Well..... that was the ride that never was.
It rained.
As I sheltered from the torrential rain in the cavernous foyer of Dalston Junction station, I stopped myself from bellowing a sonorous RSM's
"ADAM!" as I saw him ride past through the stair rods, for fear of terrifying the gaggle of 14 year old girls clad in shorts shorter than a short thing. And very little else.
With a heavy heart I set out into the monsoon to meet at the Pub on the Park with wet Adam and the others.
I got wet.
Adam was there. Wet.
On my suggestion, we moved to the cover afforded by a railway bridge. Beneath it, it was dry
.
Teeth were sucked. Sky was looked towards. It continued to rain.
Teef was texted, but that elicited no reply.
Frank was a confirmed DNS.
The pub was Still Serving.
So....... whilst we availed ourselves of some fermented grape juice, it continued to rain.
Lots.
Imagine our surprise to find the pub Still Serving (we're talking 01:00 am here) once we'd imbibed our first attitude adjuster.
Goodness! In view of all the rain we thought it'd be rude not to have another. Whilst it continued to rain.
Eventually (they stopped serving) Adam and I parted, heading home north and south respectively. It was still raining.
I zig-zagged through east London and crossed the river courtesy of the Rotherhithe Tunnel (in which there was no rain) which was (unusually) closed to northbound traffic - so 2 lanes southbound. I undertook a number of vehicles as they adhered to the 20mph limit
.
South of the river the rain had stopped.
I took the longer detour home via Creek Road and Greenwich.
The question is what happens now?
It's 02:26.
My body clock is all over the place (I had about 3 hours kip between 18:00 and 21:00 last night)
The rain has stopped.
Now what?
Did I mention that it rained?
