Timing. Nostalgia. Cycling matters.

Last week when I went to the Wednesday market in Uppermill there seemed to be long queues everywhere. Consequently it took me longer than expected. Today I breezed through everywhere and realised when I got to the Oliviccio delicatessen, where I buy olives and sundried tomatoes and whatever else takes my fancy on the day, it was only twenty to ten and they don’t open until ten. So I decided to push my bike around the park and take a look at the river. The leaf blowers were busy in the park. What do they do with them? I wonder. Presumably they take them away somewhere as otherwise they would just get blown back once the leaf blower men had left.

The stepping stones were, amazingly, not under water although branches seemed to have blown down into the water. I posted a picture on Facebook, provoking my Spanish sister into getting nostalgic about her last visit here. Which is surprising as she accused me aat the time of “making her” walk across the stepping stones. Where is her sense of adventure? No, what she was nostalgic about was the Cornish pasties we had eaten in the park on that visit. Cornish pasties from the bakery in Uppermill, which some people would claim should bot be called Cornish at all as they are made in Greater Manchester and have never been to Cornwall in their short lives. But they are very tasty!

Incidentally, I bought Lancashire “Brie” cheese in the delicatessen. We had a little chat, the shopkeeper and I, about the nomenclature. She told me a Frenchman, a customer, had told her recently, “This is no Brie” - you have to imagine a French accent. But apparently the name Brie, the cheese, is not protected. Unlike Champagne. No other fizzy wine can be called champagne but any cheesemaker can make a soft cheese of the correct kind and call in Brie. Hey! Ho!

By the time I got back to the delicatessen, still with just under ten minutes to wait, there was a gentleman standing outside the still closed door, with a list in his hand. He told me he had driven for 45 minutes to find Oliviccio. Oh, that list! The deli eventually opened, the gentleman went in and almost a quarter of an hour later I had my turn. If I had not gone walkabout I would have been first in the queue! And I arrived later than imtended once again. So it goes!

So I’ve been out and about on my bike. Now I read that Nigel Farage has been putting in his two penn’orth about cyclists. I am loath to mention that name as I firmly believe that he has received far too much air time ever since he first popped up. Maybe if he had not been invited to speak on so many chat shows he might not have become so well known and maybe, just maybe, we might still be in the EU!

Anyway, it seems he is opposed to cycle lanes. He thinks that the “vast majority” of road cyclists frequenting the Kent lanes where he lives are also most likely remainers! Bizarre! A good reason to keep,on cycling though. Other right wing populists apparently liken cyclists to “a strange swarm of insects”. How odd! There was even a tweet debate that started with the argument: “Country walks can be ruined by arrogant cyclists expecting walkers to know they are coming up behind at 40mph.”

Here’s a bit of scientific fact: “even in a brief time trial, professional cyclists competing in the Tour de France do well to manage 30mph. This is yet another complaint about cyclists – they’re always too fast, except when they’re too slow and holding up motor traffic. Schrödinger’s cyclist.”

But I do agree that some cyclists get us a bad name by not using that wonderful thing, the bicycle bell, when they ride along bridle paths. 

My bike, by the way, has an excellent bell!

Life goes on. Stay safe, everyone!