Mere six-headed monsters and huge whirlpools Odysseus had to negotiate in the Mediterranean Sea but we hardier Northern folk had to balance between the freezing cold and the approaching precursor to Storm Isha, thus named because the eye will pass over Sandown Park.
Five souls gathered outside the Pavilion in Beddington Park, with Maggie to wave us off as we settled for Elmers End as a destination. The shortest regular ride, to Flitton's, is hardly worth doing unless we have a real beginner amongst us. The next shortest, Morden Hall Park, is too muddy and too slow for such a cold day, and anyway goes past Ken's house which makes it a less exciting ride for him, so of the next shortest, Elmers End has the warmest cafe with the best coffee and scrumptiousest cakes.
It turned out to be a long enough ride as the temperature was nowhere near as mild as the forecasters had predicted, and what started out as pretty cold got colder as the afternoon drew on, while at the same time the wind was slowly getting up.
Apart from the usual incidences of stupid driving in Croydon, and droves of pedestrians who mobbed across the lights on George Street whether they were green or not (perhaps cyclists can't really complain!), the ride out was as pleasant as could be in the circumstances but as we rounded the cyclist-unfriendly one way system at Elmers End, Branching Out, our destination, looked darkened. Please be open, I pleaded to no-one in particular with four cyclists behind me who had gone far enough against an increasingly bitter headwind. And it was! And Roger's Orange cake with dark chocolate which I so very nearly fell for apparently tasted as good as it looked. But I had the best cheese scone that has ever been baked, and I know a thing or two about cheese scones.
It took some effort to gather up our stuff and go outside again, and we made it (nearly) the most direct way home emerging through the park to the courthouse at Croydon where, as we had on the outward journey, we were forced to spend an inordinate amount of time at various traffic lights; just the job as the temperature is dropping. Never mind, we all felt morally superior for having taken our exercise and, as ever, enjoyed each other's company.
And we had, after all, picked the perfect window between the cold and the impending minor storm (the big one was due on Sunday night; good luck Cheam and Morden!)
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