squash down rain cape and shades?

We've been batting backwards and forwards a list of things to take for next weekend's bike thing. I didn't start it, but a longish list has been developed, aside from the paperwork involved to get the bike back to Clapham afterwards.

The banter made me check what's in the bike emergency kit and apart from too much pumpage (both manual and CO2), I think that part is about right. The little black bag has all the fiddly things like patches and spare chain links. The cash shown is representational. Owl and Pussycat like, I'll take some money wrapped up in an £5 note (other denominations are also available).

I'll put some SPF30 and Assos on before I start. I know, too much information.

Then it's about what to have for breakfast before several hours in the saddle. I'll be starting out rather early, so I've recreated a breakfast suggestion here: basically porridge or some sort of energy thing. A banana may come into the picture here somewhere as well.

Then a couple of those pocketable energy bars and gels and some dried fruit for en route. I'm tempted to get some Pineapple and Ginger Torq bars, but I don't have time. I'm not planning to carry a pasty like one of the Nemo Team, I'm thinking thin flat shapes as a preference.

I'm assuming that there will be obvious food stops, but I'll have some self sufficient stuff too, plus water and those electrolyte tabs. Pink Grapefruit is my preference. They take no room at all, although the squash down rain cape isn't quite as small as I'd like.

Oh, and phone, Garmin and sunglasses (obv.)

spin those cogs or sprockets or gears?

Friday was the first time on a bike for a couple of weeks. I managed to sneak a ride directly after work. A kind of 'take it easy' spin, although by today I can feel it in my legs. More in a good way, they are signalling that they are ready for some more miles.

Actually it's like a kind of curious vector which also runs from my legs, up through my body, all the way to my face. If it wasn't so difficult to pin down the feeling, I'd google it.

Instead, I'll sort out a couple of the charity bike tee-shirts ready for next weekend's 'Team Nemo' expedition from London to Brighton- we'll be somewhere in amongst the other 25,000+ riders.

The official start is in Clapham Common; I'll be cycling to the start from Chelsea and then onward through the various counties, across Ditching Beacon and onward to the coast.

Maybe I'd better get out for a couple more spins over this weekend as some sort of preparation.

Unusually, I'll humbly ask for any donations: simply text (UK) 70070 EDXX99 £2 or click through (any amount gratefully received, all for British Heart Foundation).

Chocolate Mermaid

Yep. Kim Boekbinder sings Tom Waits, live from her kitchen. Chocolate Jesus becomes Chocolate Mermaid.

faster than a stream of bits

I've spent today locked away in work, as indeed I was until around 10pm yesterday evening. Although the doors are not as complicated as the NASA JPL instructions above, it sometimes feels like it when I sometimes work in secure environments.

The above JPL warning featured today on brain pickings and it also inadvertently reminded me of another 'The Obald' flashback moment.

I used to work in a place not too far removed from the novel's imagined environment. It was so Civil Servanty that when we ordered any new furniture (filing cabinets or chairs), they would come in a randomly selected colour. We had mainly bright orange, green, shiny grey and beige, I seem to recollect.

We were doing things with special big room computers in times when today's high bandwidth communications were still considered as 'impossible' by various technicians.

I had a secret squirrel task that involved getting a load of data from Pasadena JPL and it had to be sent across by plane on a tape, because it was 'far too much' to be transmitted by any other means. We did have direct communication links with the USA, but only with low-speed lines really only useful for sending short messages around.

So the tape duly arrived, but was corrupted because of something that happened in transit. I sent for another one, creating what was probably a two week response time to my original data request.

The Obald features a computer doing mysterious stuff, ably backed up by similarly manual processes.

Little did we all know just how quickly the pace would pick up.

flying under the radar

I took my Kindle on vacation instead of a pile of books. I still prefer the inexpensive Kindle for beaches and suchlike, rather than fussing around with a somewhat heavier and less legible in sunshine iPad.

Amongst the reading material was blogger R.F. McMinn's novel, 'The Obald'.

I enjoyed it. I don't want to give too much away, but there was one of those jolly good plot twists part way through.

The early scenes build up a 1980's London, with a kind of authenticity that suggests it was being written at that time. A few times between reading, I found my mind wandering off to past times and the kind of differences, for example, in the workplace.

I've also recently re-watched 'Life on Mars', which is set in the late 70's, and there's a similar attention to the detail of the time in The Obald. Kind of pubs in the workplace, flexi-time which was like 12 free extra days holiday per year and colourful points about working in the Civil Service of the time. 'No point in using up a sick day when ill' springs to mind.

Add in a few tunnels, some physics mysteries and a bit of love interest, and there's a good basis for the story. As a regular reader of the aforementioned blog, there were also a few references to things that get written about in FAQ too. Baking bread, Pro-tools plug-ins and living in France, illustrate some of the entertaining diversity.

So, yes, I enjoyed it, and only afterwards did I read the addendum that explained some of its background.

delayed

After last week travelling around on mainly boats, it's back to my more regular form of London travel this week. Like many others, I'm suited and back on trains and tubes.

I'll admit the four hour time zone jump affected me the first day, but I'm back into the groove now.

This was before the train came up with a 'delayed' message.

a sort of pigeon cam

Well, it's back to the City again, suitably refreshed after a few days away.

I even received a comment about the white bit where I'd been wearing my watch in the sunshine. Yes, I'm still wearing the watch, so someone must have been fairly observant to notice the strange white band on my wrist.

By this Tuesday evening I'm starting to feel rather tired, but I suppose that's an effect of skipping a night on the way back. But at least I'm up to date with some recent movies.

statutory feet in the water picture

Strange to think I can be leaving this Bermudan land of sunshine and sea in middle evening, yet be back in London in time for the Monday morning conference calls.

Probably best to keep it a secret.

the right stuff

It's quite difficult to send posts from this land of the palm tree, coconut and stripy fish.

There is some wifi signal, but it fades in and out.

I suppose that is really a good thing, because its helping me concentrate on the other aspects of being here.

by the light of a magical moon

Tonight it's time for dinner on the beach.

Best to add in a pleasant sunset.

And maybe then watch the waves by the light of the moon.

moving further west

Today we had to say goodbye to the three hundred year old house we've been staying in and had to 'up sticks' further west across the island. We've been in a location with wonderful views both across the island and towards the Atlantic, so wondered what we'd find at the new spot.

Nothing to worry about.

We're now in a little cottage which has its own secret bay around the back and a marina at the front. Gorgeous views all around and only a three minute walk to the beach.

I can handle that for a few more days.

knowing pink means towards centre and blue means away

Travelling around the island is never dull. There's no hire cars for foreigners and most people use the diverse public transport options.

It's quite varied, from the little boat that can pick us up at the end of the golf course, to the super speedy catamaran that crosses from one side of the island to the other in about 20 minutes.

We've used all permutations, as well as the frequent buses, with their pink pole and blue pole bus stops (pink is towards the centre and blue is away).

Catch one mid-afternoon and see it progressively fill with lively school children in neat uniforms from the various schools, heading back to Hamilton, the capital.

Or pause in the same city, to watch the intriguingly futuristic police go by.