We had a cunning plan. One of our number wanted to see the Cillian Murphy film at the Methodist Church in Carshalton, which started at three. So we devised a route up to and around the Webb Estate, past John Fisher and west to the Telegraph Track, meandering around Carshalton a bit and delivering our cinephile to the church at Carshalton. The ride was calculated to take ninety minutes and the plan was to have a coffee at Spilt Milk and ride for another hour, to Brighton or somewhere.
It was, as usual, cold, and the turnout was below par; Jackie, Ken, Maggie and me. But the ride worked a treat and the timing was well nigh perfect. But Jackie dropped out and went home after she got her hill practice (she had been reading Simon's article in Sou'Wester). And Ken had somewhere to go that evening so he went home from Carshalton. Which left me to my own devices and, not feeling too good, I went home too. We can do Brighton later in the year, in the warm.
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