Thank You For Your Patience

An exercise bike, yesterday

I've been far too lazy busy lately to be writing blogs but at last my dear readers I have returned and I can feel the collective sigh of indifference echo across Europe. So what have I been doing? Well it may not surprise you to know I have not been cycling. No, it is definitely too cold now to be doing that although I do have my eye on a rather nice exercise bike. I found it on eBay and it sounds fantastic. The seller says: "Not much used, but then again none of these particular models are well used because they are just so rubbish. The farthest most people do on them is the 6 miles in the back of the car to the nearest council tip." The advert finishes with some advice: "don't walk away from this once in a life-time offer..........run away." I know you don't believe me, but you have two days and eighteen hours to see this magnificent advert here.

However, this is not the sole lunatic I have discovered while trawling the web when I should be working conducting extensive research for my blog. No, there is the famous hotel coat hanger thief who is currently on trial at the High Court. Just a sample of his exchanges with the prosecuting barrister:

Counsel: What is your name?
Chrysler: Chrysler. Arnold Chrysler.
Counsel: Is that your own name?
Chrysler: Whose name do you think it is?
Counsel: I am just asking if it is your name.
Chrysler: And I have just told you it is. Why do you doubt it?
Counsel: It is not unknown for people to give a false name in court.
Chrysler: Which court?
Counsel: This court.
Chrysler: What is the name of this court?
Counsel: This is No 5 Court.
Chrysler: No, that is the number of this court. What is the name of this court?
Counsel: It is quite immaterial what the name of this court is!
Chrysler: Then perhaps it is immaterial if Chrysler is really my name.


And having wounded the hapless lawyer our hero then closed for the coup de grace:

Counsel: Now, Mr Chrysler – for let us assume that that is your name – you are accused of purloining in excess of 40,000 hotel coat hangers.
Chrysler: I am.
Counsel: Can you explain how this came about?
Chrysler: Yes. I had 40,000 coats which I needed to hang up.
Counsel: Is that true?
Chrysler: No.
Counsel: Then why did you say it?
Chrysler: To attempt to throw you off balance.
Counsel: Off balance?

Chrysler: Certainly. As you know, all barristers seek to undermine the confidence of any hostile witness, or defendant. Therefore it must be equally open to the witness, or defendant, to try to shake the confidence of a hostile barrister.

Counsel: On the contrary, you are not here to indulge in cut and thrust with me. You are only here to answer my questions.

Chrysler: Was that a question?

Counsel: No.

Chrysler: Then I can't answer it.

Again, you must surely think I am making this up but believe me, I do not have the genius required to better the humour to be found in the British justice system. It can be read in full in The Independent.

 

And so I leave you, secure in the knowledge that should you ever be accused of a crime these are the people who will defend you and serve on the jury. Sweet dreams.

Riding A Bike From Tromso To Sparta Could Give You Cancer

Could it? I'll have to ask the Daily Mail about that, they seem to be experts. Taking one random month, it's amazing the things the Mail wants you to avoid.

On June 4th it helpfully reported that "A diet rich in walnuts may significantly lower the risk of breast cancer" and, in a different story, "Turmeric has been studied .... for a variety of conditions, such as cancer and arthritis" but also warned "a report found that one large glass of wine a day can increase the risk of breast cancer by a quarter".

Four days later and three different stories report firstly the bad news that hormone replacement therapy causes cancer but on a more positive note a stomach virus, a brisk walk and a tomato all protect you from the killer disease.

On the 9th, ginger capsules reduce cancer symptoms by 40% while green tea and mushrooms reduce your susceptibility by an incredible 90%.

Friday the 12th brings great news for my mum! Women who gossip with their neighbours are less at risk of cancer.

Mixed blessings on the 14th and 15th. One day comes the news that stress stops cancer but the next day comes the news that fear of doctors increases the risk of cancer by 40%. I've decided not to fear doctors but to become stressed about it, that should balance the risk with the benefit, (although, bizarrely, the Mail says it will turn me grey!)

Do you chop your carrots and then cook them or cook them first and then chop them? It's worth researching because the 17th reveals that doing it the wrong way gives you a 25% higher chance of the big C. Meanwhile, June 19th brings the shocking news that wheelie bins cause cancer.

To help you avoid this killer disease, here are things that the Mail last year claimed protect you from cancer: Yellow fever vaccine, spring water, three cups of tea a day, thalidomide, sunbeds, aspirin, plums, Marcus Wareing's Indian Thali sandwich, chocolate, exercise, suncream made from chocolate, yoghurt, suncream made from broccoli, two cups of tea a day, tiny flakes of gold in your cup of tea, a cup of tea that has been left to cool for four minutes, oily fish, two handfuls of baby broccoli every day for two months, yoga, blueberries, vitamin D supplements, half a glass of wine a day, one glass of wine a day and sex.

Phew, what a list! Surely we're all protected? Well let's hope so because there is also a lot of things that the Mail states cause cancer: Mouthwash, hormone replacement therapy, herbal remedies, mineral supplements, illegal tanning drugs, expectant mothers drinking coffee, make-up, salt in soup, immigrants, cannabis, junk food, facebook, deodorant, a pint of beer a day, wi-fi technology, soya, well-done steak, nicotine gum, saturated fat, having your nails done, folic acid, a quarter of a glass of wine a day, one glass of wine a day, Marks and Spencer kitchen utensils and sex.

Perhaps the most public spirited action though is the Mail's destruction of silly allegations. When Gwyneth Paltrow had the nerve to suggest that shampoo could cause cancer the Mail swung into action to protect the public from wild, unfounded claims. Some of the descriptions of her views include 'loopy', 'rubbish' and 'a load of nonsense'.

Luckily it is all put into perspective by the Mail's tame scientist. "There has been an obsession about carcinogenic chemicals for years and we have been successful in getting rid of most of them." he says. Well certainly one newspaper seems obsessed.

"It does annoy me when celebrities use their position to spout nonsense. They have a perfect right to their views, even if they are loopy, but they do hold a position of influence. You may as well ask someone on the Underground." So there you have it. For accuracy and truth you may as well ask someone on the underground as read the Mail.

He concludes; "There are a lot of scare stories around environmental carcinogens but there is scant evidence to back this up." I shouldn't think too many of their readers worry about evidence.

Strictly Come Teaching

Not long to go now and all will be revealed. A nation holds its breath as training rooms and schedules are arranged, potential is assessed and everything humanly possible is done to make sure that each eager partnership is as well matched as possible. Yes, in just a week or two my fellow teachers and I will find out who has been given Kara Tointon and who will get Anne Widdecombe. For every CAE group made up of hardworking, ambitious twentsomethings there's a group of bored, rebellious 12 year olds. Unlike the TV show, however, no amount of time on a premium rate phoneline can get rid of our students. Perhaps that could be the incentive they need, whoever is the worse student each week gets publicly humiliated and voted out by the rest of the class and will henceforce be forced into one of Frank's classes.

Of course, the quality of your English teacher can have a profound affect (or is that effect?) on the rest of your life. Not only your life either but the lives of those you come into contact with. I'm sure some of you will have seen before the terrible consequences of this German coastguard having been taught by a less illustrious institution than Linguaviva, but for those who haven't, it's a sobering warning.

 

Then there is the famous case of the Korean toothpaste company who could not understand why their sales were so terrible when they had spent so much money on advertising. The "English speaking" agency they had commisioned had, after much brainstorming, come up with this inspiring slogan "Gives You Strong Mouth And Refreshing Wind!". But most dangerous of all are the lessons given by this English school in Saudi Arabia. Remember, if you break the law in Saudi you can be whipped or even mutilated.

