noooooooo!!!

A colleague sends me the following link, I hope it works off-campus (or, maybe I don't)...

"How to kill and cook a turtle"

Shotley - Freston Xroad - Stutton - Cattawade - Flatford - Brantham - Sutton - Freston Xroads - Shotley

Bike: Condor
Distance: 30.72 miles
Time: 1 hour 41 minutes 04 seconds
Average speed: 18.2 mph
Maximum speed: 34.0 mph
Odometer (at end): 2225.6 miles

Shockingly, this was only my 3rd ride in October, and I now need to get 8 miles between now and the end of the month to ensure I go into 'triple figures' for the month.

I'm now 800 miles behind where I should be if I want to achieve my start-of-year target, but I think that target was now overoptimistic, given I don't do so much commuting now that I don't live in London (I'm on about 5600 miles, I wanted to be on 7500 by the end of the year, I did over 6800 last year).

However, I only need 400 miles between now and the end of the year to get above 6000 miles for the year, and anything above that is respectable (i.e. it averages over 500 miles per month, and well over 100 miles per week), especially given the aforementioned lack of commuting... plus, it's not just about statistics! I think I've achieved more than in previous years, even though I've had a few disappointments too.

Anyway, this was a nice ride: smoky autumn air mixed with cold autumn air - both of which filled my lungs with odd sensations and I've been coughing since I got home. Kept the bike mostly in the big chainring, and used the middle gears on the back so was keeping my legs exercised at a fairly low cadence. I just don't have much zip right now: have decided I'll keep myself ticking over til my eye op, have some recovery time off the bike, and then start preparing for next year... it's knackering just thinking about it.

I've not been too into my cycling of late, but I did spend the weekend at Lidia and John's, so they managed to get me thinking about it again... in particular, I was inspired by John's photo album of our Paris-Roubaix adventure, and by the 1976 film 'A Sunday in Hell' which John has acquired on DVD. [*]

[*] The blurb on the back: "Over 90 minutes of spine-tingling suspense that leave the viewer limp from vicarious excitement." I will reserve comment... though it may be referring to this kind of thing?

happy birthday Lidias!

I have been feeling an uncharacteristic amount of warmth and happiness recently, a feeling which was only increased by a trip down to London to see Lidia and John, and to celebrate the former's birthday. Happy birthday Lidia! More on the weekend in a later post.

On returning to Shotley this evening, I discovered one of the cows had given birth to twins, so we're calling one Lidia (the brown one) and letting Lidia pick the name for the grey one. So happy birthday to this Lidia too.

happiness is a warm cup

I bet the international group of Large Hadron Collider scientists are kicking themselves at missing the true cutting edge of research. Experiments have apparently shown that:

(1) If you want someone to warm to you, give them a hot drink

Yet whenever I make people one of my patented 'liquid defibrillator' espresso concoctions, they sometimes never speak to me again. Or survive.

(2) People are more likely to judge strangers as welcoming and trustworthy when they are holding a hot cup of coffee

Clearly they have never seen me holding a cup of coffee, especially if it is the first one of the day, or my 3pm pick-me-up. I clutch my precious caffeine fix close to my chest, with wild, paranoid eyes, baring my teeth and hissing if anyone comes close. This kind of edginess.

In other news, I was in Ipswich today, negotiating the Kafka-esque nightmare of the local council buildings: apparently, to start a job which involves 5.5 hours of work per fortnight, I need to complete a mountain of paperwork about every conceivable aspect of my life to date. Ipswich was 'entertaining' as ever, though the town is noticeably on edge owing to new scandal:

under pressure

My 'other family', the Panicos (not to be confused with the pánico económico), have been in touch from Toulouse via Lidia:

"by the way, my mom said she'd like if you came to visit them in france next time John and I go there (maybe next summer) but she does have a condition: you have to have handed in your PhD."

Though I am obviously filled with gratitude, that woman asks for too much. My mum, however, nodded her head in wholehearted approval (of me finishing my thesis, not of going off on another jaunt to France). Indeed, last time I was in France with the collective Panicos, I ended up covered in mud, with swollen hands, grazes on my elbows, a hole in one hip and road rash on the other, not to mention a broken bike. Good times!

It is Lidia's birthday this weekend: apparently a long walk is planned - a big coat is advised, given my luck a suit of armour may be a better choice.

the route of all evil?

The 2009 Tour de France route has been announced. The good thing is that it has raised questions about whether Lance will come back and potentially sully his reputation (as far as professional cyclists are able to be further sullied). The other good thing is that Ventoux on the penultimate day should be immense. There's also a 40km individual time trial, which is a nice sensible distance, and will presumably meet with approval from the British time trialling community.

Route map here.

Shotley - Freston - Holbrook - Stutton - Tattingstone - Holbrook - Harkstead - Erwarton - Shotley

Bike: Condor
Distance: 21.33 miles
Time: 1 hour 18 minutes 17 seconds
Average speed: 16.3 mph
Maximum speed: 32.5 mph
Odometer (at end): 2194.9 miles



Went for a lazy ride around the peninsula on a lovely sunny autumn afternoon. Really good fun, average speed was slashed dramatically because I kept stopping to look at things.

