Twice per day and after all meals

I'm laid prone in 'the chair' with a huge bright light shining into my face.  The pretty ginger haired dental hygenist was hard at work deep inside Audfrey II's chute trying without much success to remove the caked on remains of the inbound stuff.   You know, like looking at an old hard set chocolate and biscuit Kit Kat production line conveyor belt that's not been cleaned nor serviced for 10 years.  With a garlic and cheese breath.  Bork!  Proper manky...

I look up at the upside down hygenist with my head nestled lightly in her buxom...

'Well Mr Tyssen, you're teeth are fine and strong' she says as she scrapes away at the 10 year old plaque.  I try to speak.

'Ga ga gah gu eg ga ga ga gaahh', says I..

What's that Mr Tyssen, you've always fantasised about having sex with a golden haired hygenist in an articulating chair have you?'

 'Gah'

'Well funny you should mention that Mr Tyssen, but I've always fantasised about having sex in my chair with a man with good strong teeth...'

'Eggn a fah bah bokh?'

'Oh yes Mr Tyssen, it would not matter to me if he was fat and bald.  As long has he had really nice strong teeth...  Right yer all done Mr Tyssen, swill yer mouth out and that'll be four hundred pounds please...'

GAH!  I should have gone to Bradford. 

And that is just the way of life.  I'm a bit of a fraidy puss really wrapped tight in what must be the equivalent of a Transformers and Shrek shaped body.  With skinny legs apparently.  Scary and not nice but there is a soft centre somewhere deep inside.  Which I never expose.

So chance meetings with the opposite sex often fritter away to nowt.  Even with dental hygenists.  With whom sex would for sure happen just before bed and on waking; and, after every meal.  So that's twenty times per day innit.  

Anyway, finally, after 6 month of planning we're off.  YAY!!!  The JOGLE thing has started.  

To start with a 6 hour train journey to Inverness.  Direct.  A long day in a different kind of saddle today.  On them there new LNER Hitachi Transformer trains which have jack all in the way of rubbish bins.  And the ones that they have are made for the Japanese.  I.e. tiny.  

Talk about stuffing it in.  No not sex with the hygenist.  No, I generate so much snacking detritus of bags, wrappers, waste paper, cups and crisp packets that a visit by York city council's bin men at my seat is needed at least twice on a 6 hour journey.  

And OH don't get me started about the fecking letterbox lockable filing cabinets into which one needs to fold ones bike to get it on the train.  There's me stuffing Myfanwy all unceremonious like atop the cabinet trying to get her nickers off whilst pushing on her gusset - which had to be turned 90 degrees clockwise - into the tight masochistic hangers just before turning the lights out and closing the doors.

Anyway for a few days before, there I was building a pile of things on the extension floor.  Stuff that was most likely to go with me for the long journey down.  Trying to travel as light as possible.  So that's just 2 changes of cycle clothing, 2 changes of apres cycling clothing, waterproofs and fleeces in case its cold and wet.  And one pair of lightweight shoes.  Cos the NC500 thing taught me that any attempt to skate on a polished west coast of Scotland restauraunt floor in wet socks will result in a humongous jack knife accident having left my boots along with all the other appareil to drip dry in the gents bogs.  Well we are starting at the top of Scotland aren't we?  

There, that should keep the bike lite.  But oh no.  I then add in to the mix a toolkit, electric pump and spares.  Plus all of the electroncis for the video camera, phone, lights, remotes, chargers, cables etc.. Well for sure a small PooTube studio has landed on the bike too.  There.  Packed.  

Two minutes later I have the thought, 'did I pack my underwear?'.  Which should be in the green bag at ... er I forget.  So the whole bloody thing is unpacked.  And yes, I did.  So all is packed away again.  I wander towards the living room and think, 'what about the charger for the laptop, Wayne?'  So fecking hell, it all comes off the bike and yes, it is there at the bottom of the pannier.  And so the game continues for the rest of the morning.  Oh dear I fear for the future.  Cos of my fecking almost 60 year old brain!

I lift the panniers and place them on the bike rack.  The back end settles a couple of inches which is some going for a bike that has a steel frame and no suspension.  Myfanwy's got her face in the grass chewing the cud.  I see her eyes suddenly widen and develop an angry frown as the panniers hit her derriere.  Oh dear, and I've not gotten on her yet.

I say goodbye to the neighbours.  I ask John if he will look after the seedlings in the greenhouse.

'Of couse I will', says John.

'Great!  

'Where are you going?' says John.  

'To Inverness today and then to John O Groats later for the big ride down.  Dont forget will ya.'  

'Forget what?' says John..

'To look after the seedlings...'

'Of course I will'

'Great!'

'Where are you going?'...

Aw gawd.  I see in John's face a future living with dementia that was also the life of my uncle Con and for sure going by the number of times I've rechecked my panniers, a not too far off future life for me too.  I make a mental note to call his wife Janet every couple of days as a polite reminder...

Anyway we're cycling towards the station.  York city centre can be busy with bike hating unfriendly bus drivers everywhere.  'Don't make me angry, you wont like it if I am angry'.  Said the HULK - and London Alan yesterday when I again let out a short 'be careful' squeak as I caught a glimpse of him drifting into a bus filter lane as we set off from the lights.  Oh dear.  I touched a nerve again.  Sorry London Alan.  Please don't bite.  Just worried of York speaking not wanting you to end up under an unfriendly bike hating York number 11 bus. 

So I've promised to keep my mouth zipped shut and leave London Alan alone with all of my watchits and be carefuls.   Sorry.

Well I will but only for speech.  Not for the inbound stuff.  I will continue to eat, and eat lots for the next 3 weeks as I cycle my way down to Lands End.  You see I need the calories...

And an excuse to go back to see the dental hygenist again... :-O  -:

Gaow goh Gow..