Long Days

I'm sorry to say that I haven't been too well lately, I've had a slight temperature and generally haven't been up to going out at all, instead I've just been lounging around the flat. It's not so bad having to stay home, there's just about everything you could ever want to see, read or play available on the internet, I've got hundreds of DVDs to watch and there's even the Nintendo if I can be bothered to wire it all up. Yet you know what the kids say if they have to stay home? "I'm bored!" Bored? They don't know what bored is! Try staying home sick for a day when all you have is Etch-A-Sketch, then tell me you know about bored. When I was a kid and it rained I got to spend a whole day playing with Fuzzy Felt. I swear, it was more fun being at school.

I can just feel my parents bristling with indignation at my ingratitude as they read this because, of course, growing up in the 50's they had different toys. For Christmas they might, if they were lucky, get a stick to play with. I do have sympathy for their generation though because I've heard tales of how they tried to magically make their black and white TV seem colour by holding Quality Street wrappers over their eyes. I've never been able to work out if that was a good idea, particularly if, after watching the Lone Ranger in purple, you were overheard in the playground shouting "Hi Ho, Lilac!"

Speaking of parents, I'm pleased to say mine will be flying over to visit and in a stunning triumph of hope over experience they have chosen Ryanair. I have been advised by my lawyers that if I describe Ryanair as "cattle class" I may be sued by the National Farmers Union so let's just remember that, in introducing the fuel surcharge, Ryanair became the first airline to agree to give you a lift only if you promise to chip in for petrol. Still, as their advertising slogan goes, It's Better Than Walking!

Rain, Glorious Rain

All day long today, rain and rain and more rain. Which is bad because I can't go out on the bike but is also good because I don't have to go out on the bike. So what have I been doing? Well, today I have planned a little more of the route. If you remember, I was trying to find a way to get my golf clubs on the back of the bike so we could have a round of golf in Narvik.

Whether we find a way or not, day three will see us travelling 130km from Narvik to Innhavet. Now I thought Olsborg, with it's post office and bus stop, was a small town, but Innhavet does not even have a wikipedia page. From what I can gather, Innhavet translates as "inland sea" and to the east are several bays, one called Troll Pollen and two which are both called Sagpollen. While Innhavet does not see fit to boast of it's shopping facility or bus shelter, it does have a campsite so we will at least be safe from marauding reindeer. In all seriousness, this is one of the parts of the trip that I really am looking forward to because from the map and photos this should be spectacular, the full majesty of the fjords.

From Innhavet day four sees us travel 121km to Batsvika. From my research I honestly believe that this is not a place but simply a made up word placed on the map to pretend that there is not just a huge empty wilderness there. 200 years ago it would have said "HERE BE DRAGONS!!". Norwegian cartographers are notorious for this kind of thing but I shall not be fooled. I couldn't find an image of Batsvika, so here is another one of Innhavet, just pretend.

Grazes And Wet Patches

Is it too much to ask, do you think, just to go out once and have a nice, gentle easy ride with no agro, no problems and no injuries? Surely this will happen one day. But not last weekend. Friday saw 25km. It was supposed to be twice that but when I was about half an hour away from home God saw me and decided to have a bit of a laugh by making it suddenly start pouring with rain. I'm sure he was sat up there having a proper chuckle at his jolly jape, all the more so when he decided to really wind me up by waiting until I got home and then making it suddenly stop. To think that He could be doing a bit of smiting at Simon Cowell or anyone involved in the production of Big Brother but He prefers to make it rain on me. It's not big omnipotent and it's not clever omnicogniscant.

However, if I thought Friday was a downer, Sunday easily topped it. I was about 6km from home when, for no apparent reason, I fell off the bike. It could have been a bit of mud, it could have been a bit of oil, I don't know. Whatever it was, it brought me down. It may be easy falling off a log but I can tell you now, it's no fun falling off a bike, especially one that's going at a fair old lick.

My Right Leg

What's really annoying is that having just got back from Italy the skin that was on my leg was quite tanned. I bet when it grows back (Question: Skin does grow back, right?) it's going to be all white and look daft, all the inside of my lower leg will be brown and the outside brown and white stripes. It'll look like a tie from 1975.

Meanwhile, I hope you are all suitably impressed with my vast knowledge of European football. Five correct results out of six and I even got the score right for England. I may have to set up a premium rate phone line with gambling tips. Even the one I got wrong I don't feel bad about as it involved France losing. I now love Belarus. Tomorrow sees the next round of matches and Italy should comfortably see off the Faroe Islands, England will likewise beat Switzerland and much as I would love to see Belarus repeat their triumph I'm going to tip against them again and say Romania will win. Scotland may just sneak a win against Lichtenstein and the most interesting match for me will be Norway against Portugal. How will Ronaldo and co. respond to their draw with Cyprus? I hope I'm wrong but I'll predict a comfortable Portugese win.

Sport, Glorious Sport

I suppose that some of you out there may get the idea from my irrational aversion to physical effort that I am not too keen on sport but let me dispel that misapprehension immediately. I love sport, all kinds of sport. Particularly the kind of sports which involve sedentary consumption of beer while the action occurs a few feet away on a 42" widescreen TV. Which is why tonight I will be giving my full attention to the first round of Euro2012 qualifiers. Because the next tournament will be held in Poland and Ukraine I hope to actually see some of the games. But before I impart my rather considerable wisdom on football, let's turn for a moment to cricket.

Like many of you, (apart from all the ones who come from countries where cricket is not played i.e. about 95% of the world) I have been following the revelations about the Pakistan team with interest. Most cricket fans will not be at all surprised by the revelations but what I am particularly amused by is the shock and horror of the newspapers at the possibility of a sportsman making a mistake at a pre-ordained point in the match. Let's remember, the players have not been caught cheating and they have not been caught affecting the outcome of the match. After all, who would imagine that some people might be prepared to do something during a sports match that means nothing, not even affecting a result that changes nothing anyway, in return for more money than their family has earned in 16 generations. It's beyond belief!

And so on to the football. The most interesting match for me tonight is Italy v. Estonia. Italy have played Estonia four times and won every time but right now thay are going through a terrible run. This year they have not won a single game despite playing Cameroon, Ivory Coast, Mexico, Switzerland, Paraguay, Slovakia and New Zealand. I have a horrible feeling that tonight could see another poor result. Other interesting games include Sweden v. Hungary, Latvia v. Croatia, Lithuania v. Scotland, France v. Belarus and England v. Bulgaria. I expect England will do their usual trick of winning every qualifying game about 4-0 and then failing in the actual tournament due to a combination of inept refereeing and fat, cheating Argentines. (And also being rubbish but not mentioning that). Meanwhile, like every true Englishman there is nothing I would like to see more than Belarus destroying the French although I fear that is unlikely. Ўдачы сёння, каб французская выглядаць бязглузда!*

I predict wins for Italy, Sweden, France and England and a draw between Lithuania and Scotland. Latvia v. Croatia is tight but should be a win for Croatia.

As for sport which does not involve sitting in front of the TV, OK, OK, I know. I'm going in a minute.


*Good Luck tonight, make the French look stupid!

To Key Or Not To Key

33km today which means my August total is a rather butch 453km, up from 270km for July. I'm especially pleased with this because various things have meant that for the last two weeks I've hardly been out on the bike. Today, however, I managed it, and guess what. Yes, that's right, once again things did not go smoothly.

