The Easternmost Point!

Well, ten days in and as you can see I - or at least my shadow - have made it to the easternmost point of the British mainland. Hurrah for things like that. So... here's how the last few days panned out.

Day 8's ride started at the Town Hall in High Wycombe, where Lloydy Junior and I were joined by Human Sat Nav, Chris:
His polka-dot 'King of the Hills' jersey should have been a warning that this wasn't going to be the easiest of rides... but the fact that Chris has a robo-bike with his own home-made sat-nav holder bolted to the front of it...

... meant that at least the mileage was lower than I was expecting. When I first looked at it the route from High Wycombe to Cambridge came in at 88 miles... one of the longest on the whole trip. But Chris had programmed his sat nav well and had plotted a route that came in at around 70 miles. Here's the way we went...

And here's how uppity-downity it was... you can see where we hit the fens:


I'm not sure where Chris or LLJnr disappeared to here...

This is what they looked like:


Here's Chris and I just before we crossed into the city of Cambridge:
And here we are with LLJnr at the day's finishing line, the Corn Exchange:


I was back there at the start of Day 9 to meet my next Human Sat Nav, Emma:

Her excellent navigating meant we went from Cambridge to Ipswich without having to deal with the horrible main roads:





As you'd expect in that part of the world there wasn't much uppity-downity in this 60 mile ride:

And here we are at the end of the ride, outside the Regent Theatre:


I had arranged a Human Sat Nav for Day 10 but while they replied to some e-mails a while ago, they haven't replied to any of my recent text messages or voice-mails... so I was getting worried that I was going to have to make the ride from Ipswich to Lowestoft alone. This was particularly worrying as my actual sat nav has been going haywire... for example, here's what it thinks I did in the middle of the ride to Cambridge:
You can see why I didn't want to trust the machine to guide me and I definitely didn't want to trust myself because I knew I'd only end up taking the A12 and that would be horrible. Luckily for me the theatre was full so I had 1300 people in front of me and I figured there had to be at least one cyclist with the right local knowledge in amongst them.

There was. His name's Dave. Here he is outside the Regent at the start of Day 10:

If I look happy, it's partly because I was relieved to have found someone as capable as Dave but also because I'd had a very good breakfast. This is why I like B&Bs and guesthouses more than hotels. You don't get a bowl of fruit like this - with figs picked from the garden - at many hotels do you?
We took a great route through the Suffolk countryside:
And I think the relatively flat landscape, a nice tailwind and some improvement in my fitness meant we averaged around 15.5mph for the 50 mile ride:



I've been getting a few messages from people on Twitter asking me what time I'm going to arrive at places and what route I'm taking and so on. The answer is always that I don't know. I'm letting my Human Sat Navs choose the routes and I really can't predict how long any given ride is going to take - especially when I don't know where we're going. But Gemma here saw that I'd mentioned we were leaving Ipswich at around 10.30 and took a good guess as to when we'd arrive at the easternmost point - Lowestoft Ness - so Dave and I actually had a welcoming party to greet us:

It also means there was someone there who was happy to take on the role of official photographer... so big thanks to Gemma for taking this picture of Dave and I at the finishing line:


So there we have it... the first coast to coast is complete... I've gone from Lizard Point:

to Lowestoft Ness...

... and now I start the long haul up to Ardnamurchan...

... and then Dunnet Head...


I'm looking forward to it...

The Ongoing Cycle-Cam Experiment

When the camera was mounted on the handlebars there was way too much vibration. That's why I then tried mounting it on my helmet. That got rid of a lot of the vibration because the body automatically damps a lot of that stuff out as you ride. But in order to put a chunk of footage into manageable amounts I have to speed it up and any lateral movement of the head makes that really jerky and uneasy on the eye.

It was easy to edit out small amounts of it when it was just me cycling because I'd be looking straight ahead most of the time. But when I cycled in company - which I will be doing on the tour a lot of the time - I naturally spin round more to chat and to check on people and so on.

So now I've tried mounting it on the front fork. I can't see how it would have any less vibration than anywhere else on the bike itself but somehow the ever-present, spinning front wheel seems to make it feel steadier by remaining constant in relation to the frame of reference. Or something like that.

Anyway... it was a 20 minute ride, the video is just over a minute long and the music is by Grandmaster Gareth.

The Blackberry Crumble Tumble

The video I posted earlier today was shot on Saturday when TDB and I went for a ten mile cycle into Hackney/Walthamstow marshes and back. Lovely day. Nice bike ride. Tested the new helmet cam. All was well.

I'd forgotten how good that patch is for blackberry picking. I reckon we must have passed 20 or more people out there scavenging in the brambles. I picked some last year and they were ace - any fruit you pick yourself in the wild will always taste better than the stuff you pay for, it's the rules. So on Sunday, we decided to return... only this time we brought tupperware.

The camera was still mounted on the helmet and I decided it was more trouble than it was worth to unstrap it so I plugged it in and filmed once more. Here's the video:



I've used the music I used on my first cycling video from a few weeks back when I was trying out the not-quite-up-to-snuff GoPro Hero camera. It's by Misty's Big Adventure who I've mentioned in this parish before now. They're ace.

Anyway... as you can see I took a bit of a fall on the way back. It felt horribly dramatic at the time - I was pretty sure I was going to land on my chin but managed to get my hands out in time to break my fall. My gloves got pretty torn up... which makes me very glad I was wearing them. I was wearing a helmet too although I'm pleased to say it wasn't necessary.

I cycled home slowly, not really able to fully grip the handlebars as the heels of both palms were starting to swell up. Once home I had a cup of hot, sweet tea and put my hands on ice but was aware that I couldn't get the full range of movement out of either thumb. The pain - and the swelling - reminded me of the time I fractured a bone in my toe a few years ago and I was getting worried that I'd done something similar in one, or both, hands.

So I took a trip to my local A&E. I've got nothing but good things to say about the Royal London. They were ace. Polite, caring, charming and quick. If you're going to visit your local A&E I can recommend early Sunday evening. If you can hurt yourself before the drunks come out to play you really shouldn't be waiting long so, y'know, try and do it then. Or not at all obviously. Yeah... not at all is probably best.

Anyway... no bones were broken. Painkillers were administered and the swelling is going down. My biggest worry was that I'd have done something that would make cycling in September impossible. What would happen to the tour then? Tickets have been sold... I'd have to show up. But if the bike-ride that's become a bike-ride-tour was to become just-a-tour before it had even started I think I'd pretty glum about it.

There was nobody else involved. Just a wet iron plate under a bridge that made my wheel slide away from under me.

Still, the blackberry and apple crumble was divine. Normally I'd have it with custard or ice cream. But ibuprofen seemed to be just as good.

