Storm Bertie was battering Wales and Ireland, and South West London awoke to heavy rain and blustery winds. The meteorological misery scale had not improved as lunchtime approached and Maggie was convinced the forecast would be accurate and conditions dangerous but we were down to lead the shorter ride from Nonsuch Park and you cannot risk people turning up for a Beginners ride and being disappointed, so we arranged a rendezvous with Anna and Roger (the latter not yet allowed on a bike, so he walked) and got the train to Cheam, cycling from the station there. As the clock made its inevitable progress to two-o-clock we had to leave the sanctuary of La Petite Boulangerie and ride the short distance to Nonsuch Mansion expecting (hoping?) that no-one would be there except, of course, Colin. Colin is always there.
I had my suspicions, though. Helen is a regular sucker for foul weather rides but it was Nigel who had elected for our ride, it turned out. Colin was there but opting to go straight home and then, lo and behold, the ever cheery Helen rolls up. I pointed to the darkening cloud and the steadily increasing wind. I reminded everyone of the forecast. I even hinted at a shortened route (to the cosy cafe a mile away). The punters were steadfast in their demand for value for money, the ride as advertised. So the five of us set off.
Banstead is to the South and these were southerly winds. From Nonsuch Park the ride is almost all uphill. Mostly gently uphill, but uphill nevertheless. At first it was not quite raining but I pulled my beanie hat over my ears and put my head down and rode a short distance ahead of everyone so that I was unable to hear the mutterings and worse from behind me. It was hard work into the wind and just when I got my first real rebellion, with the steep bit ahead of us up to Nork, Nigel came up with an alternative and less steep route, and the punters were happy. Well, slightly less unhappy.
Thus, as the rain restarted in earnest, we had got to Park Life Cafe, which has replaced (and improved upon) Pistachio's.
We probably lingered there a bit too long but the wind was theoretically behind us for the descent past the prisons, and the road had not yet flooded much, the wind blasts from the side roads were enough to wobble us but not to knock us off, and the cars travelling at unnecessary speeds all narrowly missed us, so we got home safely and just before dark.
As we sat over a cup of tea at home, we were glad we had persuaded each other to go and convinced ourselves it had been fun.
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