So, there I am, sitting in the office melting and finding it difficult to breath [COPD sucks]. I played the sensible option (I thought) and called it a day and headed off early to get an early train.
Arriving at Paddington in good time, I checked the platform app to see that the 16:36 was ready on Platform 3. I got on, having confirmed the stickers in the window that it was actually going to Exeter, via Hungerford, and settled down.
After 10 minutes, everybody gets off. Apparently they’ve changed their mind and my train is now on Platform 4. So now, I have to scrabble my way round, along with the world and his wife to the Correct Train’ – the train on 3 is now going to Swansea.
Again, I settle down and get my breath back having managed to find a seat.
Guess what? This naffing train has broken but they’re trying to fix it.
Guess what? No such luck. They can’t fix it so we now all have to get off and dash to Platform effing 8.
Don’t worry #fgw, I made it. I even managed to get a seat: unlike so many extra passengers who have been shoehorned on the train. ( as the train was still at the station ).
How do I feel? Totally drained and knackered. I’d have been better of staying work and coping with rush hour. #fgw, you really are priceless. And to think, I pay you over £5000 per year for this privilege. Monopolies (that’s what the rail system is) don’t work.
Archive for July, 2013
Doo Daa’s in a Brewery (NOT)
Posted: July 18, 2013 in COPD, Rant, TravelTags: fgw, Paddington, platform 3, Platform 4, Platform 8, rail service
Day 3 – Kidnapped By The Frenchies
Posted: July 16, 2013 in charity, COPD, Cycling, Disaster Recovery, TravelTags: Angers, BBQ, Chinon, Kidnapped, Ligueil, Loire Valley, Picnic, Region 37
Angers was the town in which Matt was to join us. He had left dear old blighty a couple of days earlier as he had decided a 550 mile ride wasn’t taxing enough and opted to head for the Alps to take part in the ‘Etape de Tour’ before taking the train via Geneva and Paris to Angers to reach as us at 22:30, as planned. I wonder if such plans had worked out in the UK and our fantastic rail network. Somehow, I think pushing sand up a drainpipe would be more fruitful.
We had arranged to meet Christian Pinneau along with other cyclists from Ligueil at 12:30 so that we could all ride in ‘en masse’ to a celebratory reception arranged by the twinning committee and others from our twin town. For this reason, we knew we should leave Angers early not only to be sure we weren’t late but also to minimise our exposure to the heat.
As luck would have it, the first half of the route was to take is along the Loire Valley [a route I believe everybody should cycle], past some magnificent chateau’s and some especially nice Caves (wine cellars, where some luverly wines were traded: unfortunately, cycle shirts aren’t designed to carry bottles of wine so we had to pass on so many opportunities. Such a great shame, as just before Saumur, we passed the Ackerman Wine Cellar: if you get the chance, visit it. It is fab.
As we (by now, it was just Charles [65] and I [nearly 60
]) made our way east, the creaking in Charles’ Colnago was getting louder and he was down to only four useable gears. A quick inspection revealed that the gear cables had shredded and subsequently shredded. We needed a bike shop, and we found a bike shop with a very, very pretty French Lady who could speak hardly any English. Somehow, us two old deluded Codgers had to charm the nice little French Lady into understanding our needs(!). Eventually after much pointing and gesticulating, she got out her tape measure (!) to measure how much cable we needed and snip, snip, we were done. Strictly speaking, we also needed some nipples to go over the end of the cables but we decided to give that one a miss: tempting though it may have been ![]()
After a quick temporary fix and our spares safely in our back pockets, we set off again on to Saumur [missing Ackerman’s] for a quick coffee / beer stop. Using a combination of Garmin Sat Nav and iPhone Maps (which were rubbish) we eventually all met up at a cafe / bar by the river less than 100 yards from a bike shop. As my mechanical skills had been enough to give Charles his gears back though we decided to resist going there to get it fixed properly and just rest up and have a drink before setting off to meet the Ligueil Cycling contingent at the designated picnic stop at Monsoreau just east of Chinon. My estimation was that the average age of the 10 Ligueil cyclists was 50, at least. But, they were often highly proficient cyclists as they led us to the picnic zone at 20+ miles an hour. But wow, it was great with 16 cyclists tearing alongside the Loire with two escort cars and our support van, we must have been (and certainly felt) a magnificent site.