Helmet-Cam

The camera I've been experimenting with for cycling videos has a big drawback: the amount it can record in one stretch.

I have no purpose in mind for filming the ride - indeed I've turned down the opportunity to make a documentary about this autumn's tour - but as I've never done anything on that scale before I feel like I ought to film what I can of it. But if I have to stop every hour or so to change a memory card then it's more disruptive than anything else and it would change the experience rather than record it.

So I've upgraded to a new cycling camera - the POV1.5 from VIO - which can, in theory, record for a much longer stretch. The above video is my first test for it.

I've always been quite guarded about my private life in these parts (I figure there's been enough honesty to go round on stage without spooning any more in here) but for what it's worth the girl who cycles ahead of me at times is my girlfriend, the delightful B.

I reckon 3 or 4 minutes is about the limit for these kind of things and it's going to be impossible to get a whole day of riding down to that kind of time without making it impossibly jerky. This is about 60 minutes sped up and condensed and it's quite nauseating as it is. I certainly won't be able to edit videos as I go on the tour so all that's going to happen is I'm going to finish my 1500 miles of cycling and have hundreds of hours of footage backed up somewhere. But, hey, I might think of something for it and it's better to have the option than not.

Breaking The Deadlock

The excellent sports writer, Simon Barnes, recently wrote a piece in which he assessed the modern innovations in our major sports and gave his opinion on their effectiveness.

He looks at limited overs cricket - 65 over games started in the 60s, while Twenty20 was born in 2003 - the tie break in Tennis (born 1970), the introduction of petrol breaks in F1 (1994), the many intricate rule changes made in rugby over the years and in football, the penalty shoot-out (also 1970).

I'm not informed enough about cricket to have an opinion and Formula One leaves me mystified at the best of times - whatever they do to it I can't get past the fact that the man with the best car seems to have something of an advantage. Besides, while I know the drivers are doing something remarkable I don't feel able to perceive their skill as a spectator. I mean, I know how fast they're going but on a TV screen it simply doesn't look that fast. The rules of rugby have changed so much since I was being kicked all over the school playing field that I've given up trying to understand it properly but can still sit and enjoy an international because good rugby is still mightily impressive to watch.

The most interesting assessments to me were those made on tennis and football, not least because they're both rule changes brought in to achieve the same goal: to break a deadlocked game. Here he concludes that the tie-break has been an unqualified success but that the penalty shoot-out has had a negative impact on football. And I think he's right.

While a penalty shoot-out is undeniably exciting it's not football. A tie break is undoubtedly tennis. The presence of a tie-break doesn't encourage players to play for a draw. A penalty shoot out does, if not from the start, then at some point.

Surely there ought to be some other resolution to a drawn football game that's better than the toss of a coin, fairer than a penalty shoot out and that still involves playing football... all of it, rather than just one particular part of it.

Here's my suggestion. I'm probably not the first person to come up with this. I won't be at all surprised if I find dozens of people telling me where hundreds of others have discussed it in the past. If that's the case, my apologies for not having my finger on the pulse. Here goes:

Currently they play a period of extra time and then go to a penalty shoot out. I'd suggest that when a game is drawn at 90 minutes they should play ten minutes of extra time - but that each team should withdraw two players. If it's still drawn after that, they should withdraw two more players each and play another ten minutes. And so on. Ten minutes of 9-a-side, ten minutes of 7-a-side, ten minutes of 5-a-side and if needed, ten minutes of 3-a-side. Rugby Sevens is a more free-scoring game than its grown-up counterpart because there's more room for players with pace to exploit and I would have thought the same would be true for football.

It would reward fitness, make it less of a mindgame and more of a game, maintain the fact that it's played by teams and not individuals and involve a manager making tactical decisions based on his players strengths and weaknesses.

Of course, it doesn't address what happens if, after 40 minutes of extra time and with only 3 players left for each team it's still a draw. So, um, well, then you, er, um... have a penalty shoot out.

Putting Two And Two Together

In a behind-the-scenes stairwell at the BBC I used to see these paint marks on a window ledge and wonder what they were from...

Then one day, in a BBC corridor, I passed this picture in a frame:

It all makes sense now. Obviously.

From London to Brighton to... London.

So... yesterday was the annual British Heart Foundation London to Brighton bike ride. I took part in the event four years ago. That was the first time I'd taken on any kind of distance. I loved it. When someone asked me to join their team of cyclists in the event this year I thought I really ought to do it again... with my tour looming I didn't really have any excuse not to and I figured it would be a good training ride.

At the time I hadn't done any serious training rides and wasn't used to cycling out of London on the open roads. I know a lot of people think that cycling in London is scary but personally I feel pretty safe in that environment. So long a syou look ahead and assume people are going to open their car doors in front of you and so on it can work to your advantage. The average car is travelling at less than 10mph and while they might not like the fact that cyclists are there, there are so many of us out on two wheels that drivers are kind of expecting your presence. It's out of town that scares me more. It's in country lanes that boy racers take bends at 50mph and with no expectation that there might be someone on two wheels ahead of them.

So while I knew that London to Brighton would be a good work out I was also aware that it would be a slightly artificial situation because there are marshalls all along the route and plenty of sections where the roads are closed or the regular traffic is at least separated. So I decided that I would cycle home too. I figured I had to get used to going from town to town without the assistance of several hundred volunteers in high-vis jackets. (Incidentally: I don't think the people who marshall the route get enough of a thankyou from the cyclists. It's a huge event that the BHF organise incredibly well and the volunteers who line the route are amazingly good humoured and supportive. Thanks.)

By the time the ride came round I'd already done a few town-to-town, city-to-city rides and got used to it but training's training and I knew another one couldn't hurt. Or rather it could. But in a helpful way.

My plan was very much to play it by ear. If I felt tired after the ride I'd stay in Brighton and then tackle the return journey the next day. If I felt up for it I'd do it all in one day or, and this seemed to me to be the most likely, I'd do 30 miles of the return journey on the day and then complete the trip on the Monday. As it was I ended up doing it all in one day... I was bushed by the end of it. But pretty damn pleased with the achievement too.

I'm also really pleased with my new Boardman bike. I've changed the saddle and the pedals and got some excellent luggage from Carradice and I reckon the way it was configured yesterday was pretty close to the way it will be on tour. It felt very right. I loved it.

I plugged some of the toys in as well. I set the new bike-cam running as I left Clapham. I know that by the time I had got to Brighton it had stopped recording. Whether it had run out of juice or memory or both I don't know. It doesn't have a preview screen so until I upload stuff I won't know how long it lasted. It' a shame not have caught the whole ride but at the same time, I need things to work in a way that means I can just hit a button and forget about them. If I start obsessing with how-to-record-the-journey or stopping every hour to change a memory card it will change the actual first-person-experience of the journey into something else. Something worse to do... but nicer for other people to look at. Which isn't what it's about, really.

