Danger, Dungeness and Dinner

Had a wonderful day (and night) yesterday. Although Danger is feeling it a bit today. I admit, it's my fault entirely - I made him ride hard for a long time, with only minimal prep, and the odd break for a stretch, so today he's limping about the flat slightly, looking a little sore.

It's my hands and wrists that took the brunt. All that squeezing, pulling, twisting...



But we'll both get used to going on long rides if we keep getting away for days out.

Dungeness was as beautiful as always. (Any of you in the UK, if you like odd, alien, desolate landscapes, get down there.) Dangers got more pictures, and I'm sure he'll put them up soon.

An old abandoned hut, boat and winding gear, with the narrow gauge track they used to push the fish wagons over the shingle on. There's a lot of bits like this - sort of sad. You wonder what the people thought, when they walked away for the final time, leaving it all here, for the weather to batter.

People do still live there, though, in odd little cottages and shacks, scattered across the shingle.

On a sidenote that will probably interest Sherlock more than anyone else, a lot of bodies fetch up here, from people who've gone over the cliffs at Beachy Head, or other places along the south coast. All to do with the currents - the same reason all this shingle has ended up here, creating the whole area.

The ride was fantastic. We took mainly back roads - nice and twisty, country lanes, fast stretches - although we did hop onto the motorway a little on the way back, because I wanted to let the bike really open up. I think Danger kept his eyes open more. (I mainly think that because whenever we did anything that was a little bit tight, or that could have made him worry, the squeezing increased - so he must have seen it coming.)

Anyway, the more we ride, the more relaxed he'll get. And I will, for that matter.

Then, when we got back, he surprised me by having organised dinner out - Mrs Hudson had agreed to keep an eye on the boys. So I got even more of him to myself. The food was fantastic, the wine perfect, and we rolled in very late. Or early, depending how you look at it.

Sherlock had set up some sort of booby-trap noise-making device on our bedroom door. I didn't spot it, but Danger did - just in time! Otherwise we'd have had a wide-awake Sherlock on our hands at a time when it would have been a little inconvenient.

As it was, we got a wide awake Sherlock at just gone half five, instead. I swear, that boy is like a crab - lots of arms and legs, all of them sharp, pointy and directed at parts of us that hurt. He jumped on us, managed to force himself into a gap between us (on top of the covers), and then sort of wedge us apart until he was comfortable. All the while never even pausing for breath telling us about penguins. No, I don't know why. I think the end of the conversation was Danger agreeing we could go and see the new penguin pool at the zoo soon. And me getting up to get coffee and make Sherlock some toast.

Then headed back to bed, leaving Sherlock with Mycroft and YouTube to keep him entertained. I'm sure it's not responsible parenting, but I needed more Danger and more sleep.

Now we're all up, washed dressed and debating the plan for the day. The key points seem to be dog walking, a large lunch and Sherlock is desperate to go mudlarking (scratching about on the banks of the Thames at low tide, for...well, 'stuff') so we might. Low tide is about half five this afternoon. I think he wants to find bodyparts, as he knows that's what I've been looking for recently.

We won't be going to the area that's producing arms and legs though, don't worry. Not on a Sunday.