A perfect 10 for a Bank Holiday weekend in Bristol

Easily the best Bank Holiday I can remember for a long time, not only because of all the amazing sunshine which transformed the whole country, but for all the wonderful things Bristol offers.
The weekend kicked off nicely with a boozy Friday night at the newly-refurbished Anchor Pub, which is now part of the Mezze chain. Unfortunately we arrived just too late to make good on the promise of free flowing champagne, (and for some reason the two girls in impossible heels seemed to get served ahead of me) but nevertheless enjoyed getting used to the new-look pub and the several pints of Gem while chatting to an ageing hipppy call Cosmic Sam. I’m not even joking. His name was really Cosmic, something or other.
What was once a neglected relic with carpets and decor from 1973 has in the a matter of weeks been transformed into a modern, contemporary, Mediterranean-influenced gastro type pub, that I’ve been waiting to arrive since I moved here two years ago.
Saturday was full of chores and carbloading for Sunday, when Amy and I took on the Bristol 10K. We’ve both been looking forward to it, and after my decision to pull out of the Edinburgh Marathon, I could really enjoy the occasion and revel in the atmosphere. Amy did  a great job of setting the pace and we finished in a steady 1hr 20mins.

Approaching the finish at the Bristol 10K

It was quite a contrast to the last time we took part, about four or five years ago, when it was a much smaller field of runners and we were much less prepared and in the end was barely able to keep up with a woman dressed as a sugar plumb fairy, with the figure to match, and a few power walkers. I think they were even starting to pick up the cones and reopen the roads as we plodded along. But this year we smashed our previous time by almost 20 minutes, and had a great time being part of this amazing spectacle.
After finishing the run we hit the Burger Joint on Whiteladies Road for a well-deserved pint and mahoosive gourmet burger, which I’d been thinking about most of the way round.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a weird blur as I kept falling asleep on the sofa, in the bath and found myself almost in bed at about 6pm. It was all we could do to muster and get back round the pub for a few more pints in celebration of our achievements.
So today, with the sun shining, my little Schwin Fastback push bike was looking like a very tempting prospect, as news of Team Sky in Italy’s Giro came on the radio. Having just had the bike overhauled at Mike’s Bikes in Portishead, (which is definitely worth a plug as they did such a great job) I decided it was time to road test it properly.
Being lucky enough to live on the cycle network I headed towards Bristol on the Avon River Trail, went through the city and out to Bath, then back again, clocking up about 45 miles in the process.

Of course, everybody else in the world had the same idea and it was very busy, which is great of course as it gives people a chance to get out and enjoy the countryside, like I was. I just wish I could have had it all to myself. I’m waiting for the sunburn to kick in now as it was really properly hot on the road. Despite taking two drinking bottles I had to stop at an ice cream van on the harbourside in Bristol for what turned out to be the best can of Coke and Magnum ice cream I’ve ever had. Much needed at that point.

The view of Bristol's floating harbour and the Balmoral this evening

I also discovered why they have signs on the road there warning cyclists not to ride along the dockside at the floating harbour because of the danger of getting wheels caught in the old tram lines. I discovered this after getting my wheel caught in one of the old tram lines and falling haplessly off my bike, right in front of one of those signs. Must have made someone’s day.
So now back to work, at least it’s only three weeks until the next bank holiday, which I’m sure will be as sunny and amazing. This is England in the springtime after all.

I'm The Invisible Man

Pic caption: Me in lovely Bath.