I also had my Garmin Edge 705 on the bike, timing myself and recording the route - and for the return journey, choosing the route. Thanks to the magic of MapMyRide.com, I can show you where I went... here's the London to Brighton ride:


... and here's the journey back:



You can open them full screen and zoom in to see the minute detail of where I went if you like. (I turned it off before I got to my front door - I'm not mad.)

The first third of the ride to Brighton is always very congested. There are loads of bottlenecks in small lanes where you're forced to stand and wait a while or walk but slowly as the ride goes on it thins out a bit and you can get into it properly. Ditchling Beacon is the stiffest test... a steep and long, long hill about 6 miles from the end. The good thing about it is that when you get to the top you've pretty much finished the ride. It's all pretty easy after that.

Four years ago Ditchling Beacon was a pretty disorganised mess. Loads of people end up walking up the hill and they can block the path of those who are still cycling. My main memory is of the really hardcore cyclists screaming at people to walk on the left. I don't think I would have been able to pedal all the way up Ditchling Beacon last time but I didn't get the chance to find out as I ended up losing momentum behind a group of four walkers who covered the whole width of the road. Once off the bike there was no choice but to walk myself.

This time round it seemed far more organised. I don't know if it was just because I'd started earlier or if people have spread the word but the walkers all cleared out of the way and left a channel to the right for the cyclists. I cycled all the way up.

I've always been quietly dismissive of those people who claim to have an exercise-high... but yesterday as I topped the beacon and continued into Brighton I felt properly euphoric. I must have been because on the flat section across the top of Ditchling I got up to 31mph. On the flat I can normally get a little over 20mph if I make an effort... so it must have been down to some kind of adrenaline rush. Better still, on the long descent, even with my fingers stabbing at the brakes I got up over 42mph. I spoke to several people afterwards who'd got over 50mph. It's an exciting part of the ride.

As I came down the hill I looked at the clock and realised it was possible to get in to the finishing line in under 4hrs. I got snarled up with traffic lights coming in to the city centre and then with a large group of riders on the home straight but I made it. Just. 3 hours, 59 minutes and 50 seconds.

I made a bit of a cock up then. I should have gone to have something to eat but instead I hung around waiting for my team to arrive. I knew they were going to be doing the ride at a more leisurely pace and would be stopping en route for refreshments but I stupidly didn't realise that this was my best chance to eat and recuperate. When they did turn up - every one of them equally delighted to have cycled up Ditchling - they then went off for a celebration drink which I didn't do because booze seemed like a bad idea before taking on another long ride. So not only did I start my return journey quite late in the day, I knew I'd be stopping on the ride to get some food that I could have dealt with while I was waiting.

It was hard. Much harder than the ride to Brighton and that's not just because of tiredness. The sat-nav seemed to take me on an odd and circuitous route and there were more uphill sections. Nothing as steep as Ditchling but a damn site more of them. I was getting frustrated with the road surfaces too. A bad road slows you down so much and it left me unsure as to whether it was down to the conditions or me. But then about 40 miles in I suddenly hit a nice new road and found I still had plenty of juice in me and got up over 25mph with ease. Which is kind of when I decided to complete the job and get all the way home.

I took two refreshment breaks on the way back - totalling an hour - and all in the return journey took five and a half hours. Even if I just take into account the actual cycling time it's half an hour slower and that's without having any of the bottlenecks that plagued the first part of the outward journey so it was definitely harder going.

But I did it. And I'm thrilled. Taking into account the journey from mine to Clapham for the start of the official ride I totalled just over 120 miles of riding yesterday. The longest I've done in a day before being 90ish miles.

When I did my three day training ride a wee while back I was aware that I started out being very bad at making myself take on enough fluid. I lost a stone in the first two days as an unhealthy result. I bought a Camelbak backpack to help me to drink more and it was great. I must have got through 5 or 6 litres of water, possibly more... and the result was that I lost only 2 or 3 lbs in the day. Much better.

I don't think there's been any time in my life before this when I could have done these rides in one day. Without wanting to come off all mid-life crisis about it, it's pretty damned satisfying to be fitter at 38 than I was at 34. Or 24 for that matter. How odd. And lovely. And by criminy do I feel it in my knees today.

St Andrew By The Wardrobe

If Gok Wan goes to church, I hope it's here...

Chiro-Bullies

The Simon Singh meeting last night was strangely enjoyable. I say 'strangely' because while it obviously would have been far better if it hadn't been necessary the event was simultaneously informative, funny, heart-warming and energising. When a large crowd turns out for something like that, if nothing else, it confirms that you're not mad for thinking the way you do.

If you're interested there's a decent summary of the evening on the New Humanist website and the New Scientist piece ("there was a sense last night that we are at the start of something important") is good also. I was, inevitably, far and away the least informed of the speakers. Nick Cohen, Dr. Evan Harris MP. and Simon Singh were all fantastic in different ways. This really isn't about one case - Simon just happens to be the unfortunate soul at the centre of this particular whirlwind - there's a far wider issue at work and for freedom of speech to prevail both here and abroad it's obvious that Britain's libel laws need to be changed.

I'm tempted to write up everything I learned last night but it would turn into a 100,000 word dissertation if I'm not careful and there are bound to be far better sources of information out there for things like this. Suffice to say that when an Icelandic bank can bully a Danish newspaper into silence by using English courts something is clearly wrong with our system. Google the phrase 'libel tourism' if you really want to see how bad it is or read this article from the Times for a snapshot of the frankly embarrassing situation we're in.

Anyway... I don't think I expressed myself as clearly as I'd have liked last night and with the benefit of some sleep I thought it would be worth clarifying what I think about the situation in specific and general terms. (That said Jack of Kent remains the best source of information for this case - go and subscribe.)

Here's a thing. A couple of weeks ago I genuinely didn't know that chiropractic was a form of alternative medicine. I just thought it was another word for - or a distinct branch of - physiotherapy. I really did. I mean, they help your bad back by manipulating your bad back don't they? Don't they? If you've read America Unchained you'll know that my first director, Stef, was forced to leave the film because of a bad back. You'll also know that before her health forced her to leave, we were forced to take some not-really desirable detours so that she could visit a succession of chiropractors. Well at the time, I genuinely believed she was seeing what I would call 'proper-doctors.' I'm embarrassed by this gap in my knowledge.

Now I'm not suggesting that alternative therapy doesn't work at all. If it floats your boat that's great. My personal belief is that half an hour of kindness has a greater placebo effect than 7 minutes with your GP... and oddly, I reckon paying for it, increases the effect even more. But that's only really applicable to illnesses of the basic will-sort-themselves-out-eventually variety.

