There is no doubt about it, I am so lucky to have my wonderful relationship with Suzy.
She places few demands.
She comes and goes, admittedly sometimes she’s gone a long time, but that keeps us both keen.
She has money, though I have no idea where from, she intimates her husband looks after her even though they haven’t been together for a few years now.
And she’s generous.
All I do in return is look after Freya, try to be there for them both when they need me, and generally just be a good friend.
We didn’t ride as much as we’d planned. That was my fault. I have hardly ever ridden up a real hill having bee cycling in and around Manchester over the past few years, but hardly anywhere else. And even though I’d borrowed one of her road bikes, I just couldn’t cope.
These hills are huge, they’d wear you out walking up them, and they twist and turn, and then you have to remember the cars too. What was even more surprising is how hard they are to ride down – you need nerves of steel to just let go and lean into the bends, taking the whole road when there’s nothing coming.
I now really want to do more hill riding, but I was useless at the weekend. After the morning Suzy suggested that we call it a day and I was delighted to say yes. We locked the bikes up at the hotel and walked along the river instead, and we both jumped in for a warm swim which was truly wonderful and must have given the teenage lads a thrill – there were a few of them out with their parents and they couldn’t believe there luck as two (I’d like to think, nubile and attractive) girls slipped their bras out under their tee shirts and jumper in the river in their pants.
Wonderful wonderful. Suzy I thank you again.Read More
I thought that I was a pub hotel that we were going to be staying in but this turns out to be a poshly named restaurant with rooms.
Our room is at the front and has that great view that I put on the post last evening.
Dinner was an odd affair that felt like it was trying to be up market but not quite making it. The food was good, but not special, yet it was arranged on the plates as if it was in some super smart place. The trouble was things has been under the heat lamps for a bit too long and so the salad leaves had dried and even gone a bit crispy.
There were sweet girls serving us, but unfortunately they hadn’t been trained and so they were just their natural selves. That had a degree of charm, but when they knew the words for what they were serving, but not what those words meant, the effect was spoiled somewhat. Suzy politely explained what a langoustine is to one of the girls and the lovely little pop said “Ooh, I don’t think I’d like eating that!”
The innocence was charming, but not what you’d expect.
We were by far the youngest there, but I’m pleased to say we weren’t the only girl couple. It was rather hushed in the restaurant, but who cares, the view was completely wonderful, calming rather than dramatic.
After dinner last night we went down the road to the pub, the Red Lion, for a couple of halts and to sit out in what would have been a perfect evening were it not for the flying bitey bastards that were a bit annoying.
This is the bridge we sat looking at – it was nearly 10 o’clock at this point, and I was thinking what a lucky girl I am. I wonder if I’ll still be saying that when I have tackled a few of the hills – if I never write another post you’ll know I died here! Breakfast time now though.Read More
This is about cycling, but it’s also about insurance, a subject that until now I haven’t thought a lot about.
I haven’t seen Suzy in a while as she has been away working but she promised ages ago that we’d go up into Yorkshire to ride some of the route of Le Tour, and sure enough this week she honoured the promise.
It was both wonderful and oh so hard!
Anyway the business side of the post came because of two insurance issues we tackled before we were able to set off.
Suzy arranged to borrow a friend’s car to take us up to just north of Skipton to a pub called The Devonshire Fell. It was a really nice big BMW luxury Landrover type thing and we only had to take the front wheels off our bikes to get them in. But we had to buy a short term insurance policy for it and I was surprised when Suzy printed and read all the terms and conditions.
She insisted to me that it was vital, and that she’d just upgraded her home contents insurance to take account of her new bike which will have cost her a heck of a lot (like more than two grand). Suzy explained that not having the right insurance is almost as bad as having none. If something happens and you need to make a claim you will have enough to worry about anyway, you won’t want to be worrying if the insurer is going to pay out or not.
I had a look online when I got to the hotel just now and found a good piece on the Express site that explains clearly how an insurer would be within their right not to pay up when you have been stupid yourself. It talks about things like leaving the sat nat on the car seat, or, like Suzy, when you buy something new and expensive, you forget to let your insurer know.
It was all an education for me, but then my only processions that I care about are my bike and my iPad. Perhaps I should think about insuring them?
She’s finished in the shower now. I need to have one then we’re going down for a drink before dinner. It all feels so grown up – here’s the view from our window…Read More
I’ve loosely given this post the category of Travel – I don’t really consider a trip over to Huddersfield to be travel, but it certainly isn’t going to be about sex or fashion. Have you been to Huddersfield?
It’s a curious place and one that with a (very) careful tour you could convince someone that it’s rather attractive. Tonight we wandered along the canal side, with willows drooping their length branches into the water, where fishermen sat, rather optimistically, in the shade.
We ate a great curry – I just wish I had paid any attention at all to the name of the place, I’d write them a glowing Tripadvisor review. The service was good and the food excellent, the nan breads were as good as nanna’s and that’s saying a lot. I find that English Indians tend to coat everything in so much butter or ghee as if every Englishman wanted a fat little belly like an Indian, but nanna’s are always much more dry.
