Thursday 30 October 2014

Going home

It's not easy, this going home business.  For 14 years I had a regular journey, Clayton Manchester to Eccles and I knew it. I knew many variants, I had favourites, I had routes suitable for different weather conditions, for different times of day, for different whims and fancies.  Now I don't.

I have many many options, and I'm trying to avoid driving to work so I don't learn the cycling routes by repeating a driving commute to work.  The train just doesn't offer the same ability to explore where roads go.  So I'm trying really hard to become happy with my cycle routes, despite the fact I seem to have started trying to learn them and explore while it's a bit wintery and the nights and mornings are dark.

I've ridden in behind a friend twice. I didn't enjoy the A6, although admittedly I couldn't get lost on that route either.  I've meandered home following the bike computer's "Surprise Me" route, and it was rather wonderful and glorious, but it did take two hours.

Today though, I have boldly dared to use cyclestreets, a website thingy specialising in cycling journeys.  You put in your start and end post code and it gives you three routes, the quickest, a balanced and the quietest.  I have to say it works.  It actually works.  It doesn't take you to stupid places unless you chose the quietest route in which case you only have yourself to blame.  The quickest route this morning was free from trauma.  Completely free.

The quietest route, though, this evening involved quite a bit of unlit off road, and even with lights, good lights, if you don't know quite where you are, or where you're going it's a bit unnerving.  I did, however, attract a Welsh guy also commuting who escorted me effectively along rutted muddy winding woodland single track, and all was indeed rather good.

Friday 3 October 2014

Moving Times

I moved house.  Left the old house, which somehow wasn't overladen with memories by the time I left it.  The hoovering put paid to that, it was that thorough.

The new house is, well, not just mine but most definitely not Dave & mine.  It feels kind of big and has an old and solid feel to it, at the same time as feeling bright and spacey.  It's suitably kind of shabby too, with occasional glimpses of quality.  Permanence.  The whole thing feels permanent, it's a thing of its own in space and time, and probably will be long after I've gone. Reassuringly solid.

I realise it has four storeys.  A normal two bedroom house but with a loft conversion and a cellar.  It seems to me that everything which the removal men put in the cellar is destined for the loft which means there are a lot of trips up three sets of stairs.  It properly feels four storey during these early settling in days.

It's helping me to realise an ambition too.  Trying to find a way to not have to drive to work.  I have a train and I have a bike.  Even train journey days count as exercise twice a day, with nearly 4 miles in walking to be done either end of the journey, outwards and return.  I suspect fitness may find me.

There's a firm ground to put my feet on, hopefully I'll get them to stay put sometime for long enough for that to happen.