial rewards. It may be a dental appointment.

I wasn’t in the mood to haggle over the latest broadband bill. For some reason it’s £2 more than I was expecting. I know the prices are going up, but I factored this in. I’m switching next month anyway. I surprised myself in being able to let this one go.

I had the afternoon free to chase down the Ride London race as it rolled out through the bloody Estuary Wilds. I set off on the roadie against a ferocious headwind. I missed the electric assist boost as soon as I left Weird Wiv.

The wind turbines on the Tendring border were in panic attack mode. I was under-dressed, even with a pair of summer tights, arm warmies and a gilet.

I caught up with the Marshall bus outside of Little Bromley. This was dropping off yoof in high viz every half a km or so. They looked bored out of their brains.

I was unsure when the roads would be closed. I decided to tag behind the Marshall bus, thinking that as long as it was moving, the roads would be open.

One of the Marshall yoof clearly didn’t know that this was a women’s race. He clocked me on my roadie, and assumed that I was part of the peloton. He gave me a cheer, and wished me good luck.

Erm, chapeau, Marshall yoof.

I reached the outskirts of Bradfield. The dip ahead looked down below out across the Stour. This seemed like a decent place to set up camp. I wasn’t alone with two other cycling groups having gathered.

And then came the long wait.

It was a bloody long wait in an exposed spot.

I checked the various feeds and saw that the race was riding behind schedule. Blame that ferocious headwind.

Around half an hour later and the first race vehicles passed through. Then the team cars, and finally I saw the helicopter about 1km away.

Here we go.

I wasn’t expecting the race to be so fractured at this point. There was around ten different groups as the peloton was hopelessly split.

The final rider was struggling to keep ahead of the broom van. The poor girl had ripped lycra and the blood and bruises to show for it.

Bike racing is brutal.

And then it was over. I made my way back around a circular route back to base. I collapsed on the sun bed as soon as I got in.

I tried to listen to the latest Forever Forest podcast. Never listen to podcasts when you are feeling tired.

I had a new burst of energy as Surry were teeing off in the hit ‘n’ giggle back in S Ldn. We watched the convincing win over Kent.

It’s been twenty years since the ‘rrey won the Blast.

Blimey.

Buzzed: MP Bell Ribeiro-Addy shunted out of Streatham to make way for the returning New Labour Golden Boy Steve Reed

“If you think Lambeth Labour has a few little local difficulties, then this is nothing compared to the meltdown of Croydon Labour”

BLOGGED: Crouching Travel, Hidden Greenery: ECC bin Active Travel

“Colchester City Council and Essex County Council – a true working partnership with both sides not at all suspicious of each other. Nope. Not here”

Album of the Day: Quicksilver Messenger Service – Happy Trails

Oh joy – another pub rock outtake. This album dragged. Complete nonsense and nothing to draw me back in. CHANGE IT.

⭐

There was a great James Acaster Mixtape on Late Junction. Plus a half decent ramble about why mixtapes remain important.

I cycled off on the Raleigh electric for a swim. I had a few errands later around town that required some heavy lifting.

I passed another cyclist along Boundary Road riding a passenger cargo bike. There was no ankle biters sitting in the front, but it was a positive sighting, all the same.

The swim was a struggle. I was one stroke short each length of where I should be. I was surprised to clock under 17 minutes for the forty lengths.

To Lidl! On the Raleigh electric!

It’s always a joy to ride this bicycle. I look forward to it. Other bicycles can be a means to an end.

Top of my shopping list for Lidl was a hammock.

#odd

The Lidl app pinged me saying that I should get a shifty on and snaffle up the discount. I walked up and down the gypo aisle, but there was no hammock to be found.

I loaded up the Raleigh electric panniers with cheapo Lidl BOOZE and yoghurt instead.

Royal Mail promised to deliver the whatever parcel that I paid extra postage on today. Royal Mail of course didn’t deliver. The Alresford sorting office is shit.

I put in the phone call asking for an update whilst sweeping up all the fallen wisteria blossom. I’m not wasting half an hour of my time sitting around in a queue.

I switched to The Word podcast on Tina Turner. I never knew that Mark Knopfler wrote Private Dancer. Or that yer girl wore a wig.