The first problem was my keys. Now usually when I cycle I don't carry anything. No money, no wallet, no keys, no nothing. So before I left I asked Renata if she was going out and she said no. I got changed, got the bike and then asked again. "No", she said, "and you've already asked me that." I said I knew but that I was just checking because I wasn't taking my keys. I think you can guess by now what's going to happen.

Anyway, off I went. As usual the outward journey was easy enough, all downhill and nothing unexpected. After 14km I turned round to come home and as usual the return journey was bursting with the torments of hell. Uphill, all the way, muscles burning, legs screaming, lungs rasping and the usual thoughts running through my mind. Stuff like, "I could be sitting at home now", and "Oh my God, I think I'm going to die".

Eventually I arrived home and rang the bell. No answer. Try again. Still no answer. So there I was, tired, sweating, in the cold and nowhere to go. So I went and did another 5km.

Lonely Hearts - The Truth Revealed

First of all, just to the right here you can now see a little counter which shows you how many kilometres I've cycled since records began. Next target is that by Sunday it will say at least 850.

Meanwhile, I have still been lazy. In the absence of doing any road work, I've been trying to find people from along my route to give me some advice about which places to see and where to avoid. This has basically involved joining lots of forums and penpal sites and while there are lots of fun people out there you have to beware of a few. They have their own code but today I can reveal it to you. Let's look at the ladies first. What they say and then what that means!

40-ish ---- 50

Athletic---- Flat-chested

Average looking---- Ugly

Emotionally secure---- On prescription drugs

Free spirit---- On illegal drugs

Fun ---- Irritating

Outgoing ---- Loud and irritating

Passionate---- Argumentative, loud and irritating

Open-minded ---- Desperate

Professional---- Bitch

Romantic---- Only looks good in dim lighting

Rubinesque---- Grossly overweight

Looking for a soulmate---- Stalker

And beware ladies, there are a few things you should know about men:

40-ish---- 52, looking for a 25 year old

Athletic---- I have a Sky subscription

Average looking---- Hairy ears, nose and back

Good Looking---- Arrogant

Free spirit---- Will sleep with your friends

Huggable teddy bear---- Overweight, excess body hair

Mature---- Immature

Physically fit ---- Able to walk

Spiritual ---- Went to church once

However, if by some strange miracle you ever find a "normal" person to go out with you have to know that people of the opposite gender speak a different language. While I have succesfully used Google translate to speak to lots of people, they have yet to update the gender version. So here's a few tips. Again, what ladies say first:

We need = I want

It's your decision= I think it's clear what I want

Do what you want = You'll pay for this

I'm not upset = I'm upset

Nothing's wrong = Something's wrong

You're very attentive tonight = Is sex all you think about

Do you love me? = I want something expensive

How much do you love me? = I've made a really expensive mistake

Yes = No

No = No

Maybe = No

I'm sorry = You'll be sorry

I don't want to talk about it = You wait until I have enough evidence

Do I look fat in this dress = Shall we have a row?

No, pizza is fine = cheap bastard

Of course, men are much more straightforward creatures:

I'm hungry = I'm hungry

I'm bored = I'm bored

I'm tired = I'm tired

Do you want a massage? = Can I grope you?

Nice dress! = Nice cleavage!

Do you want to go to the cinema? = I'd like to have sex with you

Can I take you out for dinner? = I'd like to have sex with you

Can I call you sometime = I'd like to have sex with you

Would you like to dance? = I'd like to have sex with you

I love you = Let's have sex now

What's wrong? = What meaningless self-inflicted psychological trauma are you going through now?

What girl? = Of course I saw her

I like that one = Just buy anything and let's go home

I'm not sure that blouse and skirt go together = I'm gay

How do I compare with your other boyfriends? = How big is my penis?

Scare Tactics, Top Gear and Mamils

One thing I found this week was that there is a word for people like me and that word is 'MAMIL'. Like the marvelous YUPPIE and WAG, these acronyms have been coined by journalists with nothing better to do. A MAMIL is a middle-aged man in lycra, and while I have not yet bought any lycra, and my middle-age does not begin for another 303 days, I like the word. I am proud to be a MAMIL. You can read about MAMILs on the BBC website http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-10965608 .

So where are the MAMILs coming from? I suppose that as time goes by you start to look back and wonder why you haven't made your mark on the world, or, if you have, why your mark is so small that nobody can see it. By the time Alexander The Great was my age he'd been dead for six years. And so the irresistible urge to be more than mundane cannot be ignored. After all, who can look back on their life and say 'Yes, I have done something truly epic.'

It will shortly be time to embark upon today's lengthy outing, but before I depart I thought I would just share with you some of the exciting things I have discovered in the last few days. First of all, I was sent a clip from a US show called Scare Tactics. It really is worth watching.

Also, anyone in the UK who watched Top Gear will have seen Hammond racing two skidoos in Sweden. This was filmed at a resort called Riksgränsen. This resort is the northernmost ski resort in the world. Anywhere further north than this is simply too cold for a winter holiday. We'll be starting 250km to the north. I'm starting to feel like the spiritual heir to Captain Scott.

And now, off I go.

No Cycling Means More Time For My Scandinavian Friends

Yes dear friends, I am afraid I have been rather naughty this week and have not put foot to pedal since Sunday. In fact, I doubt I will be cycling at all until the weekend. "What's that?" I hear you cry. "Can our heroic hero's heroism have deserted him". Fear not, for I am neither faint-hearted nor floundering but I am babysitting. Until the kids go back to school next week I am fated to remain housebound except for the weekends and, possibly, a few hours tomorrow. My opportunity to get out tonight was thwarted by a new student who is also going to be doing a bit of thwarting on other nights.

I have, however, made contact with lots of friendly Vikings who are kindly reading this rubbish. If you look at the bottom of the page you will see my snazzy new counter which reveals that I am a big hit in Estonia and also popular in Finland. How cool is that? I'm also expecting an influx of Latvians and Lithuanians shortly so excuse me if there is a lot of Nordic written tonight. Incidently, my favourite Norwegian friend has a fantastic blog at http://trollieska.blogspot.com/ which I highly recommend. It's in Norwegian so I've no idea what it's about but I understood some of the pictures.

So Finland, Odotan vierailevat. Oma suosikki henkilö Helsingissä on Aki Riihilahti, kerro hänelle olen tulossa. Seriously, I'm originally from South London so he might know me:-). And Estonia, Täname väga vastuste ei ütle ülejäänud Läänemerel, kuid te olete nüüd mu lemmik Balti riigis. I mean that most sincerely. For Latvia. Izaicinājums. Ar pirmo septembri, jums ir vairāk karogi apakšā blog nekā Igaunijā? Bet piesargāties, Lietuva ir tāda pati problēma. Lithuania get the same message, Iššūkis. Iki rugsėjo pirmąją bus jums daugiau vėliavomis, nei Estija blogas apačioje? Bet saugokitės, Latvija yra ta pati problema.

OK, enough with Google translator. I must admit it's slightly bizarre. When this blog started there were absolutely no plans to write half of it in foreign but there you go. So what to do now that there is no cycling this week? Well I've been looking at the route so how about some of that? We start in Tromso which, according to my Norwegian friends, is cold. Also, I've been warned that in Norway there is a culture of drinking heavily. Tromso is therefore full of snow and beer which means it is quite possibly the town upon which heaven was based. I can't wait to get there. From there we go south to Olsborg. According to Wikipedia, Olsborg has "a grocery store, gas station, guest lounge and several small shops." It also used to have a bus stop but this has been moved to Moen. Several hundred people live there. I haven't yet decided whether or not we should spend a few days there. Then on to Narvik which has one of the most northerly golf courses in the world. If anyone can think of a way I can carry a full set of clubs on my bike, please let me know. Although given the stunning lack of response to my requests for you to invent a comfortable saddle or small, invisible engine, it looks like we might need to give the golf a miss.

