EDitorial ± 25-May-2010

Man Baits Dog

Hottest day of the year and next door's radio (I was going to show my age and use the word "tranny") is playing Lazing On A Sunny Afternoon by the mighty Kinks. There's some loose talk of a late afternoon BBQ. Fresh meat is required. Best I point my pannier and assume the saddle. But to where?

  • Sainsbury's -- nearest, pricy
  • Asda -- good value, unpleasant main road
  • Tesco -- ditto Asda
  • Waitrose -- 15.3 miles to the closest branch

I know. Let's do Morrison's for a change. Down Riverside Road then take the riverside cycle path: not done that before. All very hoop-la alongside the murky water, though no obvious way to enter the industrial estate. Keep going and it'll all work out. Under bridges, over bridges, and still not reached my destination. Past the sugar beet weir by the back of the defunct beet factory and waddya know, here we are at Sproughton.

Man, I need a cold Coke or summat. Thinks: new village shop has recently opened. There's the sign up the road, with offers of pasties and ice creams. Super. Round the side we go ... and it's closed, apart from a beer festival. Pint of Coachman's Whip or a lukewarm Kia-Ora. I'll pass.

Back along unpleasant main road to Morrison's and in we go to secure some lurid red Chinese marinated loin pork and a litre of apple & raspberry juice. Ah, that's better. Decide to cut through nearby new development, an option not available to cars.

Right into Cadmus Road, idling along, and I pass a dog sitting in a tiny front garden. As I go past, it feigns an interest and gets up. I look round and the bloomin' animal -- bulldog? -- is following me. That's fine, there's plenty in the tank and I'll speed up. It speeds up too. Sharp left into Jovian Way and surely it's come too far and will give up. Nope, those legs and that breath seem to be gaining, maybe scenting my butcher's treats. More than a bit concerned now, fast right turn and it's still on my back wheel. Amazing what a little adrenaline can do to enhance your performance as I blur those pedals and switch 90 degrees once more. Finally, three streets from home, it lets me go: it's had enough fun for one sunny afternoon.