I think it's hugely concerning that the British Chiropractic Association produced a leaflet suggesting that chiropractic treatments were an appropriate way of dealing with colic or childhood asthma. I mean... if you're treating colic you're talking about treating babies. And if you're talking about manipulating the spine and/or joints of babies I think it's natural to be concerned. It makes me wince just thinking about the manipulation of a fully grown adult's, developed spine... but a baby's? Seriously? (Maybe there's some other chiropractic treatment that doesn't involve that sort of thing, in which case some clarification would be great. As would a new definition of chiropractic.)

Anyway, I only know about this leaflet having been produced (I believe it has since been withdrawn) because of this law suit and the attention it has brought to the case. If they hadn't sued Simon for libel, I wouldn't know anything about this. I'd still be under the more positive impression that they were 'proper-doctors-for-when-you-have-a-bad-back'. More fool them.

Of course there are other ways they could have reacted. Now, I'm not a doctor or a chiropractor or a baby so I don't know whether chiropractic offers a genuine treatment for these childhood complaints. I know what my gut instinct (and basic, layman's knowledge of how the body works) tells me... but putting that aside and entertaining both possibilities... here's how I think a reasonable organisation should behave:

1) If there is evidence for chiropractic being an effective treatment for colic and/or childhood asthma: Put the evidence forward and engage in a debate on the subject. No matter what side of the debate you fall on I can't honestly see an argument against this course of action. If you wholeheartedly believe that chiropractic offers an effective treatment how could you want less investigation of its efficacy? Who would possibly argue for less enquiry into something that involves manipulating babies' bones? More research = More information = Better treatment.

2) If the evidence suggests it isn't an effective treatment for colic and/or childhood asthma: Then surely you have to withdraw the leaflet and apologise. When a supermarket sells something that has the potential to be dangerous - say, a faulty kettle - they don't just stop selling it, they also make best efforts to ensure that anyone who's bought one returns it. This normally involves some pretty big adverts in national newspapers. If I was responsible for advertising a medical treatment that I later realised wasn't proven and could be dangerous I'd feel a huge responsibility to publicise and correct any misinformation that might be out there.

As far as I know, the BCA haven't taken either of these steps. (As I said above, I believe that the leaflet has been withdrawn but I have no idea if that is as a consequence of anything having been written about it or for some other reason.)

What they have done is sue a science writer who wrote an article offering his opinion on such practices. In doing so, they don't just intimidate one man, the message they send is that they do not welcome critical investigation of what they do. Which seems ridiculous to me because a) critical investigation of things is how science and medicine move forward and b) surely anything relating to medical treatment - especially treatment of children - should be open to scrutiny as a matter of public interest.

Who are chiropractors? What do you think they think? I imagine them to largely be of the caring, woolly, liberal type. (All adjectives I'd be happy to carry myself.) I think that's certainly the image they would choose to project. Which, to me, makes the BCA's decision to sue for defamation a mistake. It has changed the way I feel not just about what they do but also who they are.

No matter what you think about chiropractic, whether you dismiss the entirety of it as hogwash, believe it can sort out your bad back or believe it can cure 95% of illnesses in men, women and children alike, I simply can't see an argument for trying to silence its critics. It seems to me that an organisation that would best represent its members by encouraging debate has done them all a huge disservice by instead resorting to libel law; the blunt weapon of the bully.






EDIT: to add that Nick Cohen has since blogged on the subject also:
http://nickcohen.net/2009/05/20/simon-singh-and-the-battle-for-free-speech/

Two Wheels Good

I said I'd write something about my 270 mile bike ride... and it's taken me til now to find the time. Here goes...

When the tour happens I'll be doing an average of between 40 and 60 miles a day but there's at least one day where the ride is over 80 miles (a genuine oversight where a town got overlooked but shows were booked and we can't bend time to put a new day in) and another of 70+ so I wanted to get some long days in the saddle under my belt to see how I'd feel.

Using google maps on the walking setting I looked up the journey from my house to my Dad's and it came up as nearly 80 miles. Then I looked up the journey from there to my Mum's. It came in at around 90 miles. Then I looked up the journey from there back to mine and it came up as 130 something miles. So I figured I could make that a four day trip. My plan was to get to my Dad's on Day 1, to my Mum's on Day 2 but to make no plans on Day 3, just see how far I could get, then find a B&B and complete the journey on Day 4. Simply put the idea was to find where my limit was by the simple method of, um, pushing myself to the limit.

I spoke to my folks about it and tried to find dates that were convenient for them and for me... and there was basically only one four-day window where it could fit in - from Tuesday May 5 to Friday May 8. I had an early start on the 9th to look forward to, as I had to get to Belfast in time for an afternoon book-reading. I figured that so long as I ensured I left a really small journey for Day 4 that wouldn't be a problem. Besides, I needed to learn about myself, my bike and my equipment.

The first lesson learned came when I packed my bags. I had two panniers and was carrying what I thought was the bare minimum. A toothbrush, enough changes of cycle gear, a spare inner tube, my smallest, lightest camera, a puncture repair kit, a pump, some powdered sports drinks to help hydrate and replace salts etc. and that was pretty much it. It weighed way more than I want to be carrying. Without apology I'm going to go all David Cameron about it when it comes to the tour. I'm cycling, but some of my stuff is going to travel on ahead by car.

Here's the thing; there's going to have to be a car. There's a tour manager. His job is to make sure things run as smoothly as possible at each venue. He's there to help avert disaster. He has to carry equipment with him. He won't be cycling. Having a tour manager cycle would just be a way of doubling the chances of disaster striking. He won't be driving at 10mph alongside me... he'll be going on ahead and meeting me at places. And he can bloody well carry some spare clothes for me.

You might well say that I should carry my own clothes and do the sensible bike touring thing: wear-one-wash-one. Which is what I would do if I was just doing the coast-to-coast-to-coast-to-coast ride that I was originally planning. But now that it's become a tour as well as a bike ride it rather changes things. I don't have a day off. I don't have much spare time in my schedule at all. The time I would have spent washing my smalls in a B&B basin will be the time I'm spending on stage. There's no way I'm going to come off stage, mentally and physically exhausted by the day's twin challenges... then go and do some laundry.

Nope... the tour is the reason I'll have less free time to attend to biking matters and the tour is also the reason there's going to have to be a car in the vicinity. So the car will help me out. It's going to be hard enough as it is.

But, for these few days the fact that I was doing the journey with heavier than normal luggage was no bad thing. It made sense to me in the same way that doing more miles in a day than the tour will require of me made sense. It just added to the well-if-I-can-do-this-then-I-must-be-able-to-do-that sense of experiment. Obviously nothing can really prepare me for the intensity of 30+ days of back to back cycling, but in the absence of 30+ days for training, this kind of thing seemed to be just the ticket.

