What with the torrential rain during the day I was a little concerned I'd be facing TC's wrath, or at least blame. Happily, it all dried up for tea time and blue skies greeted my ride to the station. I had only a few moments to admire the way that every train on the board was late when Kim rolled up. With mudguards, disc brakes and a spare set of dry clothing it was clear she was prepared for Morecambe Part II.
My earlier fears returned on the train as theclouds steadily darkened. Rain greeted us once we got to Cardiff. We decided the better part of common sense if not valour was to wait in the station until someone else showed up or the rain stopped. TMN duly showed up accompanied by firends who seemed to know where they were going. Result!
We made good time to the Millennium Centre, and hence to Pizza Express. Who weren't serving any more. Not a result! But the rain did stop! Double result! And I was vindicated!
The ride itself had its ups and downs - and wonderful little farm roads to Llanwit Major. Were I succeeded in not losing the ride, but the intrepid trio of Adrian, BigGee and 'Teef finally caught up with us.
More delightful roads followed, until I was waymarking at a junction a couple of miles before the halfway stop. Whereupon a taxi pulled up and three people poured themselves from it. I steeled myself for the worst when I heard the inevitable cries of "Look, a cyclist!!", but they were just curoius as to what was going on.
"You're going where?"
"Still ten of you to come? How about I get you a cup of tea? Infact, I'll get you ten cups of tea, how's about that?"
- "That's very kind of you but we've got our halfway tea stop just coming up"
"Oooh, I'll bring you a cuppa, you can drink it if you're still here!"
And he did! Wonderful! You'd never have guessed, at three in the morning in the middle of nowhere, but that's it: it's these acts of kindness that keep me coming to the FNRttC, that reinvigorate my faith in humanity. And if you ever read this, Jamie, you're a Top Bloke. Thank You.
The tea stop, for all that it had been arranged at the last moment, was wonderful, the staff and cakes simply delightful. Bog Road, it must be said, was somewhat less so. But Mumbles Pier more than made up for it. And though Greg said this was the "antisocial table", he was anything but. Neither was 'Teef, even after his marathon 250 miles. The milk shake was to die for - and, Greg, I owe you for that.
The customary post-ride debrief was held at the pub at the top of the hill - and well done for climbing it, Mice! Sadly, all too soon it was time to go.
A fine ride then. Just as well, really, as the plaster cast and pair of crutches are telling me that it'll be my last FNRttC for a while...
