a frustrating morning trying to get to someone by phone, terminated by the unstoppable, unknowable desire to ride my bicycle. Over to Clapham Junction, and a train down to Pulborough, then south to Amberley Station and North Stoke, to see if the suspension footbridges across the Arun were back in service. They weren't, but now the Gurkhas are on the case (really) they should be back with us by August 7th (hoorah!). Took the path up the downs, and then the chalk and flint path across the top, which is really do-able on 23C tyres. The birdsong was just so lovely, a sort of peeeewi sound, really simple and pure, and the swathes of poppies - some red, and some yellow - on the downs, while doubtless a source of anguish to the farmer, were a delight.
Swooped down to Burpham, on to Arundel, Ford, Yapton and then Felpham for a bit of an explore followed by fish and chips eaten au plein air by the sea - just perfect. What more could a chap wish for?
Chatted to the Babe who had her flight to Knoxville cancelled (I by tide of Felpham etc) and then fielded a call from the kid asking when I would be home, it being a little too far for her to go up to the chipshop, whereas a swift 70 miles on the bike would do me the world of good....
Rang Trainline from Yapton and realised that I had 40 minutes to get back to Pulborough, which was accomplished in 36 at 20mph, not bad for one so old and decrepit given the rise to Bury Hill. And train home. Kid doing art on the dining room table, so we talked about art for a while, and didn't come to the usual standoff, which was nice. Unfolded the Brompton and whizzed up to the high street for provisions, returned, made the kid her tea, and watched the sun go down. All is well, except herself arrived in Knoxville in a small plane in a big thunderstorm and is thoroughly out of sorts.