Surely, This Is Hell

I really wanted to write a message to Finland today, but yesterday's horror story is too long, so bear with me Helsinki, I will talk to you soon.

I went a long way yesterday. A very long way. A very long way indeed. I'm not sure how far and that's due to a combination of things, all of which are entirely Maciek's fault, but it was somewhere between 60km and 65km. What did Maciek do wrong? The first thing was to not look at his speedometer gadget before we started so we didn't know how far we'd gone. The second was slightly more surreal. For reasons that I still do not fully understand, he took us off the comfortable, level tarmac and onto tracks, forests, beaches and quicksand which, unsurprisingly, do not feature on Googlemaps. Welcome to the world of what some call 'off-road-biking', others 'extreme-biking' and to what I have dubbed 'What-the-hell-are-we-doing-here-biking'.

It started off when we took a slight detour to get to the village of Sucha. A forest road, in the process of being resurfaced, provided bumps and opportunities to avoid tree stumps. The road out of Sucha was even more entertaining. It had been split into two parts to give travellers an interesting choice of surfaces. On the left were cobbles, but not the uniform, flat cobbles of a Salford terrace's back alley. No, these were random stones ranging from the size of a fist to the size of breeze blocks. Another innovative process was to dump them haphazardly and allow them to settle in four inches of mud rather than attempting to provide any semblance of a flat surface. Needless to say, I chose the other side of the road. Which was four inches of mud.

Soon though, the road surface dilemma was a thing of the past as we left any pretence of roads and headed into the forest. Bouncing happily over logs, pits and occasional wildlife we made our way to a lake and stopped for a rest. Now I understand why people like to take rests when exercising but ever since I passed thirty a rest has only ever provided my muscles and joints with the opportunity to stiffen up so this was not the best idea for me. 45 minutes later we set off again with parts of me creaking and an exciting new road surface; sand. Now for some reason I seemed to sink much further into the sand the the rest of our jolly troupe. I think my bike is made of lead. Anyway, whatever the reason the sand was horribly difficult so after a while I was overjoyed to see tarmac again even if it was only a brief respite on our way to the main desert.

It was a desert. I know certain other people will claim it was a slightly sandy track through a forest but I was there. We crossed the desert with the promise of something to see on the other side and there was. It was a big tree. I had a photo of me taken next to the big tree, got bitten by fierce mosquitoes and headed back to the lake for another opportunity to allow my limbs to seize up.

Finally, eventually, it was time to head home. I'd been stiffened, bitten and shaken. My elbows were loose and one of my hips had come undone. I'd ridden on sand, mud, tracks, random aggregate and ploughed fields and at last it was time to go home. Remember where I live? Oh yes, on the top of the mountain. Isn't cycling fun?

Back On The Road Again

This week has seen a distinct lack of cycling activity, although on the plus side I now have some Norwegian friends, which is always handy. More about that later.

After my efforts on Monday (which I still find hard to believe) I spent Tuesday packing, Wednesday and Thursday driving home and Friday unpacking before getting back in the saddle for a gentle 20km this morning. Sadly, my memory was not deceiving me and I do indeed live on the top of a small mountain. This means the first 10km was rather pleasant and refreshing while the second 10km was one long, slow uphill battle. Poor Adam saw me close to home and must have wondered why I looked like a slightly over-ripe, sweaty tomato.

On to Norwegian friends. I found an excellent free penpal site and am busy contacting anyone who lives on our route in order to make them read this blog. That's a lot of penpals and while most of them ignore me and a few of the teenagers have probably contacted the police, there are some positive responses. The big benefit of this is that I have had some quite interesting exchanges with various Scandinavians and Norway has now almost overtaken the USA in terms of readers with Sweden close behind. I have also found someone keen to accompany us for part of the way and a young lady who thinks I must be in good shape. I agreed with her wholeheartedly because, as I pointed out, round is a good shape.
 
I've already catered for Norway with Google translate but for the Swedes, Hej, välkommen till min värld.* I have to say I am reluctant to keep greeting people in their native tongue after the abusive comment I got from Anonymous from Belgium. I sincerely believe I am one of the few people in history to be mocked by a Belgian.
 
*Hello. Welcome to my world.

Monstrously Epic

There is clearly only one way to begin today's missive and that is with a burst of gleeful, almost manical, laughter. In an impressive time of two hours and 17 minutes this morning I managed to cover the not inconsiderable distance of 50 kilometres and 34 metres. I will not pretend this monumental achievement came without a price. Like Forrest Gump I have a serious wound in my butt-tock and the consequence of extra time spent pedalling in the sun is a nose and cheeks the colour and texture of over-ripe strawberries. However, I am now 100% confident that I have the craggy physique required to travel 120km in a single day. With a little extra polish I'm sure this can become the finely sculpted physique neccessary to repeat the feat fifty times in two months.

TOP TIP

Lorry, coach and HGV drivers - Your prehistoric diesel engine, overloaded chassis and agressive, own-the-road driving style means you can be heard at least 100 metres away. It is consequently unneccessary for you to use any energy warning cyclists of your presence with a long, loud blast of your airhorn when you are 15 bloody inches behind them.



I leave you with a piece of sad news which I hope will not cause you, gentle reader, to do anything foolish. I have no further plans to cycle this week because early Wednesday morning I will begin the long journey home, arriving Thursday night. This means there will probably be no more blogging until the weekend. I hope and pray you find some other meaningless drivel to entertain you until then.

Arrividerci.

And Now For Something Completely Different

BIG JOKE

Bit of a mixed bag today. First of all, a joke. Three pieces of string walk into a bar. The first string says to the other two, "Sit down boys, I'll get these in," and he goes to the bar. "Three pints please," he says to the barman. "Are you a piece of string?" asks the barman, "Yes," replies the string. "Sorry, we don't serve string in here." So the string goes back to his friends and says "We'll have to go, they don't serve string here." "Hang on," says the second string, "It's probably just you. Don't worry, I'll get these in." So he goes to the bar and says "Three pints please." "Are you a piece of string?" asks the barman, "Yes," replies the string. "Sorry, we don't serve string in here." says the barman. Despondent, the string walks back to his friends. "Come on," he says, "We best find another pub." Then the third string says "Let me have a go first." So he ties himself up, ruffles his hair, walks to the bar and says "Three pints please." "Are you a piece of string?" asks the barman, "No," replies the string, "I'm a frayed knot!"

I'VE BEEN BADLY LET DOWN

Yes, Simon The Brave is not taking this seriously enough. Here I am slogging my guts out every morning in preparation (I did 138km this week) and I thought Simon might be doing something. Maybe not training every morning, maybe not cutting back on his hedonistic lifestyle, maybe not even thinking about diet but at the very least trying to find small, lightweight tents or something. Guess what I saw on facebook today? Apparently, Simon now likes the website 'Clubbing In Zielona Gora'.

THINGS YOU SHOULDN'T DO WHILE CYCLING
(Number one in a series of probably one)

Get caught behind the binmen. Particularly in 35 degree heat. It was only half a mile but the stench!

AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 BLOG POSTS

Well, not 80, this is my 28th entry, but I can now add Belgium and Cyprus to the list of nations my blog has been read from. To the Belgian, merci de votre visite, revenez bientôt!* As for the Cypriot, assuming it's not Jason, Ελπίζω να σας άρεσε το blog, σας βλέπω στη Σπάρτη!** If it was Jason then Υπάρχουν περισσότερες πιθανότητες να μου πάρει τη Σπάρτη από ό, τι των γλάρων πάρει προωθούνται. And you can translate that yourself!





