I hoped that all this cycling was helping me to lose weight. I’d seen a shocking video of myself in a mustard yellow shift dress over black leggings and did not the idea that kindly people had taken to describing me as ‘curvy’.
When we reached the small seaside town I propped the tandem up against the sea wall and we checked into the busy hotel. We could tell that its main business was coach parties from the clear labelling on the bedroom doors. Each room had a different number according to tour company and bus service.
The hotel was swarming with wedding parties and traders out to make money from hotel guests and tourists. Amongst them a man and a woman were approaching people with an offer to take their portraits, then snapping them on their mobile phones for 50p a shot. I also overheard an young Indian woman explain to someone that she and her companion weren’t Indian at all, but Ghanaian.
By the time that TPR went back outside to check on the tandem the tide had come in and swept away our bike! TPR was distraught to find a couple of wheels floating in the water. Then I pointed out that the wheels were green and that I had parked the bike on the car park side of the wall. It was safe after all.
Dreamaticus 