Actually saying about fat Brits, blimey there are some fat school kids in this town, I find that quite depressing. If they’re fat when they are only pre-teens what hope is there of ever being thing again?
We’re staying in a Travelodge, sharing a big bed, but no hanky panky. I’m with Charleene, she’s tall, gorgeous, and somehow always smells amazing, even at the end of the day. She’s black too and has oodles of mystique. But she’s not warm to my touch and she’s too valuable as a friend to risk anything. I’m properly tuned in these days and it avoids any embarrassing situations.
Charlene was visiting an old aunt of hers and wanted me to come along to take her out afterwards.
I’m always game!
Anyway, she’s just finished in the shower, my turn, then we’re off out to find some drinking.Read More
It feels like an age since I took on the Orange P7 from Colin’s dad, but I still haven’t ridden it.
I came so close, but as soon as I sat on my new charge saddle it tipped back, the happening wasn’t serious, but it was pretty damn surprising. I didn’t quite fall off.
Trying to tighten it up didn’t work. The knurls (is that the right word?) that hold the two bits of the seat post together must have worn away because I couldn’t make it grip.
I’ve now left it in The Bike Shed, the shop at the end of the road, where they’ll get me a new post.
All in all it will end up costing me as much as a reasonable new bike, but no new bike is ever likely to be as cool as the P7 will be.
I’ll pick it up next week and then I need to get myself fit as there is talk of the girl’s cycling club going out to Coed Y Brennin – no idea if that is spelt right, but it’s the big mountain bike trail out in north Wales. One of the girls has a house out there where we’ll all stay, and then ride the few miles to the centre.
Right now just riding up the hill to her house would do me in completely, and I’m the youngest of the girls so I can’t let them trash me. I’ve been giving it hell around Manchester on my Plug, but you have to ride a long way to get to any hills around here.
It’s funny how a lot of girl cyclists blame their big arses on their miles in the saddle, my little arse is as tight as a bun, and I’m very proud of it – shame lycra isn’t my thing really.
Oops – sorry just a little self indulgent digression there.Read More
It was strange having a guy stay, let alone one who came encumbered with some other guy’s dog.
The dog (Bess, even though he’s a boy) and I became besser mates, I could get him to do all sorts, including sitting from a distance. This endeared me too him massively and I was disappointed when they both left this morning, even to see The Dude off, though Saturday night became a bit uncomfortable.
He was so sweet, and actually asked if he could kiss me. I had been expecting him to just try it on and that was so gentle of him that I almost said yes. But then I crushed the poor fellow by telling him that I am a lesbian and in love with Suzy (OK, slight exaggeration these, but almost true). I told him that I’m happy to be good friends, see each other, share the same duvet while sleeping, or watching TV on the floor, but it isn’t going to go any further.
On Saturday night he was crestfallen, but yesterday he seemed to just shrug it off and we had a top day walking along the canal into Manchester, then into the Northern Quarter and drinking super strong coffee in the covered bit outside of Northern Tea Power, talking everything from old rock music to the appalling state of British politics.
I had said that I couldn’t be arsed to vote and he gave me a royal telling off for that. He said it was like bending over with my pants down saying “Fuck me then”. He said it was giving in and letting them of anything they wanted. And he was so animated I took it to heart, and promised that I’d even vote in the European elections – best do that then.Read More
I’ve had a funny old Saturday so far, but I’m massively enjoying it.
My mate The Dude has come down from Newcastle for the weekend, but he has also brought his mate’s dog!
I quite like The Dude, and I quite like dogs, so this should be an ideal combination. He drove us out to Knutsford today so that we could walk through the lovely grounds of Tatton Park.
That was funny straight off because The Dude, yes I really do call him that, has no sense of style whatsoever. He would wear exactly the same thing every day given the choice, he looks a bit gothic/rock in a very 80s student kind of way. But Knutsford is one of the richest bits around Manchester and the whole town seems to be just estate agents, expensive restaurants and very very expensive kitchen shops.
The Dude noticed none of this!
He even walked past a showroom selling McLaren cars and didn’t pass comment. I’m a girl, I don’t care much about cars, and yet I still felt a shiver of excitement at being just a couple of metres away from a car that costs more than I’m likely to earn in my whole life!
The dog loved the park and it ran after its ball tirelessly for a couple of hours, including swimming for it in the lake, and even ignoring the ducks in favour of the ball. It left me thinking how much I’d like a dog and I started to ask The Dude about it, but that’s when I found out the dog is his mate’s, but that he has been looking after it for a few weeks now and has grown to like it, even though he hates having to pick up its poo.
We didn’t see these formal gardens, although we did see the house in the distance. But look at the photo and you can see the lake in the distance.
The Dude was well impressed with my love of Eminem, although I think he was hoping to get off with me so I had to put him straight – he’s a lovely guy, but he’s not what occupies my mind, or tingles my bits.Read More