For what it's worth, here's a rough shot at picturing my journey on Day 1:

I've managed to get my Sat-Nav to talk to my computer but for some reason it won't upload the route from this day so I've filled in some of the blanks myself. Still, it's pretty close.

I'm not sure why the Sat Nav took me so far out west - all the way to Reading - before starting to climb north to Witney. I'd like to think it was doing something very clever and deliberately finding a less hilly route. If so, I dread to think how bad it would have been if it had been more direct. The route I took across The Chilterns was plenty hilly enough for my liking. (Chiltern's Feet Warmers? Thigh Burners more like. (Hello Jazz fans).)

Weirdly I'd used the Sat-Nav to ride to Windsor and back a couple of weeks earlier and it chose a completely different route out of London that time. Even though on both journeys I passed the same roundabout out near Datchett. How it can have two different best-routes from my house to that roundabout is beyond me?

I remain suspicious of the Sat Nav. There is lots to like about it - just having a computer telling you how many miles you've travelled and what speed you're doing is good for motivational purposes if nothing else - but there are also problems with it. But I think I've worked out how to best deal with some of them.

I had the thing set up with the standard settings... and that meant that, under these circumstances, it appeared to freeze from time to time. Every time I strayed even minutely from the prescribed route it would suddenly give me a message to say it was recalculating things. For example, to get from Piccadilly to Knightsbridge you can either go round the roundabout (Hyde Park Corner) or you can take the underpass. I prefer the roundabout for two reasons. a)cars aren't travelling at 60mph as they go round it and b)because you don't go down, you don't have to climb up either. By taking the roundabout I'm probably never more than 20 yards away from the underpass. But even that tiny diversion sends the Sat Nav into a spin and sets off the recalculation.

When it does this, it provides a status bar showing me the progress of the recalculation and then, when it reaches 100%... well, most of the time, nothing happens. I just get a screen with a status bar saying 100%. On two or three occasions I ended up giving up on it and turning the thing off and on again. I wasn't very far into Day 1 when this forced me into an unwanted 15 minute break at Hammersmith while I waited for it to make its mind up on the route to Witney.

I later discovered that it wasn't freezing it was just lying to me when it said the calculation was 100% done. If it's calculating a ten mile route it zips through it in no time at all. But when it's working out a complicated 90-something miler... it can take a minute or so to say it's done the calculation... and then another few minutes to actually finish it.

I only worked this out at the end of Day 2 when I was at my Mum's house in Stafford. I asked it to calculate the route from there to mine in London. I thought the thing had frozen with that annoying 100% status bar on the screen but instead of turning it off I just left it on the side while I did something else. It was a full fifteen minutes before the thing suddenly beeped and told me that it had calculated the route and that it was going to be 180 miles. (And not the 130 miles that Google maps reckoned it would take on foot.)

This gave me enough motivation to dig around in the settings and see if I could improve the functionality. I'm relieved to say that I did. It was simple - and obvious - to set it so that instead of automatically going into recalculate mode it now asks me whether or not I want it to do so. I say no. Then when I rejoin the route of choice, it just carries on... so no 15 minute recalculation is necessary. Phew. Me and the Sat Nav are friends again now.

Anyway, apart from the hills, the ride on Day 1 was pretty much a pleasure. Beyond Reading the scenery was pretty special and it was nice seeing parts of the country I haven't seen before. I passed the most stunningly vast bluebell wood I've ever seen - a carpet of bluebells went on for as far as the eye could see - and the town of Streatley, set on the banks of a nice wide stretch of the Thames was so ridiculously picture-postcard in its beauty that part of me suspects I've made it up. It's on the map though.

But I was always shy of stopping and losing momentum and so did my best to just power on through such places instead of breaking to take photos. Which was a shame and - with hindsight - I suspect, a mistake. But then again, that part of the ride was a constant run of peaks and valleys; long slow punishments followed by swift and exciting rewards. There's no way you can stop at the bottom of a hill. You don't want to start the climb from a standing start if you can possibly avoid it.

My favourite placename of Day1: Kingston Bagpuize.
Interesting wildlife seen: Red Kites: 12. Rabbits: 20 alive. 2.75 dead.
Miles cycled: Difficult to tell precisely because of the Sat Nav's down time. Approximately 90.

It was, I should note, my first experience of saddle soreness. I've done journeys of 40, 50 and 60 miles without ever feeling any discomfort in that department... even if I'm not wearing the right gear. But on this occasion I found it wasn't long after 60 miles that a bit of soreness started to affect me. Hmmm.

Here's Day 2. (With similar blank-filling-in-to-make-up-for-Sat-Nav downtime)
When I set off I was a bit worried. Because while I felt strong at the close of Day 1 things had definitely tightened up overnight. But about ten miles in I started to loosen up and it got easier as the day went on. There were still some awfully unpleasant hills to contend with in the early part of the day mind.

I even, whisper it, broke the speed limit on one occasion. I wasn't trying to but there was a village at the bottom of a steep hill (I think it was Finstock (they should have a festival of Crowded House cover bands)) and it was pretty hard not to build up quite a speed on the way down. I was aware that as I passed the 30mph sign I was doing 34.9mph. Not recommended. Obviously. That would be irresponsible.

My favourite road junction name on Day 2: Camp Hill Circus
Interesting animals seen: Ostriches: 2. Rabbits: 20+ alive, 3 dead. Fox: 1 dead. Ugh.
Miles cycled: Difficult to tell precisely because of the Sat Nav's down time. Approximately 90.

Day 3. This time, having come to a good working arrangement with my Sat Nav, it's been able to upload it to my computer and this is the exact route that I took.

Incidentally, a quick note to the schoolgirls of Tamworth: smoking on the way to school makes you look more childlike, not less. Honest. It really does.

I didn't feel anywhere near as tight in the muscles at the start of Day 3. I reckon I can put that down to the magic of my Skins recovery tights. I slept in them overnight and I'm pretty convinced that my legs started the next day feeling better as a result. Odd. Tingly-odd. But if it works...

The biggest improvement I made as I went on was in stopping, eating and drinking. On Day 3 I think I realised that time wasn't really the enemy as I'd made my previous destinations in the early afternoon both times. (I took between 6 and 7 hours each day). So on Day 3, I took more breaks, sitting on more patches of grass and eating more snacks. I also drank more throughout the day. It's a habit I know I need to get into. Drink before you're thirsty, eat before you're hungry is the advice I've been given. I need to remind myself.

