Amy and Elizabeth organised a surprise day of hanging and cycling to commemorate our memorable past bike holidays to Denmark and the Netherlands. We've been saying weekly for the past seven years how much we'd like to do it again so hats off to them for getting their acts together before me.
I arrived in Histon where Amy lives, more or less on time, with standards of punctuality reduced by last night's frivolities. I was on the croaky side of things and desperately needed coffee and pastries, which were duly supplied. I like to think they chose a cafe called The Geographer, based on our keen interest in travel, not simply due to the fact it's hideously bourgeois.
The day was sunny, warm and delightful. In tribute to the past, Amy brought homemade granola and Elizabeth the heaviest densest fruit cake. We reminisced hilariously over the diary entries we made on the cycling holidays: offending Belgians, preserving modesty in cupboards, fighting off wasps to eat Dutch pancakes and losing games of UNO to the elderly.
My alarm tune at the time (Tinchy Stryder featuring N-Dubz) was highly offensive to them especially when it was snoozed ten times. Being reminded of this led to a burst of listening to it.
The destination of the cycle was past St Ives to a pub called The Cock, which has received accolades for its sausages. It may have also been a vulgar nod to the fact I revealed my sexuality to them in the drizzle in the obscure Dutch town of Ede whilst a repair shop tinkered with my axle.
The cycle to St Ives passes by this tranquil RSPB reserve - one of the places we rested to snaffle granola and chunks of fruit cake.