Spring sprung last weekend, and the clocks went forward an hour. I set out on a road ride, the first since the 19th. Most of the outward route was into a headwind, I would be returnig on the same roads, and looked forward to a tailwind. Why then did I have to force my way home into a headwind? It's one of cycling's mysteries.
My chosen destination was Fulking, yes you read that correctly. I can't deny it was the name that brought me to the village, it was also just over 60 miles there and back. The distance I find just about right; long enough to be a challenge, without taking all day.
The collection of houses, one pub and a church are in a valley, a spring was the original reason for the village being established.
Upon arrival I looked for a shop or cafe to buy food and a coffee. The pub was closed and that was it.
The journey to the village was mostly on main roads, they weren't very busy but it was a relief to turn into a quiet lane for the last few miles.
Sunday: Matt and I usually meet to sit at opposite ends of a bench for a chat over a cup of tea.
As you can see, Matt and the tea were missing. A clocks changing miscalculation meant Matt was somewhat out of sync with the rest of the country. I arrived to a text saying he would be very late. It was chilly and I had a busy day ahead so I replied that unfortunately I couldn't wait. I sat alone with my coffee and waffle, bought from the little shop near the green. Then took off for home.