*Thanks for visiting, come back again soon!
**I hope you enjoyed the blog, see you in Sparta!

Eat Yourself Fitter

First of all, after Tuesday I was literally swamped with a request for the article about middle-aged men riding bicycles so here it is: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1301626/Mid-life-crisis-Middle-aged-men-buying-BIKES-sportscars.html I find it hard to believe anyone is really interested whether Billy Zane rides a bike or not so I can only assume someone wants to check if I am making it up.

Anyway, on to today's musings. In order to increase my endurance I've been thinking about diet, energy food and healthy eating so yesterday I decided to scoff four Mars bars and see if I felt fitter and stronger. While gorging myself embarking upon this serious piece of research I discovered something remarkable. Mars bars in Italy taste far better than in England. The chocolate was considerably richer and more flavoursome and this is apparently due to food regulation. The UK is far more lax on things like this than the rest of Europe and as a result the chocolate is nowhere near as tasty. If a UK Mars bar were to be sold in Italy its limited cocoa content and high sugar levels mean it would have to be classified as "jam" and in Belgium, where they take their chocolate seriously, it could only be marketed as "building material".

Having eaten my health food, and after a month of cycling, surely I must be fitter and capable of far more, so why does it only occasionally feel like this? I still feel worn out after the first two hundred metres yet I can now tackle really steep hills. (Mountains really, but modesty prevents me from saying so outside brackets). On Monday I think I'll see just how far I can go. As a one off I think I'll go for 50km.

Setting The Trend

I noticed something interesting today while I was perusing the Daily Mail website. (Note to Gosia: Most people look at websites. Some people read websites. I peruse websites and that's what makes me such an outstanding English teacher.) Anyway, back to the Daily Mail. In the fine tradition of lazy, half-baked journalism they seem to have stumbled upon my blog and turned it into a full length feature. In today's paper it states that the 21st century male seeking to recapture his youth no longer buys a Porsche or has an affair with his secretary. According to the Mail a sure sign of a mid-life crisis is when a middle-aged man takes up cycling. If you read the story you will see that where I lead the likes of Guy Richie and Billy Zane follw.

Meanwhile, my Twitter campaign for celebrity backing has ground to an unspectacular halt for two reasons. Firstly, having only a limited time left in Italy I refuse to waste it begging the likes of Eamonn Holmes and Andi Peters to give me a tweet. Secondly, celebs only seem interested in backing 'trendy' charities. I've lost count of the times they mention AIDS, Africa or animals so I'm backing off until I have time to photoshop a squaddie holding a cute, HIV positive baby meercat.

Now pass the sambuca!

Cycling Off Into The Sunset

I sat down this morning to report on another weeks efforts and when I totted up the distance I was horrified to find that it was only 87km, less than last week. Well call me an obstinate, bull-headed, stubborn old fool but we can't have that, so I broke my Sunday rule. However, my poorly legs and lie-in meant I couldn't make up 40km this morning so I ended up doing an hour this morning and then snatching back the last missing miles as the sun went down. This week, 127km, substantial pain and a brief moment of self-doubt. I remember the last time that happened back in 1998.

Next week could be interrupted by the long road trip home but I haven't yet decided whether to go or to wait for the following week. If my legs start aching again I could decide the car is mightier than the bike. If not I'll be aiming to beat 130km. At the moment I've done about 400km in 4 weeks which means at my current level of fitness I could do my trip in just over a year. God, I've got a big mouth!

Lazy Days

As you probably guessed, I didn't actually do 50km on Wednesday. I opted to have a day off, managing to convince myself that the football on Tuesday night was sufficient to cover my laziness. It was a tough call but I settled on inactivity after agonizing over the decision for an Italian second. What's that? You don't know what an Italian second is? It's the time between the light changing to green and the second car in line blasting his horn.

Back to the bike. I fully intended to resume on Thursday but I have to admit that this heartfelt desire was curtailed by a further string of injuries. First I somehow sliced a chunk off the top of my thumb while opening a rather vicious cardboard box, and then later I slammed my leg into a rock full of sea urchins while swimming. I don't know how I do these things but Thursday was another rest day.

I eventually got back in the saddle this morning and managed a gentle 11k. Let's hope I'm still alive to improve on that tomorrow.

Broken

Well I suppose it was only ever going to end in tears. 30km on Monday was hard work, 30km yesterday really hurt and an hour and a half of 5-a-side football last night has finished me off. With the terrifying growth of certain thigh muscles plus the tight hamstrings I thought a game of football would give me a chance to exercise the rest of my body. I was right, but only if you replace the word 'exercise' with 'seriously damage'.

I think I've managed to hide the full extent of the problem, mainly because I'm limping equally in both legs. Both my ankles have fused, my right calf is tighter than Rod Stewart and I've got no skin left on my left knee. My hamstrings are trying to figure out a way to claim asylum in someone else's legs and my groin muscles refuse to let me walk in anything other than a Charlie Chaplin shuffle. Apart from that I'm fine as long as I don't try to either stand up or sit down.

My dad says it's because I'm getting old but that's rubbish. I am old. What I'm getting is older. Anyway, all I have to do now is decide how far to go today. Is 50km too far, do you think?

An Over-Confident Dinosaur

A nice relaxing Sunday with no bike saw me wake up this morning refreshed, relaxed and raring to go. Last week I did 20km a day so I had to decide how far to go this week. 22km? 24? 25? Of course not. Being a grade one prat I decided to go for 30km a day.

I can tell you that I was regretting my bravado after about 200 metres. I know I wrote last week about cycling into the wind, but I think it needs to be mentioned again. The wind was so strong that I needed to work the gears EVEN WHEN I WAS CYCLING DOWNHILL!! For God's sake, if it's hard work cycling downhill then something is seriously wrong!

Another slightly disturbing side effect I have noticed is muscle development. I'd like to take you back to your childhood. Remember the Asterix books? In the Twelve Tasks Of Asterix one of the tasks is to throw a javelin further than Versus the Persian, olympic javelin champion. Versus has a skinny little left arm and a massively over-developed right arm. Well the same thing is happening to me. I've noticed that my thighs are starting to expand. All the football I've played over the years means they were already generous but now they are starting to look bizzare. With my tree trunk legs, overhanging belly and scrawny arms I look like a minature T-Rex on a bike. If my jaw were slightly more elongated then my path every morning would be cleared by hordes of screaming civilians.

I think I might need to work on my upper body strength when I get home.

Further and Further

Hooray! Another week gone. This time I did about 125km so slowly slowly I'm getting better. Surprisingly, I'm also feeling fitter despite the holiday food and wine. I'll be going home in a couple of weeks so by the end of August I should be über-fit. Will it be worth it in the long run? Only time will tell.

Another day, another mission for Google translate. Today I need to say "Ziyaret ettiğiniz için teşekkürler, daha sonra tekrar gelir*". Yes, I had a visitor from Turkey this morning. Amazing how people end up reading this stuff. Turkey is another country I'd like to visit but, like Russia, I think it is just slightly too far out of our way.

Meanwhile, anyone who wants to witness first hand the torture we are going to put ourselves through should take a look at http://www.soscycle.com/index.html. Four intrepid cyclists who are looking for a support team as they tackle a similar ride to Austria. (Although when I say similar I actually mean much weedier. They are girly girls whereas we, of course, are manly men) Good luck to them as they attempt 700 miles in 10 days.

We will also probably be looking for a support team so anyone who is free next July and August who fancies driving a long, long way, let us know.