Like a FOOL I looked on discogs at prices for the British Electric Foundation album. I think I’ll give this one a miss.

My watched pinged saying that J-Roy has ditched the England ODI team in favour of some crappy US hit ‘n’ giggle. Is he even a Surrey player still?

Spotify served me up an add for a Clacton retirement home. I became paranoid about my modern interweb searches and direct marketing.

Some route planning took place ahead of the Women’s Ride Ldn that is coming to the bloody Estuary Wilds in the morning. Mistely was the plan. I may take in a quiet Little Bromley lane instead.

Attention turned to HQ early evening for the ‘rrey away against the ‘Sex in the hit ‘n’ giggle.

It was good to see Overton back wearing the Three Feathers. There was also a decent knock from TC, another Surrey player that I was beginning to think that I had imagined.

BLOGGED: LibDems go with Minority Administration as Labour Dither

“If there’s anything the Labour Group dislike more than going into coalition with the LibDems then it’s allowing the Tory Bogeyman back into the Town Hall”

Album of the Day: Marvin Gaye – Here, My Dear

I love the way this album blends together. It’s more like one constant stream than 13 individual songs. As a concept album, the subject matter of divorce is a little, erm, leftfield. It must have been a particularly painful divorce to stretch to a double album. The album covers is bonkers. Coked up Marv at his best.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Some Alabama 3 rarities appeared on eBay. Oh, go on then. A little wheeling and dealing later and they were ready for me to check out.

I followed Mayor Making remotely for Sunny Colch. It was most odd.

Ah, but it’s tradition, etc. Tradition is shit things that have been around for too long.

Democratically accountable politicians ponced around in silly robes. Council officials wore ridiculous wigs. Secular prayers blessed the occasion.

wtaf?

Back in the real world and I spent a little extra time on a Buzz story for tomorrow morning. It looks like the Lambeth patch is set to see the return of an old ‘friend.’ Pity the poor folk of Streatham. And yep, the Nu Labour arse has still blocked me.

I played around a little with Photmator in an attempt to further streamline my photo editing workflow. I can’t see what it can offer me that GIMP can’t already. I removed the app when I was asked to fork out £30 to unlock essential features.

To Alresford! …early evening.

We had another walking football training session. This was one of the most competitive in a while. A few new faces have shaken things up, adding a little grit to our team.

I’ve found myself playing further and further upfield. Modern Football bores would no doubt call me a false No.9.

I’m just living out my Nigel Clough fantasies, innit.

I was back at base in time for the second half of the Brighton Vs Man City match. It annoyed me to hear the Sky commentators talk of City dropping points in the Forest 1-1 draw.

How about Forest dropping points against Man City?

LIVE the dream, Jase.

A tough run for Tuesday morning. I wasn’t feeling it from start to finish throughout the 10km along the estuary. Oh well.

Album of the Day: Solomon Burke – Rock ‘N Soul

I didn’t give this the attention it deserves – work shit, innit. From what I heard, it sounds like a monument of an album. The subtle horns on He’ll Have to Go add to the emotion of the song. Three stars on a half-hearted first listen. It’s probably worth at least one more when I get to grips with the album.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I managed to get a Thames Water engineer booked in for the flat for next month.

Gis a water metre, etc.

We tried this 15 years ago and it wasn’t possible. Thames Water has been hassling us in recent months to install one.

I can’t see what has changed with the infrastructure in the past 15 years – nothing has. But it does seem a little unfair that we’re stuck on a standard tariff with minimal use.

Disclaimer: I never wash at the flat. That’s what Brixton Rec is for, innit.

I told myself not to waste any further time chasing Royal Mail for the extra £1.50 postage I paid for an unknown item at the start of the month.

…and so I chased the extra £1.50 postage. Half an hour later and Royal Mail told me that the missing item will be delivered on Thursday.

It won’t.

I had the exact same situation at the start of the year. Since the sorting office moved out of Weird Wiv and to Alresford, they’ve been shit.

The rest of Tuesday was busy with work duties. Martin Stephenson and the Daintees was the surprise CD find from over three decades ago.

I also made progress through a pile of reggae 12’s. The curse of DJ Wrongspeed kicked in. One vinyl was 33rpm. Soft reggae sounds like a mid 80’s Bat Benatar power ballad when played as a 45.

