Bloody hilarious

A somewhat delayed anniversary meal out began in hilarious circumstances with me falling off a bike.

I leapt to my feet after a brief roll on the tarmac, adrenalin convincing me nothing was particularly badly damaged. The blood streaming down the back of my right calf and filling my sandal suggested otherwise to Mrs B.

Half a dozen neat little punctures created by the big front cog bled most impressively - and stopped quite quickly too. After getting patched up we opted for other transportation for the rest of the evening.

The assorted other bits of road rash on jutting extremities only add to my conviction that trying to take a picture of my darling wife cycling into town with Mont Blanc soaring in the background while riding a bike myself is not a good plan.

Not at all.