*Thanks for visiting, come back again soon.

Overskyet med sjanse for regn i kveld*

You learn something new every day, or so the saying goes, and guess what I learned today? It's really hard work cycling into even a modest headwind. Where I've been cycling every morning the prevailing wind is north to south but this morning it had changed and the difference was amazing. I'd always assumed the return journey was all downhill but it turns out I've been huffed and I've been puffed all the way home.

On my practice runs this is ultimately of little importance because it's a case of 10km one way then turn round and come back. If the wind isn't following me out it will be back. The real thing, however, is a one-way trip so I want a following wind all the way. I've been searching for a map of European wind patterns but now it looks as though I will need to learn enough Norwegian to understand their weather forecasts.







*Overcast with a chance of rain this evening

Russians And Razors

Russians first, Добро пожаловать на мой блог, я надеюсь, вам понравится читать*, because believe it or not someone from Moscow wandered in to read this yesterday. I don't know how or why that happened but great that it did. I'm still trying to work out a way to include Russia in our grand tour but I don't think that will be possible. Maybe I'll save that for when I hit 50.

Training every day is slowly but surely turning me into an elite athlete, and like all elite athletes I am thinking in fractions of seconds. The smallest of details can make a huge difference. To this end I decided to have a haircut in order to improve my performance. There was a slight ethical dilemma to consider first. As a strict amateur I abhor and shun all aspects of professionalism, from dieticians to personal trainers to sports psychologists. Because of this I could not bring myself to go to a barber so I asked my dad to do it. Grade four all over with just a few tufts and clumps of random length as a nod to contemporary fashion. It felt good to have the wind whistling through my head and I have to report that my time also improved as I strove to return home quickly to avoid the mocking laughter and howls of derision from the general public.

Maybe it's time to look for a cycling helmet.


*Welcome to my blog, I hope you enjoy reading it.

There's Nutters Everywhere

Searching around the internet to see if there are any other foolish cyclists I'm amazed to find hundreds. London to Brighton, London to Paris, Land's End to John O'Groat's, it seems there has been a positive outbreak of charity cycling. I'm pleased to report that there are (as far as I have discovered) none as foolish as us. Most do a few hundred miles at most and none are attempting to tackle an entire continent. Only we have the monumental stupidity courage required! Disappointingly though, even the Liverpool to Everton cyclists have more followers and twitter friends than us, so start telling your friends to get their bottoms into gear and start following our blog. Do it anonymously if need be, but do it.

I'm up to 20km a day now and it takes bloody ages. An hour every morning pedalling away, I thought it would be great to have plenty of time to be alone with my thoughts but now I think I don't have as many thoughts as I thought. By the time I've gone 3km I'm already thinking of grammar and that's never a good sign. I've also been wondering why there are so many roads that go uphill and so few downhill. Surely that's physically impossible? Tomorrow I think I'll take a book.

Another annoying thing. I'm actually putting on weight at the same rate that I always do when I'm on holiday. I think I'll start believing the fat person myth that muscle weighs more than fat. Also, I've got a slow metabolism and the reason I always come back from holiday 2 stones heavier is glandular.

Right, I'm off for more cake. Have a nice day.

Week Two Over

The end of week two so this is the report of my Herculean efforts. In total last week I cycled 96km which, added to the 48km covered the previous week, means I have now covered the distance that will be required on the first day of our epic quest. Daunted? Not 'arf!

What else this week? I've joined Twitter to try and raise our profile a little, but to no discernable success. It seems that like the evil Schofield (sounds awfully like Blofeld, doesn't it? Could it be that simple?) most celebs are using Twitter simply to inform the world what they had for breakfast rather than spreading news of my most noble undertaking. How long until I name and shame these shallow fashionistas? Could be as soon as next week.

Meanwhile, huge congratulations to Hilary_W who I came across on Twitter. Like me, she had a brilliant idea to raise money for charity, in her case Marie Curie. However, while my idea was to haul my aching bum halfway across the world on a bike, hers was a 36 hour Twitterthon. I really should think things through more. I bet she raised more than I will too! Anyway, well done Hilary. Now it's time to enjoy my day off.

Sod's Law And Big Hills

If you're talking in general, then I'm a pretty lucky person. Beautiful wife, two wonderful kids, a nice big nearly house, a job I enjoy that only takes 20 hours a week. In general I've got very little to complain about.

Specifically, however, life's a bitch. Take driving for example. Who, when driving through a Polish forest in the dead of night on an unlit road and in an unfamiliar car, gets a puncture? Not me. I get three punctures. Who else do you know who has filled up their diesel with petrol this year? Who would take a seven mile short cut in a furniture van only to find a low bridge at the other end? So why on earth I imagined cycling should be any different I don't know.

Going uphill this morning I noticed an interesting attachment on the underside of the handlebars. It's for hardcore cyclists to test themselves. If you are travelling on the flat and you want to make it more punishing you click this device up a level. Needless to say, I had it set on 'Everest'. This means that every single yard has been twice as hard as it should have been and at times I've been technically defying gravity.

On the other hand, once I'd stamped this evil contraption into a thousand small pieces it was a much easier ride. I almost enjoyed it for a few minutes and started wondering briefly about where I should cycle when I get home. Then I remembered where I live.

It's a town in Poland called Zielona Gora. Gora in Polish means mountain and I live at the top of the mountain. This means that whatever route I take it will always end with a long uphill slog.

I need my nice big nearly house to be finished. It's on a fairly flat piece of land and while that wasn't a factor at the time it's the number one benefit now. I hope we'll be in there by October but September now looks like a definite up and down month for me.

Separated by a common language

Today and yesterday I've upped the distance to 16km and this includes a long 3km uphill stretch. Doing this today I wondered for the first time whether this really is possible. There's little else for it, I am going to have to plan a route without mountains. Perhaps we can just go back and forth across Holland 20 times.

Looking at my stat counter widget I can see that in America I have readers from Conneticut, California, New York, South Carolina and West Virginia. You must all be confused. Who is Phillip Schofield? Jeremy Clarkson? Fearne Cotton? Richard Madeley? In fact, apart from Homer Simpson and Brad Pitt you must be wondering who the hell I'm talking about.

It's very hard to explain who they are or to compare them to any US celebrities because they are so quintessentially English. Honestly, even if the Queen and Churchill had had a secret lovechild could he have been more English than Richard Madeley? I don't think so. The best advice I can give you is to look them up. No matter what you read, it's probably true. Start with Richard Madeley on Extras. http://il.youtube.com/watch?v=9BNeqqSZ3sA (also shows a short clip of Schofield). The beauty of living in the UK is that we get to see this kind of thing EVERY DAY!!

Phillip Schofield - Is he an evil genius?

I didn't cycle today, I'm having a rest day as I said I would. That doesn't mean that my mind was at rest though and as usual I was thinking of ways to publicise the blog.

My sister suggested Twitter as a good way to do this. Now I'm a bit of a Luddite and I don't even have a mobile phone so the world of Twitter is a bit of a mystery to me. Apparently, I need to 'tweet' someone with lots of followers and then hope they 're-tweet'.

According to my sister there are several UK celebrities with sizeable followings. Stephen Fry, Fearne Cotton and Sarah Brown all have considerable influence in the tweeting fraternity. The daddy of them all though, the undisputed king of the Twitterati, is Phillip Schofield.

Now I have to ask myself why he wants such power. He's come a long way since Gordon the Gopher and sharing a sofa with Holly Willoughby would be enough for most men but Phillip wants more. Respect, influence, connections.

