Hills, Flat Tops and Ridges

Bruce arrives Friday evening and just as we're about to cycle off to the Windmill it's bucketing down so we (Debbie's with us too) Uber over there to meet Pete and Wendy in a fairly empty place well it is only 8.30. It's good to all catch up and soon the first band are on. The line-up says that the bands are "Mice On Mars, Billy Prince Brown, Augusto and more" so assume that these are in reverse order and that this band are "more". It's a guitarist who is joined by another one and they go down quite well with a sort of folky slightly rocky jazzy sound which is all very mid 70s when kids were getting bored of glam and  waiting for punk meanwhile listening to self indulgent noodling. Maybe a little harsh but not in the best of moods having had to take a car instead of cycling. Next up I assume are Augusto but I can't remember them at all so let's skip that one. They may have been sleazy rock and rollish. Jeez my blogging is rusty having had so much time since I saw a band. Billy Prince Brown (possibly him, unless the band I can't remember came after him) is one guy on guitar who delivers an excellent set of a twangy looping feedback driven guitar master class with pretty good vocal thrown in for free. Actually it's all free tonight but you know what I mean. He's great and we're nicely warming up now. Outside someone congratulates me for being fantastic. Nice sentiment but I think he means the  Final band are Mice on Mars who are a three piece treating us to a range of styles but always based on good old rock and roll. They are a great way to end the evening even garnering a little mosh pit. Only slightly tempered by the kid behind us who said You must be really proud of them mistaking us for their parents. Cheeky little git. A taxi home and so to bed...


And up bright and early for our bike ride. Bruce and I aren't going to make the assigned time of 11 at Epsom station and as Pete has his phone turned to flight mode (I didn't bother asking why) he spends an hour in Costa waiting for us. Our first part is off road across the race course and just at the very end my bike jolts to a halt in sand and I teeter off into a nettles bush and start writhing around trying to unclip my pinned leg from the damn cleat. A bit of blood, nettle stings, sore calf and thistles in my arm but I'm pretty OK which is more that can be said for the bike. Seemed to misalign the derailleur and I now have 4 gears to play with instead of about 20. Ah well, one is a hill climber so I'm happy. We detour off to Box Hill to admire the expensive bikes, I nearly adjust one mistakenly thinking it's mine, and then speed down to Reigate for a picnic lunch in the town square with the not so hard core drinkers. Then it's coming back towards London up the very steep and rightly named Hilltop Lane (see pic) then across the heath overlooking London. Then a descent to South Coulsdon and hop on a train to London Bridge. There we have a rusty jamming session with Bruce on acoustic giving a nice edge to our usual sound (i.e. in tune and playing the right notes) and after a couple of hours of Bruce wincing him and I cycle back through Burgess Park and home to watch Arsenal's first win of the season on MOTD.


Sunday is wet and after a trek round Tooting Common Bruce persuades me and Debs to go into town. A leisurely damp walk along the north side of the river from Vauxhall Bridge to Tower Bridge then tube back for some critical hair cutting (Bruce on me) and after all that it's time for the Vuelta catch up and bed. 


Bank Holiday Monday sees me and Bruce trying to right the bike before he leaves. Great weekend Bruce - see you in October.

The Noodling Duo (possibly)

Billy Prince Brown (possibly)

Mice on Mars (highly likely)

Bruce elated to make it up Hilltop Lane (definitely)

Pete arrives as Bruce collapses on the cross bar

Bruce and Pete at Farthing Downs with the City and Shard in the background

The detour and double back is Box Hill