Having made our acquaintance’s and sated our hunger, and thirst, the time came for the last 42 mile ride to Ligueil.
The pace was high, the route was hilly, the wind was unfavourable and there was 42 miles of it. As the French Cyclists surrounding the English cyclists there was this feeling that the English were being tested: tested to the limits so it was good to note the two or three of the Frenchies dropped out the back but nevertheless, the English were surrounded: kidnapped maybe?
Mile after mile, the French surrounded and herded the English, neither sided really understanding each other but united by a common bond of our love for cycling, we all eventually reached the outskirts of Ligueil where we all entered the town, three abreast with the French flanking the English (still making sure we didn’t escape) until we reach Centre Ville and then the Community Hall for a big welcome to be followed by interviews and photographs for the local media.
After showering in the local campsite communal showers and throwing all our grimy cycle gear into the communal washing machines, we were each taken away by local families who had offered to put us up for the night [the hospitality in Ligueil was truly amazing]. Once settled in our adopted homes, we all taken back to the Community Hall for what can only be described as a FEAST. Salads of all types, wine, with a barbeque that seemed to be going all night, wine, followed by typical French deserts, wine, and cheese and wine. Everybody had a great evening and nobody had cottoned on to the fact that tomorrow was going to be the longest day. Anyway, wined and dined, welcome and thank-you speeches made, everybody went back to their hosts homes for a good solid nights sleep.
Oh, do you remember Charles’s bike, well the French fixed half the gears before we went to bed, and they finished the rest by 07:30 when we were regrouping ready for the departure (with heavy hearts and heavy heads) and onto Le Mans.
Go Podge, Go
Cycling For a Better Future
Day 2 – 105 = Melting Tar & Melting Rider
Posted: July 9, 2013 in charity, COPD, Cycling, training, TravelTags: Attrition, Cycling, France, Heat
The ferry dropped us in St Malo at 07:15 (08:15 French time) having released all our bikes from the back of the van. Our first task was to locate the train station as we needed to. Get the 09:30 to Rennes as we had lost one day due to the Saturday ferry being full.
We now know that the Ferry’s were so full because there were loads of poxy cyclists coming over to see the Tour in the area.
Having found the station, found the train, hooked up the bikes in their special hooks on the trains, we all settled down for a 50 minute snooze before the cycling began.
Heading out of Rennes ( having agreed to meet the support crew, Graeme and Norman in Chateaubriante) we quickly split into two groups with one going off route while the other pair, the two old Codgers, staying on route. How smug were we.
I Was Not Ready For This
Posted: July 8, 2013 in charity, COPD, Cycling, TravelTags: charity cycle challenge, COPD, Hungerford, Ligueil, Podge, Travel
So, the ride down from Hungerford went pretty well having set off only a few minutes after 12:00, my first obstacle was Combe Gibett, when once again my bike realised the term Push Bike. But, after that, it was so much the better as so much of the next fez miles were either down hill or flat.
Being an uneventful, albeit slow ride, we opted to stop at Cheriton for a drink and lunch, but as always, they had stopped doing food so we had a quick drink and set forth for the Ferry Port. This ti,e, to cut out as many busy roads as possible we opted for the back roads over Ports Down Hill via Pigeon House Lane: by now, i was too hot and bothered and caved in a little bit too quickly and climbed off to push ny bike up the hill. On reflection, it wasn’t that steep and I could probably have nade it, but hey ho, fro, here on in, it was all down hill, pqst the hospital, past the scene of the cat incident, and round the back roads to the Ferry Port.
This when the truth hit us, we had been pooked on as 7 passengers with 6 bicycles all in one camper van. Well, we did it, we placed three bikes on the outside rack then zip tied the others to then so that we had all 6 bikes hanginf oof the back. In all, these 6 bikes were probably worth in excess of 10 grand, but what the heck: We had to get on. We had a few strange looks but we got away with it 🙂
That’s about all I can say about Day 1. So what was I not ready for? The next dqy’s temperature hitting 105° F. More in next Updqte.
Go Podge, Go