I didn't weigh myself at the end of Day 1 but I know I didn't drink enough. When I got to my Dad's, I'd sweated so much away there were dried salt crystals on my face. I felt fine but that can't be right. I tried to drink more on Day 2. I weighed myself when I got to my Mum's. I was over a stone lighter than I'd been at the start of the Day 1. Criminy! On Day 3 I think I managed to double my liquid intake. At the end of Day 3, my weight was exactly where it had been at the start of the day. I reckon I did okay on Day 3.

Anyway, by the time I got to Northampton - about 2.30 pm I'd done just over 90 miles again and the Sat Nav was telling me that the journey from there to mine was another 90 miles. I was hoping to leave something much smaller for the fourth day - say 30 or 40 miles - so that I'd know I could do it in the morning and still have the afternoon to make my arrangements for the Belfast trip... but seeing as the journey back to London had become 180 miles instead of the predicted 130 that was seeming unlikely. I knew I didn't have another 50 miles in me that day - saddle soreness seemed to kick in at around 60 miles each day - and so there was no way I could make any meaningful dent in the remainder.

I thought about ploughing on to Milton Keynes (has anyone ever thought of that before?) but that would still leave me with 70 miles to do on Day 4 and that didn't seem like a good idea. I was pretty sure I could do it... but a few what-ifs had started to enter the equation. I had to be up at 7am on the Saturday morning. What if I got a puncture 50 miles in to Day 4? What if that - or other delays - meant I didn't get back to London til the evening? Would I still put on a good show in Belfast?

As it wasn't possible to leave a much smaller journey for Day 4 I decided to cut my losses and run. I'd done 90 miles a day for three days running and that seemed like plenty enough to prove a point to myself. I took the train the rest of the way. Well, all the way to Euston - I cycled again from there.

Which is the point at which a potentially useful thought occurred to me.

I'd whizzed round the back of Kings Cross and got on to the canal tow path and was using that to head east using the cut throughs and so on that I know to get me through Islington where the tow path disappears for a wee while. I was cycling differently here. I was back on home turf. I was using my local cycling knowledge. It was a route that the Sat Nav wouldn't have given me. But it was definitely the best route. Which is where this thought comes in.

There's nothing that technology can do to replace local knowledge. I know better routes from A to B on my patch than any computer's ever going to suggest. And the same must be true for other people all over the country.

And there has to be a way of me tapping into that local knowledge when I embark on this tour. I've had a lot of people asking if they can accompany me on certain legs of the tour. Which I've not known how to deal with. Part of me thinks it would be a good idea and part of me worries about feeling responsible for others when I know I'll have a head full of other things to deal with. I don't want to become some unofficial tour guide when it's obvious that I - of all people - don't know what I'm doing. I don't enjoy being "in charge."

But I can see massive benefits in tapping into local knowledge. I don't want to be a tour guide but I don't mind being guided. I don't know how to best organise this but I'll give it some thought.

Yup, the idea of starting the journey from Lizard Point to Grampound in the knowledge that I'm with someone who knows the area and has done the route before sounds pretty damn good to me. And if the next day I meet a new guide who knows the best way to cycle from Grampound to Liskeard... and then...

Two Things (Part B)

I've split what was one post with two subjects... into two separate posts. Revisionism! Yes. That's right. Good isn't it? Only I wasn't expecting it to garner quite so much attention. But if people are linking to this because of what I've written about the Simon Singh case, I figured it would be easier if that was all they found when they got here.

So... here's that bit:

There's a science writer. His name is Simon Singh. He writes great books about science (one of which inspired a stand-up routine of mine a while back) and writes articles that I think successfully convey the beauty of science and maths to people whether or not they have a sciencey background. I like Simon Singh. He's a good man.

Now... I'm going to tread as carefully as I can here because I'm discussing a legal case. Now, while chiropractors can help with some problems there is, as far as I'm aware, no medical evidence to suggest that they can deal with certain other things... like children suffering from colic or asthma. But the British Chiropractic Association were (and might still be) making claims that their members could help deal with these and other problems.

This seems to me to be an interesting area for discussion and certainly something that a science writer (especially one who has, with the world's first professor of complementary medicine, co-authored a book on the subject) should be writing about. It's important that people know what can and can't be treated in what way. Some complementary treatments have their place in the world but they're harmed if there is obfuscation and/or misinformation about them which if nothing else only helps to bolster the view of cynics who then might overlook the genuine good than can come from other parts of what they do.

Now - I hope I'm treading carefully enough - Simon wrote about this. As I read it he was careful to define his terms. If I was the BCA and I wanted to challenge him about it I'd bring forward the evidence supporting my claims. After all, that's what should be debated. Can they help a child with colic? Are there tests that say they can? If not, why not? Etc.

Instead they have sued him for libel. Which seems like a heavy handed way of silencing a critic. And the preliminary hearing - which helps to define the nature of the case - does not appear to have gone well. It seems the judge has decided what Simon meant when he used the word 'bogus' - even though the judge's view of the word's meaning is a) different to the dictionary definition and b) different to the definition contextualised by Simon in the article. But because the judge has decided that his version of the word is what Simon meant... the case now has to proceed on that basis. Lawks.

One wonders what hope there is for journalism when a science writer cannot describe as bogus, something for which there is no scientific evidence. I mean... we'll end up with nobody able to question anything... and isn't questioning things what both science and journalism are sort of about? I mean, really?

Anyway... I fear I haven't explained this very well. There's a far better explanation of it on the brilliant Jack of Kent blog. As well as taking in that particular entry, I'm going to be using Jack of Kent to help me follow the case as it progresses. It's a free-speech thing. Worrying times.

Two Things (Part A)

I've split what was one post with two subjects... into two separate posts. Revisionism! Yes. That's right. Good isn't it? Only I wasn't expecting it to garner quite so much attention. The thing is, people were linking to the original post because of stuff I'd written about the Simon Singh legal case and it was confusing because they found me gushing about Misty's Big Adventure instead. I mean, I love MBA... but I wouldn't want someone to walk away from a debate about Freedom of Speech just because they thought they'd followed the wrong link or something.

So, what follows is the fun bit about MBA. The scary bit about Simon Singh being sued by the British Bhiropractic Association is in another post (Part B) if you're interested.

First: I've just discovered that Misty's Big Adventure are touring. They're aces. Here's one of their latest releases. Cool video too:


And here's another one. The fact that the two videos have a little relationship - so to speak - is just a lovely example of the attention to detail and joyful silliness that so endears this band to me. Ahhh.


Anyway... they're playing in Sheffield tomorrow, London on Thursday (hoo ha!) and then, with days off here and there they play in Manchester, Newcastle, Glasgow, Oxford, Norwich, Southampton, Cardiff, Bristol, Birmingham ending in Tunbridge Wells on June 12. If you can get to a gig, I highly recommend you do. If you can bear to look at a myspace page (I know, it's difficult) you can find more details here: myspace.com/mistysbigadventure.

