Still feeling knackered...
But now I’ve had time to reflect on our trip to Dartmoor.
The whole thing was brilliant – but there was definitely a distinct ‘low’ point and one ‘high’ point.
The ‘low’ was in Torquay. For some reason known only to them-selves, the Police had closed the main road through town and the place was in grid-lock. Our run leader knew the town and we took a diversion up narrow, twisting side roads, slowly weaving our way past virtually static traffic.
It was a torturous route and at one point I was edging my way past a car when he moved across to block my way.
“You’re not coming through here” he declared through his open window.
“But why not? I’m a bike – that’s what bikes do. I’m not pushing in and I’ll be gone and out your way.” I reasoned.
“That’s nothing to do with me” was his reply, tinged with a distinct lack of logic, and with that he moved forward and closed my gap even more. This ridiculous manoeuvre meant he had gone past me and enabled me to go behind him and use the massive gap he had now created on his other side.
Twat.
My ‘high’ may seem strange to most, and not just because it’s completely un-bike related. We had stopped for our cream teas at a quaint little tearoom in Widecomb-in-the-Moor. Having refuelled the body, it was time to visit the loos. And as I write this, I realise how weird this sounds, but my delight was simply because I was met by a communal toilet.
Okay, not what you’re thinking. To me, this is a wonderful kick-in-the-teeth to the great British obsession with prudery. I’ve never see it before in this country. Normally, we’re herded as far apart from each other as possible. I honestly wouldn’t have thought it was legal in this Nanny State we live in.
And to find it in a little tearoom in the middle of Dartmoor...
Brilliant!
1 comment:
Great work.
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