BLOGGED: Coalition – Wot Coalition?

The AGM is going to be, erm, interesting tomorrow morning.

I did the veg run early evening. The bags are laid out in the pick up shed, each with a name label. It’s like a Who’s Who of Weird Wiv tree huggers.

*raises hand*

Album of the Day: The Doors – L.A. Woman

If this didn’t have the name of The Doors on the front, then you might dismiss it as a CD sold after a pub gig by a village blues band.

⭐

Monday was a day of transition. It started in Sunny Stockwell and ended back in the bloody Estuary Wilds.

I caught up with the Garibaldi Red Survival Saturday podcast on the train. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t enjoy watching Forest. My nerves have been off the scale throughout the season.

I love the pre-match build up with all the press conferences, new stories and online speculation. Likewise for the post match reflection.

But match days themselves have been tough watching / listening this year.

The Postman Delivers: a couple of CD’s were waiting for me back at the other end of the train line: Who’s Afraid of The Art of Noise and Bill Evans’ Sunday at the Village Vanguard.

Nice.

Plus a pair of budgie smugglers that I admit are a little on the tight size.

The rest of the day kinda drifted with acclimatisation.

aka bloody housework.

It’s also the BEST week of the year with RHS Chelsea. We binged on the first day of telly coverage, before switching to the incredibly dull Newcastle Vs L******er.

To the Serpentine Swimming Club! …on Sunday morning.

I can’t justify a swimming membership for the bloody Estuary Wilds, AND the lovely Lido right now. But woh, I do miss cold water swimming.

Hurrah then for the £20 annual Serpentine membership. I can swim every day of the year each morning. It’s a lovely ride on the quiet route I managed to map out as well.

Having said that, the stretch that takes you around the stupid Palace and up towards Hyde Park Corner has felt like it has had shitty road closures for the past couple of years.

This Jubilee, that funeral, some shitty Coronation.

Whose streets? OUR streets, etc.

It was a joy to get a clear passage this morning. I arrived outside the Serpentine Cafe with the smell of Sunday morning bacon frying.

To swim or to eat? Maybe both.

The water temperature was at a balmy 15 degrees. I wouldn’t say it was clear, but it was algae free, if a little choppy.

I managed three circuits of the Lido cordoned off area. One day I will feel adventurous enough to swim with the big boys all the way down to the Serpentine bridge.

Sunday morning is quite a social scene at the Serp. I get the impression it’s the coming together of the various Lido tribes. Brockwell, Tooting, Parliament Hill – all roads lead to the Serpentine on a Sunday.

It was also a dog friendly morning. Your social status at the Serpentine seems to increase if you rock up with Bonzo.

I felt chilled doing the outdoor Lido shimmy as I tried to put my Y-Fronts back on with only the back up of a loosely held towel.

Some fella next to me was warming up with some impressive skipping rope action.

I had the perfect ride back down to Sunny Stockwell. There was a green carpet ride with the traffic lights.

Breakfast was taken in the company of Robert Elms. The Rock ‘n’ Roll Routemaster had a great feature on the visit of Jerry Lee Lewis to the UK in 1958.

Lidl pinged, offering up a freebie item from the bakery for my loyalty. That’s my kinda Sunday morning ping. I headed out to snaffle up a pan au chocolat.

A S Ldn Yoof cycled along Lansdowne Way on a Lime bike, and then dumped the machine right in the middle of the pavement. I wasn’t the only person thinking wtf. A helpful local type beat me to it in moving the bike and having a quiet word with S Ldn Yoof.

Some serious progress was made publishing school content. I’ve streamlined the workflow once again. It’s right down to the bone, without compromising much on the front end.

I watched the first half of DIRTY Leeds away at West Ham. I also dipped in and out of Forest Twitter throughout the day. Laughing at a relegation battle when you’re no longer involved is lol funny.

A brief Sunny Stockwell photo walk broke up the school publishing. I wanted to head towards Brixton to buy a bowler hat that A wouldn’t allow me to buy yesterday. She now admits that it rather suits me.