And I would ride 300 miles... and I would ride 300 more...

The title's a bit of a lie. But in the last three days I have cycled 270 miles.

I'm going to Belfast in the morning and I have a bag to pack... which means I don't really have time to write about it now.

But I will. When I'm back.

In the meantime, know this: my arse is numb.

Hopefully, I'll see some of you in Belfast for my reading on Saturday afternoon.

Limescale

I love living in London. It makes me very happy. If pushed, the one thing I can think of that lets London down is the water. It's hard. I was used to soft water before moving to London. I was used to soap that lathered with ease and a kettle that wasn't in permanent need of descaling.

I hate limescale. If you've only ever lived with soft water you probably don't know what I'm going on about. If you've only ever lived with hard water you probably just accept limescale as a fact of life and struggle to see how I can actually hate it. But I do. And I reckon anyone who's lived with soft water and then moved to a hard water area probably does too.

There are products that help to get rid of it... but they only ever bring temporary relief. A day or two later and limescale will have crept back to your showerhead, your taps and anywhere else that water reaches. Got a glass shower door? In a hard water area it'll never, ever, ever look anywhere near as nice as it did when it was new. Once water hits it, no matter what you do to try and prevent it, hard water will leave its mark. You show me a Londoner with a sparkling clean, limescale free bathroom and I'll show you someone who doesn't wash. Their taps might be glistening, but believe me, so are their armpits.

It strikes me that limescale creates its own special economy. I assume people in soft water areas aren't bombarded with adverts for Calgon. Well there's no reason why you should be spared the annoying jingle. Go on. Watch this.

Now try and sleep at night without hearing that choir singing the "Washing machines live longer with Calgon!" jingle every time you close your eyes. Go on. Try.

I hate limescale so much that I recently thought about buying a Scale-Beater II. It is - as far as I can make out - a small magnet that clips on to your cold water inlet pipe. It gets rid of your limescale by... hang on, I have no understanding of quite how a magnet can get rid of limescale. Nope. It makes no sense to me whatsoever. But that's how much I hate limescale - enough to consider a completely irrational purchase. I might as well buy a magic incantation or a limescale voodoo doll... and I'd consider those too.
A quick google reveals that the scale-beater II is (or has been) a Reader Offer for The Times, The Independent, The Daily Mirror and loads of local newspapers too. I could go on about how these organisations should be embarrassed to associate themselves with a product as shonky as this but I won't bother with that today. Instead I'll say this: if putting a small magnet on my cold water inlet pipe removes the limescale why don't the water companies put a massive big magnet on their cold water outlet pipe and just soften the water for all of us instead of pumping us this calcium rich, washing machine destroying, iron killing, bathroom defacing, kitchen spoiling rot.

I don't really know how rational the whole anti-limescale economy is. It's certainly motivated in large part by fear. Ads like the Calgon one above work by persuading us to spend a few quid protecting our washing machines - something that costs hundreds of pounds to buy. I've never actually met anyone who's had to replace their washing machine because of limescale build up but I'm persuaded by this culture of fear that it happens and as a consequence I add stuff to my wash to prevent it. (Not necessarily Calgon, mind you, I tend to just use some soda crystals.)

If limescale is as damaging as it is unsightly then it seems to me those of us living in hard water areas are caught out financially one one way or another. If we don't spend money on products designed to fight the stuff - there's a never ending list of special gels, powders and liquids on the market all aimed at your loo, your kettle, your shower, your dishwasher, your washing machine, your taps, your iron etc etc - then we surely end up spending our money on new washing machines, new irons, new kettles and so on. Those of you who live in soft water areas don't just have nicer looking plumbing (missus!) you also have a few extra quid in your pockets that we hard-water victims don't have.

If there was a way of softening the nation's water it's not only limescale that would be wiped out. This whole economy of fear would be wiped out too. Sales of kettles would fall. Washing machines would last longer with or without Calgon. Calgon itself would be gone.

A year ago I'd have been in favour of this. A year ago we weren’t in a credit crunch. We can’t let the economy slow down any more than it has already. As I type this, below-average-looking-women-with-above-average-singing-voices is Britain's only growth industry. The government goes out of its way to protect the car industry. Incentives are discussed to stimulate growth in the new car market... well why shouldn't washing machine retailers be given the same attention? And what about plumbers?

I might hate limescale but I'm prepared to take one for the team here. I have a plan to help rescue us from financial doom and gloom. It’s simple. We need Hard Water For All.

As far as I can tell, in Britain the soft-water areas are Devon and Cornwall, Wales, Scotland and parts of North West England. Well they've had it too good for too long. Let's pump calcium and magnesium into the water supply for the whole country! Scotland: your whisky might taste better with soft water but your plumbers need the work! Come on Devon and Cornwall, your soap might lather up with ease but you're simply not buying as many washing machines per lifetime as the rest of us. Come on Wales, your bathrooms might have effortless sparkle, but if each of you bought just one bottle of descaler that’d pump some much needed cash back into the system. Come on Manchester… your water’s soft. It wears a coat in winter and likes doilies. You can’t be happy with that.

Come on Britain. We need to spend our way out of trouble and if the only way to do it is to make everyone’s lives more limescaley, I for one am prepared to go with it. And if it works for us there's no reason why this can't be rolled out across the globe. After all, the recession is global.

In Australia, Adelaide has hard water... but Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra have it soft. Time for that to end. The water in Canada is generally quite hard - except on the West Coast. 85% of American homes have hard water - but that still means there are 15% of homes that can join this new economy with just a little chemical adulteration to the water supply.

Come on world. Let's make our water - and our economy - harder together.

In The Loop...

I went to the premiere of In The Loop on Wednesday night. It's brilliant. I love The Thick Of It on TV - and it comes from the same creative team - so I had high hopes for it. But also some concerns.

Peter Capaldi plays Malcolm Tucker - the same spin-doctor role he plays in The Thick Of It but many of the other actors are involved and are playing different roles. For example, I'm used to seeing Chris Addison as Ollie but here he plays Toby. Admittedly the characters are very similar to each other... but the action has shifted to a new department so their jobs are nominally different and their relationships to other characters are too. I thought the knowledge that Thick Of It Capaldi knows Thick Of It Addison might make it weird that In The Loop Capaldi doesn't initially know In The Loop Addison. Imagine watching an Eastenders spin off in which Babs Windsor played Peggy Mitchell and Ross Kemp appeared - but not as her son Grant Mitchell. That'd be weird. Very weird. And, one imagines, not very good. Well this is nothing at all like that. Whether or not you've ever seen The Thick Of It doesn't matter a jot. It isn't a film-length episode of the TV show... it's its own entity. You quickly allow the new story to envelop you and take it all at face value. The cast are flawless but the two I've mentioned already - Capaldi and Addison - are, alongside Tom Hollander's flappy, out-of-his-depth career politician Minister, exceptional.

