Chas 'n Dave

Wow did it rain last night.  Thunderstorms did their best to raise me from the dead but not a fecking chance.  The 58 miles or so into Folkestone had proper done me in.  With jellied eels for legs we wobbled off for dinner last night and with the same legs still attached this morning wobbled away on our bikes at about 10.30am.  A late departure from the guest house whilst we waited for the back edge of the weather front to pass so that we didn't have to suffer the worst of it / get drenched.  

I'm always amazed at how good the human body, well, my body is at recovering overnight.  Whatever the opposite of gremlins are for sure surged through my veins whilst I slept.  Packing morsels of energy into each and every muscle fibre and cell.  And whilst I might've wobbled to the toilet like a dalek wearing a new pair of greasy rollerskates when I awoke well, yeah, the legs really didn't feel too bad at all!

I can eat enormous quantities of food even on a bad (good?) day.  Unlike London Alan I don't get that 'I'm full' feeling and so will normally eat at least until I'm bored.  So unsuprisingly Audrey II has a lot of it to handle from the inbound chute onto her old Greek airport baggage conveyor belt whilst on her night shift every night.  A concoction of Mexican foodstuffs this time which included extra rice for me and half of London Alan's dinner after he went 'tilt'.

Now I don't know why nor how Audrey II did it but last night everything was perfectly aligned on the belt.  There wasn't a wayward luggage tag nor pushchair anywhere in the mix.  I'm sure you've all stood at the small window of a Mr Softee ice cream van on a summers day wide eyed watching and marvelling just how they get a perfect twist onto an ice cream cone with the hope you're gonna get a big 'un?

Well, Hairy Melon with her one good eye must've been watching Audrey II very carefully yesterday cos with a long 'hmmmm' she laid a curly beauty in the bog this morning as she did her best to fill the white porcelain bowl.  With the same consistency as chocolate ice cream it ran off of the end of what must have been an emergency extension of Audrey II's conveyor belt.  The Jet2 baggage handlers at Leeds Bradford Airport watch Audrey II training videos on PooTube which cover, amongst others, things like what the correct risk assessment and COSHH [1] procedure is for handling an extra hot Vindaloo and lager combo; and, special handling techniques for oversized loads.  The airport boys would've been proud.

But thank God that the body does recover.  I normally like to take the first 5 miles or so at a nice pace to allow Ma Boy and Our Lass, being teens, to wake up naturally, i.e., late, before they get full on hit in the face with a 20 stone paper round delivery of stupendous proportions.  Any earlier and both would normally have massive 'NO DAAAD' tantrums.  

No choice today.  A quick and smooth ride down into Folkestone Harbour before being hit full on in the face with a wet kipper of a climb out of the town.  Proper steep past houses hung on cliff edges so as to get that oh so desirable channel view.  Watching black rubber dots in the distance pirouette in the wake of the ships.  Well thats what I thought they were until I looked up and saw the same fecking floaters pirouetting about the sky.  Fecking old eyes..

Talk about pirouetting about the sky.  Well we could not see it because of the sea fret rising over the cliff edge but to hear the sound of a Merlin engine pass with that lusterous deep growl intermixed with an occasional crackle firstly overhead then swooping below the White Cliffs of Dover for sure brought an unexpected lump to my throat.  What a beautiful sound.  Dancing all around us in the white mists of time like a hidden angel.  

And what more is there to say.  Other than London Alan riding his new gravel bike is as different as chalk and cheese to riding his original tourer.  Legs feel strong still after 40 miles.  No problems setting off each day for another bunch.  No problems at all being sat on a saddle for several hours each day.  Ma Boy and Our Lass only occasionally jamming something sharp into their bedroom ceilings especially at the end of the day.  The naughty feckers.  Two and a half days to ride from Brighton to Margate.  Prep work has gone well methinks.  Only just over a week to go to the big off...  Here's our approximare route for the last few days..

We're all of a sudden in a rush to get to Margate Station for the 6pm train with London Alan greasing along the seafront.  Determination is writ hard across his brow as he for sure sets a million new segment records on Strava as he ploughs through the locals to get to the station on time.  

All of whom are called Chaz 'n Dave!  All together now!

You ever wondered why foreigners mock us Brits for having bad / crooked teeth?  And for talking like Janet Street-Porter?

For sure there's a massive shortage of dentists in this part of the world.  And an abundance of pork pie hats!

Chow fow neow.

[1] COSHH - Control Of Substances Hazardous to Health.  Back in my early days at BT, it went mad asking us normal folk to do assessments of everything 'dangerous' in the office.  Which included correct paper handling techniques to avoid paper cuts and how not to poke ones eyes out with an overly sharp pencil.  The solution for that was to lock away all of the pencil sharpeners and leave the key in the hands of a compitent well trained person wearing safety goggles.  Yeah, really.