Shotley - Felixstowe - Shotley

Bike: Condor
Distance: 40.98 miles
Time: 2 hour 19 minutes 59 seconds
Average speed: 17.5 mph
Maximum speed: 29.0 mph
Odometer (at end): 2173.5 miles

"[...] a staple of the superhero mythology is, there’s the superhero and there’s the alter ego. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker. When that character wakes up in the morning, he’s Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man. And it is in that characteristic Superman stands alone.

Superman didn’t become Superman. Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he’s Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red “S” - that’s the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him. Those are his clothes. What Kent wears - the glasses, the business suit - that’s the costume. That’s the costume Superman wears to blend in with us.

Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent? He’s weak… He’s unsure of himself… He’s a coward."
- Bill, Kill Bill: Vol. 2

I never thought I'd find myself quoting Quentin Tarantino films to a three year old.

I'd woken up with about 10 minutes of the morning to spare, and a desire to do no work. It was sunny out and, realising I hadn't seen my cousin and her son for ages, I decided to cycle over to Felixstowe for some coffee, biscuits and a chat, as well as a variety of superhero costumes...



This was my first bike ride for 18 days, and I didn't push very hard. In fact, was just happy to be out in the fresh air, turning my legs, rather than cooped up in my study, hurting my brain.

Also, news from Emily: she has arrived.

and finally...

My tortoise would not last five minutes in the wild... she's currently asleep with her limbs and head poking out of her shell. However, this does look very sweet and, thus, she's helped me to end the day on a better note.

A bit of an epic day, all told: the reason I was in London was to give my presentation - I thought I fluffed it, but apparently it was good and I fielded 40 minutes worth of questions and was bought several beers afterwards (dangerously, I seem to be drinking Hoegaarden again). Lots of travelling, lots of talking, lots of thinking... an intense end to an intense couple of weeks.

married with shelldren

Have been plugging my iPod into the Dolby Surround system my sister's boyfriend gave me before he headed off - in doing so, have discovered my tortoise really likes the first two Oasis albums and Counting Crows. In fact, we observed her smiling for the first time yesterday.

(my mum also asked me to put on 'Leaving New York' which is her favourite R.E.M. song - she assumes, given the lyric 'it's easier to leave than to be left behind', that Michael Stipe has never been sent off to a warzone)

Meanwhile, Sally is in a near-constant state of happiness since the whippet departed:



At 10:00 this morning, my sister flew off, at exactly the same moment a robin flew in through my window and flapped around my room for a bit. Given my grandad used to feed robins out of the palm of his hand (and, consequently, my mother is obsessed with them), I am taking this as a good omen. Otherwise, have felt really gloomy since Em & Matt departed yesterday - I don't really 'miss' people very often, but in this case I do feel sad (and worried) for them.

On Wednesday I am supposed to be presenting on the chapter I finished last Friday: as yet, I have only sketched out a structure and an opening slide incorporating Bob Dylan and Dwight Eisenhower...

the only baggage you can bring is all that you can't leave behind

Sad morning in our house: my sister and her boyfriend have gone, and we won't see them together again for ages. The former will be flying out to a dangerous war zone for six months tomorrow, while the latter will be flying out to another dangerous war zone for eight months in the next couple of weeks.

Not only the worry that having loved ones in dangerous places entails, but also sadness that they won't see each other for most of the next year. They're a good couple, and he's become very much at home here in Shotley. Hopefully the time will go quickly and without incident.

cooked up a story and threw us into the coffee grinder

As a reward for whippet sitting, I not only received a free ticket to Leonard Cohen earlier in the year, but today a big parcel arrived: an electric coffee grinder and a pile of beans (and another espresso cup) from the Algerian Coffee Shop in Soho.

As well as two bottles of wine from New Zealand, I'd say that's pretty good going, given my parents and sister spent most of the time looking after Wilbur.

The coffee grinder will get a lot of use tonight - have to hand in a chapter tomorrow, and it's in a pretty flimsy state right now...

EDIT: 1am! It's amazing how, as a deadline nears, work of decreasing quality becomes increasingly acceptable.

Anyway, I have a couple of bad sentences to iron out, a conclusion to write, a final introductory sentence to polish and then the sodding footnotes. A readthrough, and then to circulate it. I reckon I would be best getting some sleep now, and doing as much of this as possible when I wake up ... but first, just to plan the bloody conclusion while my brain is still vaguely 'on topic'.

eyes to the right

Duh-duh-duh-duh.

After several years, I have finally got an appointment - next month - to have my squinty eye fixed. Although there are various things wrong with me, my eye is my least favourite because it means I can't look people in the face when I'm being mean to them. Not for much longer though!

In other news: was meant to go to London at the weekend for a couple of bike races, but fatigue/bad weather/workload forced me to stay at home. I have one more '25' scheduled, but that is being threatened by greater desire to go out and have fun the evening before... yep, just like last year, I simply don't feel like going cycling this October.

In other news #2: The whippet left on Monday after just over 2 weeks of chaos. My sister misses him. Speaking of my sister, this time next week she'll be in Afghanistan. These are tumultuous times.