Perhaps most weirdly the film appears to contain two premonitions. There are two lines in the fictional story that echo tabloid news stories from the last couple of weeks. They can't possibly have known they were going to happen. It almost makes me think that Jacqui Smith's husband is actually working for the film's PR company. Almost.

Outside The Bubble

What a ridiculous and lovely weekend. On Saturday morning I travelled up to Northumbria for a wedding of two beautiful friends.

I wouldn't have missed it for the world but selfishly I think it was really good for me too. After a week of living in the publicity bubble as we built up to Friday night's first episode of Genius it was the perfect way of reminding me that there are always more important things out there.

Because I had commitments in London on Friday the only way of making the journey was to fly up to Newcastle and then hire a car. If you're a regular reader you might know that I gave up car ownership a few years ago. The last time I drove in the UK was when I got to drive one of those tiny electric cars for an item on the Grand Designs Live thing I did last May.

The flight was, um, unpleasant. Really the only thing that made the weekend less than perfect. Newcastle United were hosting Arsenal that day so inevitably the plane was full and had a blokes-away-day tone to it. At one point, when a conspicuously pretty young girl returned to her seat from a trip to the loo she was given a round of applause by fifty blokes. Charming. I'm sure the knowledge that every woman who made the walk to and from the back of the plane was being judged on their appearance made everyone feel really relaxed about the rest of the flight. Especially as some of the blokes sitting near me then had a loud conversation about the relative merits of the stewardesses who - they decided - weren't as pretty as they'd hoped.

I really hate being in crowds of men when this sort of thing happens. I know they think they're just having a laugh and to many I probably just sound like a killjoy but not one of them would behave like that if they weren't bolstered by the power of the mob (and booze). We landed at 9.30am and they were loudly boasting about being four pints in already.

There's obviously no way of doing anything about it so the best you can do is meet people's eyes and try to tacitly express that you're not a part of it. In order to assert to myself how uninvolved I was I put my headphones in and listened to the campest music I could. Thanks Boogaloo Stu.

At the airport I joined the queue for the hire car company and suddenly had a heart stopping moment. I was sixth or seventh in line and I watched as everyone else in front of me took out their driver's licences. They all had the paper part of their licence as well as the card. I felt the blood drain away. The e-mail that confirmed the booking for the hire car had explicitly stated that I needed to bring both parts of my licence. I'd made a note of it. I'd even checked that the paper part was kept in the drawer I thought it was at the time. But at midnight, when I was packing my bag I'd forgotten that detail and had neglected to fetch and pack it. Oops. (Or as they say in Denmark: ups.)

I spent ten minutes in the queue certain I was about to be told that while I'd already paid for the car I couldn't actually take it. Certain I would meet a there's-nothing-I-can-do refusal. Sure I was about to take a very expensive cab instead. When it was my turn I told him straight away that I didn't have the paper licence and he just shrugged and said, "No problem, I'll just have to call the DVLA and check your endorsements." Such a relief.

Then he tried to persuade me to pay for an upgrade. I'd arranged to hire a small hatchback. I was being offered a Mercedes sports car. I turned it down to begin with. I'd arranged to pay extra for a sat-nav. The Mercedes came with an inbuilt sat-nav so he explained that they'd take off the fee for the sat-nav as an add on if I took it. By the time he'd finished explaining the benefits it was going to cost me something ridiculous like an extra £8 to take the sports car. So I did. The photograph up top shows you the car I was driving and the hotel I was staying in. Ridiculous. Very out of character for me. But lovely. Very, very lovely.

I don't want to write about personal things - especially other people's personal things - so I'll only say that the wedding itself was fabulous and a glorious time was had by all. By the time I'd returned to London late on Sunday afternoon I was feeling pretty wiped out.

Digression: I went for a wee in the gents at Newcastle airport. Above every urinal there was an advert. It was for a bookmakers that was located within the airport by security. They were doing a special Mothers' Day offer. A free £3 matched bet. What? Is that as misplaced an advert as it seems to me to be? Perfect for any bloke who's forgotten Mothers' Day, but taken their gambling addicted Mum to the airport for the day. What!

Digression over: ... feeling pretty wiped out. Not at all in the mood to do a gig. But a gig is what I had to do because I'd agreed to do a spot in Ali McGregor's Late Nite Variety Nite night. Elated by the weekend's football results I decided to laugh in the face of exhaustion and cycle into town. I'm glad I did. I know Ali but had never seen her perform before and didn't really know what to expect from the evening. It was camp and silly and very, very funny cabaret. Ali and all her guests were amazing. There were singers, accordionists and burlesque acts (how odd that having followed a burlesque act for the first time so recently I got to do it again so soon) and by the time the interval came I was feeling like some stand-up would be a wholly inappropriate interruption to the flow of the evening.

It made me change the way I approached the gig. Stand-up is by and large an illusory artform. Most comics are pretending to be more in the moment than they appear. Things are normally more written than a lot of the audience appreciates. Even most of the comedians who appear to be making it all up as they go along are largely doing no such thing. (Although I saw Phil Kay last week and I'm pretty sure he was for real and he was absolutely ace.) But every now and then, you are. And when you're on stage and saying things you've never said - or thought - before and it's working you feel incredibly alive. It's when the thing you normally sort of pretend to be doing has come to life.

Following four other stand-ups changes the way you approach a gig. The audience has got used to a stand-up rhythm and you feel like you have to bang it out in order to hold their attention. But following a Lady Elvis, an accordionist, a camp singer of torch songs, an omnichordist (don't ask) and a Star Trek themed burlesque made me abandon any plans and just feel my way through a set.

Don't get me wrong, most of what I said on stage was material I'd done before - although none of it was the stuff I'd thought about doing in advance. But maybe 20% of it was completely new. By which I mean, not-even-from-my-new-things-I-haven't-tried-yet page of my notebook. Things I'd never even thought about before, let alone written down or said out loud. About half of that new stuff will never work again because it was about the night and the situation and the moment and the shared consciousness in the room... but maybe the other half can be turned into something.

Of course it will never be as exciting for me as it was last night when I was saying - and hearing - it for the first time. And maybe that's the more important gain. I've been out of stand-up for a long time and while I think gigs are generally going well it is something you never stop learning about. Comedy clubs create their own atmosphere and expectations, as do cabaret nights like last night. But it's useful to do them all because you learn something about yourself by working in such different environments.