My circuit continued over to Slade Gardens, slightly off the main Stockwell drag radar. To my surprise, the Flute Man of SW8 had made it over here.

full flickr

The eBay mails included a very rare Celebrate the Bullet cassette by Selecter. I’m after a CD version. I’m not sure that it even exists. I tipped off R about the tape.

I binged on the Drum ‘n’ Bass show throughout the evening. The Drop of the Week was a great mix of Blinded by the Lights by Mistress.

I’m back in the bloody Estuary Wilds tomorrow.

Oh dear.

Survival Saturday. One long season, sandwiched with a silly World Cup break. Newcastle away last August now seems like a long, long time ago.

But how to pass the time ahead of the 5:30pm KO at The World Famous City Ground?

Don’t worry. I had plans.

I caught up with the Blur interview with the Boy Lamacq over breakfast. There’s some great chemistry and a shared Sunny Colch history between them. The track showcased from the new album sounds promising.

To Dulwich ParkRun!

Brockwell is off limits for the next month, thanks to the bloody Great Wall of Brockwell. No worries. Dulwich is flat as a pancake. It’s perfect for any *ahem* PB chasers.

That will be me, then,

There was a flood to negotiate along Brixton Road first. I’m not sure what was causing it. I dismounted outside the Rec and walked along the road until the Atlantic Rod turn off.

The scene changed again when I reached Herne Hill. An overheard traffic light conversation confirmed that I was in SE24:

“Sophie has a ballet lesson this morning.”

But OF COURSE she does.

Rapha clothing was then on the radar as I approached Le Velo. The Track Boys of S Ldn were rolling up ahead of the Intermediate Saturday session. Rumour has it that you can only ride if you’re wearing Rapha.

Dulwich ParkRun was busy with Brockwell refugees. I spotted many familiar faces warming up. I had a brief chat with S, a fellow Lido swimmer.

The Race Director was a one. He delivered what he called a sermon ahead of the countdown.

“Dearly Beloved…”

He then read out the opening intro from Prince’s Let’s Go Crazy.

Like I said, he was a one. But he put a smile on my face ahead of the 5km run.

I felt fighting fit after Body Pump the night before. I had a light breakfast and was hopeful of a decent time. I wasn’t PB chasing, but Dulwich ParkRun kinda shifts you into that frame of mind.

I knew I was on for a fast run after the first split was called out after the first lap. Come the second lap and I was maintaining the pace.

I trailed off for the final lap. I came close to a chunder moment as I pushed myself over the finish line.

21 minutes on the dot. Two seconds off a PB. Arse.

A quick clean up back at base, and then To The Oval!

It was Day 3 of the ‘rrey at home to Kent. It was also a rare His ‘n’ Hers day out in the Peter May. A rocked up from the bloody Estuary Wilds.

I locked up the Raleigh 20 inside the ground. Some fella then parked his Gocycle 4i next to mine. I was in complete envy and told him so. The 4i cost £4,360 more than my Raleigh…

The cricket was interesting. The ‘rrey took four late wickets yesterday. They picked up where they left off in the morning session. Kent’s second innings was over with an hour left to play ahead of luncheon.

The 58 needed for the win was chalked off half an hour later. That was a trip worthwhile, A. I took six bottle of cheapo Lidl BOOZE into The Oval; I left with six bottles of cheapo Lidl BOOZE.

We walked back to the flat along Dorset Road. The new South Lambeth Estate block is complete, and the LTN infrastructure is up and running. It’s quite a change since we last lived here in 2010.

And so what to do with an unexpected free afternoon as the countdown to KO continued?

We decided on a Brixton to Brockwell walk, taking in some old haunts. A got to see Flutie up close and in full action as we headed up Stockwell Road. The Flute Man of SW8 was making the most of the Transpontine sun.

We shared commentary of Wolves Vs Everton in the AirPods. I explained to the Toffee Nose A that I wanted Everton to lose, but not be relegated. This would help Forest to survive with one game to go.

We both shared a dislike for L******er and DIRTY Leeds.

A few Brixton detours took place, and then we reached the Lido Cafe.

“Have you got a booking, Sir?”

Erm, no.

Stick yer poncey Lido Cafe.

By pure chance we bumped into Boy Y from SW9. He was polite, charming and confident. A real credit to the school and his family. A was impressed.