What is he going to do with his Twitter-power? I've been racking my brain for examples of powerful men who have used their position to benefit the world and there aren't many. For every Ghandi there's a hundred Stalins.

The upshot of all this is that I've sent him a tweet asking him to use his power to help me. We'll find out today if he's a genuine philanthropist who desires only to improve people's lives, or a power-crazed tyrant with plans to plunge Eastern Europe back under the yoke of communist repression. Your call Phil.

Scenery and statistics

That's the first week over, I'm not going to do it on Sunday, at least not while I'm on holiday. Let's look at what I've done in the last week.

I've done about 50km over six days which is not much really considering that the plan is to do 120km a day. On the plus side, most of it has been in 30+ degree heat which we shouldn't encounter until at least the fourth week.

Just in case anyone is feeling sorry for me, let me share with you where I've been cycling. On googlemaps look up "lungomare cristoforo colombo alliste" and check the street view. It almost makes it worth the effort.

Still no word from Clarkson. Perhaps I should have contacted James May, apart from Top Gear the only other offers he gets is stuff like building that ridiculous Lego house.

Anyhow, I'll leave you there. I'm going to enjoy an extra glass of red tonight safe in the knowledge that I won't need to be on a bike at 7.30 am.

Parental guidance

I have to admit that when you start a new blog with the basic aim of quickly attracting a large number of followers in order to impress potential commercial sponsors, going several days without an entry is not the smartest move. I do have a reasonable excuse though and I'm sure it's one that will give any mums a wry smile of satisfaction.

So as I said, last week I drove 2200km and that's because I'm on holiday. In my ineffible wisdom I left my wife behind and brought the children with me. I mean, how hard can it be? And that's why you've not heard from me for days.

On the cycling front, the route I took for the first couple of days was 3.78km so I did three circuits to make sure I was doing 10km. Now 3.78km is a fairly precise measurement so when my Dad told me that's what it was I believed him. Yesterday I measured it. Which means I'm now doing five circuits for my 10km. So I guess what I've learnt is that parenting is something that you never stop making up as you go along.

On top of it all, my bum aches. I mean really aches. If anyone can invent a comfy sadle, I tell you there's a fortune to be made. Must go, the sad bit on the Black Beauty DVD is approaching.

Ouch!

Everything hurts. Am typing this with nose. Will write more in October.

Trepidation

So today I promise I'm going to ride a bike. Properly. Not just down to the shop. You can expect a second installment some time today reporting how much fitter I feel.

I don't want to but I'm going to do 10km today, a nice gentle start and by the time we get to the end of August I want to be up to 25km a day. The only problem is that it's hot here, 35-40 degrees most afternoons and even in the early morning and late evening it's usually 25+. Is that a good enough excuse to not start yet?

Also, having three glasses of wine at lunch yesterday plus three beers while watching the world cup last night was not the best idea. Giving up cigarettes was no problem but I'm not giving up beer no matter how much good it would do me.

No word from Simon for a while, I hope his wife hasn't killed him.

Knackered

Yesterday I drove 2200km and it was tiring. I hope that counts as training. Meanwhile I rode about 500metres by bike today. The good news is there was no pain. The bad news is that probably means no gain. The real training starts tomorrow, I'm aiming for 10km tomorrow morning.

Word is spreading

Lots of good news today. Apparently people like my random wittering and keep coming back to read it, and also people are now starting to visit who I have not spammed or contacted in any way. Yes Shelley, I mean you! My wonderful little counter shows that for a remarkable second day in succession the number of visitors has actually increased. God I love pointless little gizmos.

I've also had another pledge today which mean we have now reached three figures! Yes, we now have a grand total of £139.00 promised and all we have to do to collect this princely sum is half kill ourselves by dragging our aching, middle-aged bodies across Europe. A fair bargain I would say, if I was mad. We need more than that and to get more than that we need publicity and to get publicity we need you. So go to that little button at the top right that says "Follow" and click on it. Yes, do it now.

That's Google's advice anyway and grammatically awful advice it is too. They say that I should ask my visitors to become a follower. Sounds OK, doesn't it? Except that visitors is plural but the use of the indefinite article "a" before follower indicates singular. So what are Google suggesting? Do they want my visitors to merge into a single entity, a multi headed, blog reading monster? It's possible I suppose. Oh, for those of you who don't know already, I teach English grammar.

So now you are following, let me tell you what made me feel old today. Howard Webb. Howard Webb will be the referee for the World Cup Final on Sunday. So how does that make me feel old? I'll explain. In the last final every single player, for the first time, was younger than me. However, one of them was just one day younger so that wasn't too bad. In my heart I knew that all that separated me from them was a little fitness and a bucket load of talent. This time around though, even the bloody referee is younger than me. Although I hold out a glimmer of hope for 2014, I will soon have to face up to the fact that it is increasingly unlikely I will ever take to the pitch in a world cup final. At least, not without police and stewards chasing me.

And now my tongue is weary, I will bid you farewell.

A Plea For Support

So yesterday I finally plugged the blog on facebook and nobody, least of all me, will fail to be astounded by the result. By the end of the day the blog was literally inundated with a new follower, a tremendous achievement I feel. We have also started a new facebook group called 'Oh my God, I can't believe Gino and Simon are going to cycle all that way' and at the time of writing we have ten members. All I can say is slow down guys, we're going to break the interweb!

I've also added a nifty counter which tells me how many people are looking at the blog and where they come from. On top of the obvious hits from England, Italy and Poland we have also been visited from New York, California and Denmark. How did that happen? Leave a comment guys, how did you get here? Was it a wrong turn on the information super highway? I can also see how many people visit every day and at the moment the numbers are rising daily, although I wouldn't call it a trend because I only added the application yesterday.

Right, what's next? Let's talk about Clarkson. After doing a bit of stalking on Google I think I've come up with his home address so a letter is on the way begging him to visit the blog and optimistically challenging him to a race from Sweden to Finland. Come on Jezza, don't be scared!

If it works I've got a whole list of celebrities I'd like to see falling off a bike. If you can add to it, fantastic. Just post a comment at the bottom beginning "The celebrity I'd most like to see fall off a bike is ............." The best suggestion wins an old pen. My list at the moment comprises Graham Norton, Fearne Cotton, Pierluigi Collina, Boris Johnson and Marshall Lancaster. I've actually found a picture of Fearne falling off a bike but for the rest of them I'm afraid it's just headshots of their probable reaction when they get the invite.

On the sponsorship front I have another doubter who is so confident we won't be able to do it that he's pledged £30 for completion. That makes a total of £84.50 in the proverbial bag. It's a start and as they say mighty oaks from little acorns grow. At last, after a quarter of a century, my old high school motto has become relevant.

I've also decide to put off the start of training until Monday given that on Saturday and Sunday I will be driving across Europe. Yes, you can drive across Europe in two days but muggins here has to see how long it will take with pedal power. I hope you're all amused because I'm regretting opening my big mouth in the first place. And on that bombshell, it's time to say goodnight.

Simon The Brave

So at last Simon has finally told his better half about his coming act of desertion next summer. The pub was a frosty place to be last night and it wasn't helped by Richard constantly laughing about bandits attacking us. I've decided to have a false bank statement printed showing a balance of just under £1,000,000 and Richie's address at the top. That should help send any bandits in the right direction.

Yesterday saw the start of the route planning. We are aiming at around 120km per day but there are huge swathes of Europe without even a small village within 120km, let alone a McDonalds. Could be a problem if we need to catch our own food. At the moment we are only fast enough to catch worms and plants, although I'm not sure about the worms. I wonder how many Pot Noodles we can carry?

