The fleshpots of Eastbourne had tempted the rest of the group away today (or perhaps they had heard I would be leading the ride) and so it was left to a skeleton crew (Martina, Tony, Sabina, Bernard, Graham, Geoff and me) to keep the flag flying at elevenses.
Elevenses over, Graham and Geoff wisely turned for home but I could not deter the rest from following me on a meander through some of the more forgettable parts of west London. The typical Bank Holiday weather (overcast with a chill breeze) provided a perfect backdrop and the only moments of relief were provided by the odd sewage works, stately home, and new born lamb.
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