We walked around the bloody Great Wall of Brockwell and found sanctuary in the Secret Garden. It was peak allium season.

A brief stop at Brockwell Hall for a drink, and then we headed back down to Herne Hill for the Oxfam shop. I limited myself to a strict ten minutes digging in the CD racks. There was some decent stock, but I managed to resist.

We were back in the flat to catch the build up for the Forest match. A buggered off back to the bloody Estuary Wilds, and I bedded down for a very stressful couple of hours.

The first half flew by with the cushion of the Forest goal. The second half dragged. I was convinced Arsenal would find an equaliser.

I restrained myself at the final whistle, but the feeling of achievement was immense. Forest are safe ahead of the final day of the season.

I predicted at the start of the season that we would finish 15th. It now looks more likely that it will be 16th, but we could still go ahead of West Ham.

What a season, what a club.

Two Stars on the Badge. And proud.

Oh – and 22k steps for me today.

An empty Larkhall Park for the early Friday morning run. I’m not sure why, but it was deserted compared to 24 hours previously.

There was a lone dude shooting some hoops on the basketball court; and then a dog walker who was kicking a football for Bonzo to fetch, rather than a tennis ball.

Plus me, with a very slow pace. I hadn’t fully woken up, despite three cups of tea between 6-7am.

Buzzed: Lambeth sets out plans to use central government money to help residents suffering with the cost of living crisis

“In an effort to address the cost of living crisis, Lambeth Council has outlined its plans to support residents through the allocation of central government grants and additional funds from the Council’s budget.”

A bit more Buzzed: Lambeth LibDems select Chris French as their Parliamentary candidate for Vauxhall ahead of the next general election

“If he is to be successful at the next general election then he will need to overturn a huge Labour majority of 19, 612. Florence Eshalomi is expected to defend her seat for Labour once again.”

I made the short bicycle ride for a school day in SW9. It looked like the primary schools of Lambeth had a Dress as a Tiger Day. Stockwell Road was full of little ankle biters wearing tiger costumes.

Back in the big school and it was another mixed day with all sorts of randomness taking place. My watch pinged during guided reading letting me know that I had won a pair of budgie smugglers on eBay. A photo even flashed up, which was a little inconvenient.

Spirit in the Sky came as a surprise leftfield choice from Girl Y when asked for a song choice for some relaxing music for the session.

I got to use my ‘O’ Level drama skills as the Year 9 students ran through a scene from the Scottish Play. I ended up dead on the classroom carpet after having been stabbed by a ruler.

Meanwhile my Gangnam Style dancing ahead of a PE lesson went a little wrong. Leave all your dignity at the school gate, Sir.

I had just enough energy to make the short bicycle journey back to South Lambeth Road at school chucking out time. The Flute Man of SW8 guided me along with his customary calling tune. It was good to see Flutie again. He has been AWOL for most of the week.

Album of the Day: Supertramp – Crime of the Century

A little too clever, a little too knowing. But when it comes down to it, this is just dull music. It’s hardly rock ‘n’ roll, is it? There’s some half decent melodies in here like Hide In Your Shell. But it’s not enough to bring me back. Dreamer is a great song btw.

⭐ ⭐

To Brixton Rec! …early evening.

My Friday night middle age nightclub of choice was a booking for Body Pump with J. There’s the booming house music, the bright lights in the fitness studio and a rooftop view out across the City. My kinda clubbing.

This was the first time I have attended one of J’s classes since the Active Lambeth takeover. He looked the part in the new AL uniform.

Soon we were back in the old routine. I’ve been shouted at by J on and off for the best part of 28 years. Body Pump should be painful. The dance element certainly was. Almost three decades on and I still can’t find the rhythm.

I had to cycle past the smackheads along the Piss Alley leading from the Rec on to Brixton Station Road. They were so out of it that it wasn’t really a concern.

A female cyclist wearing incredibly high heels on a Lime bike overtook me.

Chapea, Madam!

I was back at base and showered in time to catch the second half of the Barnsley Vs Bolton play-off match. The South Yorkshire Div 1 final looks like being a tasty affair.

News dropped late in the day of a gig by the mighty Crazyhead back in the Fair City in September. Let’s get the old band back together again, lads. A road trip looks likely.