AFTER weeks of threatening to do it I finally went into the shed, clambered over the rusting barbecue, odd wellies and growbags to hoyk out my bike.
I love my bike, at least I did a few years ago when it was new and lovely and worked like a dream and more importantly I could get the best out of it.
Things, I discovered, are a bit different now. After brushing off the odd bit of mould and pumping up the tyres, I decided to ignore the fact that half the bike was covered in rust and climbed on to the razor-like saddle.
My bike is a Schwinn, what you used to call a racer, and due to my short legs it's quite a small one. I'm not entirely convinced that it's not actually a child's bike.
But because it's quite small, and very lightweight and has very thin tyres, I felt a bit like a cartoon circus elephant wobbling into the ring on a trike.
Once I recovered my balance and remembered how the gears worked, I headed through the city.
Now, I've never been particularly passionate one way or the other on the cycling issue. I find that when I'm driving that some cyclists seem to take stupid risks by coming up the inside and cutting across me.
When I'm cycling I feel motorists don't take into account the needs of cyclists. And when I'm on foot I think motorists and cyclists are all out to get me as I try to cross a busy road in rush hour. Ultimately the most informed opinion I have is that if everybody who cycled in Bristol used a car to get where they were going, the traffic nightmare we live in would be so much worse.
But I had also forgotten just how invisible you become on a bike. It's no wonder so many cyclists wear that awful fluorescent lycra.
To be fair motorists weren't too bad, but I had to go down Whiteladies Road, Park Street and Broadmead/Cabot Circus to get the start of the Bristol to Bath cycle path.
And I couldn't believe how many times I had to swerve to get out of the way of people who just stepped into the road without bothering to look.
So busy were they talking inane rubbish on their phones, or stuffing their faces with chips, that their brains had obviously slowed down so much that they couldn't grasp the concept that I may do them some damage if I ploughed into them.
They would be the first to shout about irresponsible cyclists if I had hit them. I couldn't believe that even when I caught the eye of one particularly slow moving woman going through Broadmead, (I was on the road, not going through the middle of it) she still kept walking into the road, as if I would just bounce off her if I hit her, which may have been possible.
Clearly nothing was going to get in between her and the cookie shop she was heading for. It was quite a revelation.
I did stop at all the red lights too. But probably more because I needed to catch my breath.
So thank God for the Bristol to Bath cycle path. How wonderful to have 14 miles of tarmac undisturbed by buses cars or anything else motorised, apart from the scrotes who occasionally tear up it on their mini motos.
As I say it was a slog of a trip, I was really in no shape to take it on, but I thought I'd give it a go anyway.
I chugged along quite happily, and quite slowly, listening to a mix of block rocking beats from my iPod.
I managed to get to Bath in one piece, unlike my bike which had suffered a snapped spoke in the front wheel, you know, one of those rusty ones I wasn't worried about at the start.
I was quite knackered but exhilarated to get that far. I did contemplate finding the train station and taking the easy way home, but my ridiculous macho pride stepped in and suggested I might want to torture myself for another 14 miles or so.
A few miles into the ride back to Bristol and I was really starting to feel the pain. A second spoke snapped in my front wheel and as I stood there in the middle of absolutely nowhere, trying to untangle the metal from the forks, I wondered if I stabbed myself with it whether I could call an air ambulance to come and get me.
I thought better of wasting such precious resources and continued on to Bitton. Around Bitton there has been a weird spate of protest graffiti from a group of people who I can only assume are ultra hardline eco-warriors.
There are slogans sprayed onto the road saying things like 'Say No To Bitton Station Expansion' 'Railways Cause Global Warming', and most hilariously somebody had clambered onto an old piece of rail stock and sprayed 'Thomas Causes Climate Change'.
For those who don't know the cycle path it runs alongside the Avon Valley Railway. This is a heritage railway run mostly if not all by volunteers, where every other weekend or so in the summer steam engines chuff up and down a three mile stretch of line.
It's hardly the Trans-Siberian Railway, carrying a million tonnes of nuclear waste through paradise every day.
It's a day out for a few families and harmless train spotters whose idea of fun is listening to the sound of a steam engine whistling through the countryside.
Not exactly sitting in the South Pole stoking the fires of hell and releasing clouds of greenhouse gasses into the air.
In any case I thought more travel by railway was the green way forward, and I hope the paint they used to daub their revolutionary slogans was lead free.
Thank God for Bitton station I say as I was at the edge of sanity by the time I got there, close to hallucination and entirely spent of energy.
I headed for the cafe and bought the best Mars bar and bottle of Powerade I'd ever tasted.
I could feel my body refreshing instantly, like in a computer game when you find a medi-pack and the little bar in the top left of the screen powers up to max.
So thanks to the sugar and glucose injection I was able to get on my way and finally made it home.
The ride took three and a half hours in total, covering 34 miles. When I was at my peak of fitness some years ago I could do Bristol to Bath and back in just over two hours.
But I wasn't carrying the equivalent of a small to medium sized child on my back. That would have been weird.
Everybody was passing me, even a bloke with a trailer on his bike carrying a couple of his kids.
I don't care though, I did it and I know next time it will be better - providing my bike doesn't completely fall apart as I'm riding it.