Known locally as ‘The Longest Day’ mainly because my mileage calculation came upon my poor calculator skills and 50 miles became 75. However we were treated to the A49 and Cheshire, what astounding trouble and traffic -free roads. Knutsford just over the hill, to where we return in a fortnight.
Last night we bade a sad farewell to Donald Workman. The memory of him propelling his six foot plus frame alongside my penny shouting out directions only to hand me a beautifully inscripted sheet with instructions thereon is a lasting image indeed. Donald was replaced by an altogether different regime: one Paul Benney who masterminds the rest of the trip. Paul, not happy with our frugal consort, came with staff: two cooks, a pastry chef, an excellent cocktail waitress, drivers and coolies, plus a mysterious witch doctor ‘Renata’ Danobetia who set about the squad with herbal potions, massage and secret chants. We were sorry to see her go too. Dinner and Board was in the beautiful Much Wenlock, hosted by the deWet’s and their beautiful accomplice: the girl ‘Jane’ so the 70 miles was about the right distance for swapping yarns.
And now it’s time to talk of Tom. He rides a mere Pedersen, yet has won more stages than any other rider in the Peleton (4). He is fast but the colours on his jersey’s aren’t -he holds the green, polka dot, yellow and pink jerseys, so far: laundry takes an age.
“I’ll take the 52 I think” came my order barked at Benney and, with a series of claps from his hands his assistants unloaded the gleaming 52″ wheeled Penny, whilst relieving me of my tired 50 incher. I was lowered into the saddle and we bashed through the miles without the need of E.P.O’s or clinical aids, save the odd muscular G and T.
Tom tested positive for meths and so won the day. His satellite navigation system is known as Thomas-Thomas to save confusion.
Thanks to you all for your texts, too numerous to answer, despite our over-staffing, and tomorrow is bandit country….