Another problem could be the mountains. (Could be! Ha!) How often have I mocked those fools who spend a whole day cycling up a mountain when God gave us perfectly good cars. If anyone knows of any recently invented, small, nearly invisible engines which fit nicely on bikes can you please send us some. If not, we may be in trouble. I also found out that the distance we are covering is equivalent to one and a half times the Tour De France, or if you're American slightly more than Seattle to Miami. It's getting worrying.

On the plus side, my annoying habit of prevaricating by clicking links means I now know how fjords are formed and the geographical difference between a fjord, a channel and a lagoon. It might help while away the long, pointless uphill slogs to ponder the mighty power of Mother Nature and the patient way she designed this remarkable planet. Although it's more likely I'll be thinking 'God, my bum hurts'.

Anyhow, now that Simon The Brave has come clean I can at last tell the world via Facebook what we are going to do. I expect from my meagre friends list at least another 2 followers. Remember, by pandering to our insane whim you not only help souls less fortunate than yourself, you also get to inflict incredible physical suffering upon me. That should ensure at least Pete joins.

Permission Given - Time To Prepare

Well the most difficult hurdle has been surmounted. More daunting than the fitness regime, more time-consuming than begging companies for supplies and support, more embarrassing than asking friends to dig deep; I had to break the news to my wife Renata that I was going to be leaving her and the children for an eight week slog across Europe. The way she agreed so quickly was quite disconcerting. However, the fact that she doesn't mind means the journey will go ahead and the fitness work will start at the end of this week. If I can still move my fingers next Saturday night I'll tell you all how much it is hurting.

Jimmy Carr's little plan didn't work by the way. Sport Relief have replied and lots of useful information from them and Help For Heroes means we can start the begging letters soon. Big thanks to Becca at Help For Heroes for her input. If you have a company which provides flights to Norway, bicycles in Tromso or ferries across the Baltic Sea you can expect to hear from us shortly. If you don't have a company like this can you please form one and send us the details. As to the possibilites of fraud, they are actually far greater than anticipated. Apparently all we need to do is make it clear that not every single penny raised will go to charity and X amount will be spent on administration and expenses. The suggestion offered was 20% which, should we hit our target, gives us an awesome £10,000 to spend on beer.

In all seriousness we have no idea what our expenses will be. If we can get sufficient freebies from companies then they should be minimal, perhaps as little as 1%. If we can offer 33% to each of the three charities that would be fantastic. Even if we get nothing in the way of support from businesses I can't see our expenses being much more than 6-7% of the total which still gives 31% to each charity, or over £46,000.

Which brings me on to Simon's charity. I knew it began with a 'C'. It's called 'Concern' and you can find out more about them at  http://www.concern.net/. Hopefully their website will have pictures of wounded kittens or something to melt your heart and make you give us money. On the giving money front, I am proud to report that we have already had our first pledge, despite having done nothing more strenuous than start a blog and libel Jimmy Carr. We have a firm promise of 1p per kilometre (a total of £54.50) from a misguided fool generous supporter. Only another £9.99 per kilometre to raise. Many, many thanks Chris, just remember you are the first to have stumped up and so have played a tremendous part in our endevour by getting the ball rolling, we really appreciate it.

No news yet from Top Gear. Perhaps I should send them an email instead of just hoping they will read this blog.

Jimmy Carr Foiled

Suffice to say his evil plan was thwarted and Sport Relief duly replied. More about that, the amount we shall be skimming off the top and at last a mention of Simon's charity tomorrow.

Officially sanctioned lunacy

Today one of the charities we contacted has agreed that they have no objection to us having heart attacks in a good cause. We are officially registered as raising money for "Help For Heroes", so some of the money raised will be going to them. Who knows, if I can't remember Simon's charity and Sport Relief can't be bothered to reply then perhaps Heroes will get it all.

I wonder if Sport Relief still exists? After all, they only do stuff every two years so perhaps nobody is checking their emails. I know if somebody sent me an email saying they want to raise 50K and then give it to me I could probably muster a reply. I expect Jimmy Carr heard about us and got a little upset because he only managed a pathetic few miles after joining the Sport Relief John O'Groats to Land's End bike ride just before it finished.

He's probably got one of his celeb mates like Derren Brown to hack into the Sport Relief email account and delete our offer. What a sad, bitter man. On the other hand, perhaps their office is only staffed part time and nobody's read it yet. In which case hats off to plucky comic Jimmy Carr for his inspiring and noble example I say.

I've also started to wonder today about whether I can persuade various celebrities to join us for a few miles (or a few metres in the case of unfit, unfunny email thief Carr). I wouldn't want to aim too low but am I being optimistic to think that Brad Pitt may head over from California in order to cycle from Narvik to the Vindelfjallens nature reserve with two total strangers? Perhaps I should think more in terms of Jeremy Kyle.

In all seriousness, one of the things I really do want to do is to get in touch with Top Gear and see if Clarkson et. al. will race us part of the way.I'm thinking that we should both start at Umea in Sweden then while we get the three hour ferry across the Gulf of Bothnia and cycle to Seinajoki in Finland they drive the long way round, a total of 850km.


To be perfectly honest, it would be worth every single one of the 5450 kilometres just for the pleasure of winning a Top Gear challenge. Of course, if we lost I'd smack Hammond, nick the Maserati and let him cycle home. So be warned hamster-boy, you need to let us win.

Raising money

N.B. This is largely supposed to be a humerous blog which you will hopefully enjoy reading, and as such I will often refer to stealing all the money. However, rest assured every penny will be meticulously accounted for according to the guidelines of whichever charity we decide to support and accounts will be available for inspection by whoever inspects fund raising accounts.

After an in-depth discussion with Simon about the myriad possibilities of sponsorship, the feasibility of certain targets, pounds per kilometre and various deserving charities, I have plucked a random figure out of the air and set it as my target. We're going for just under £10 per kilometre which gives us a target of £50,000 to raise for charity. Obviously we'll siphon off chunks of that for expenses, after all gold plated touring bikes and Norwegian beer don't come cheap, but I expect the charities of our choice will have just enough left over to send you a cheap biro by post. Just try and open the letter when they do and don't be one of those tight sods who push the pen out, keep it and throw the letter away unopened.

So, let's talk charity. Now, with such an ambitious target we will obviously need some high profile charity or something with cute little puppies on their literature. Any suggestions gratefully received, I hope you, my as yet non-existent blog followers, may have some ideas. At the moment there are three charities which fit the bill of not only being voracious publicity junkies but also actually being worthwhile causes. The first is "Help For Heroes", which provides rehabilitation, support and practical care for wounded servicemen. Secondly we thought of "Sport Relief" which is rather obvious because we are doing a sport and when we finish it will be a relief. The problem with them is that all their publicity is taken up by Christine bloody Bleakley and chubby, channel swimming comedians. The third charity I've forgotten because it was Simon's choice and frankly this is my mid-life crisis, he's just coming along for the ride. Of course we'll bung them a few quid if it keeps him happy but to be honest if he wants people to know who they are he can start his own blog.

Anyway, once I've finished updating this blog (which at the moment is read only by me and the CIA web-bots) I'll be composing a suitably doe-eyed email to the charities I've chosen, and also the one Simon chose if I remember who they are. Began with a 'C' if that helps. Any ideas, anyone? Hopefully at least one of them won't tell us to forget the whole thing and to preserve our overworked circulatory systems.

OK, enough for today, I need to get back to Jack Dee's autobiography which my sister kindly sent me for my birthday. It's so nice to know that in the miserable, cynical, pessimism stakes I'm only number two.