On yer bike, Lad


Today I got my bike out of the car, pumped up the tires and headed off in search of Floyd Cottage.  We used to rent it fairly regulary but apparently the owners got sick of the beer bottles and brother-in-law Dan's accent.  And how better to get there than along the beach?
Easy answer to that question - not along the beach at high tide with road tires on the bike and a 20 knot head wind blowing.  After multiple encounters with soft spots in the sand I took to the road and / or footpath (on which virtually nobody was walking).  I think it's legal to ride on the footpath and as I was being overtaken by joggers, I don't think I can be accused of being a danger to life and limb.
Eventually, frozen half to death, I located my target and, as nobody was home, shoved a note under the door asking nicely if we could rent the place again.  I'll refrain from posting a picture to preserve their seclusion.
The return trip was far more relaxed as the wind pretty much blew me back.  I noticed that yesterday's shrimp boat had left, either headed for dock or sunk by its heavy load.
That didn't quite take me up to lunchtime but I emptied the fridge between two slices of bread anyway before heading for a tromp on the boardwalk by the local salt marsh.  Last time we went down there I seem to recall having to drive up and down the road until I spotted a car that looked more fragile than mine and that I could nudge aside to make room.  Today I merrily parked straddling the line between two spaces, leaving only about 300 other spaces vacant.  I really enjoyed today's entertainment provided by the fishing guide filleting some fish with the help of a flock of hungry pelicans.  Lousy photo - sorry.
Right then - I am now bloody freezing so what else to do but head for home to warm up.  But the deck looked inviting so I carted my box of robotic junk out there to sort out.  Brilliant idea is sorting out freezing lumps of steel with the proverbial 50 knot northerly blowing so back indoors and a shrimp curry with far more shrimp than curry.
The day finished with the hatches battened and the realisation that I really haven't got a clue which TV channel shows what (though one of them shows the Lawrence Welk show and the rest show programs about being stupid or ads for sufferers from some disease that can be cured only by something that makes you die of something else).  Finally found BBC America which was having a David Attenborough marathon.  And so to bed.

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