Oh thank you Wikipedia !

I just read an article about the Patagonian Toothfish.  

Ugly bugger, isn't he?   But you've most likely eaten one.  So in a tiny way you are co-responsible for the Toothfish-fishery being called 'an unstable fishery'. Fancy words for the fact that the Patagonian Toothfish will be the Cod or Sockeye of next year.  Why would this ugly beast with an ugly name be getting fished close to depletion?  Because someone had a very bright idea.  You see, no one would order a Patagonian Toothfish from a restaurant menu (OK, maybe I would, but then I'm strange that way) or buy it in the supermarket.  So what that certain someone did was to RENAME the fish (only in North America, where most of these get eaten).  They just called it the Chilean Sea Bass.    Ring any bells?

Could have walked that (4.6 Miles from Worth to Horley)

Funky Fungus

I'm leaving The Regency Hotel at 10 am, hoping to make it to the next bike store to get my bike problem solved.



b

No speeding

The distance to Horley, location of Gatwick Airport and location of a bike store is 4.6 Miles.  Both batteries are fully charged and if I ride that distance with full battery assist ("TURBO" they call it ;-), I should be able to almost exclusively use my right leg to pedal, avoiding putting a load on that already wobbly left crank.

The dreaded moment has arrived

No pedaling today ;-(

At least so was the thinking.  But what luck:  The crank avec pedal finally falls off without further ado on a bridge over railway tracks.  I am able to coast down the road off the bridge and have to hit the brakes when I realize I was about to pass the bike shop ;-)  The shop owner seems to know exactly what to do about the crank.  But my suspicion was correct: No store called on a Saturday has that part in stock as a is quickly revealed.

A night in the country (or The Old Hollow

The Regency Hotel is located along The Old Hollow. As the name suggests, that is in the Middle Of Nowhere. But the staff is amazing, offering me tools to fix the bike. Unfortunately it is not tools I need.

Since the bike is out of commission, the usual supermarket dinner is out of the question and I have dinner in the hotel. Lamb shank with mint sauce, new potatoes and carrots and beans.

The chef must have heard the rumours about British cuisine, because the carrots and beans are even a tad on the crunchy side.

Either this food or the quiet countryside are responsible for me sleeping from 9 pm to 6 am !

The Old Hollow (Durch diese hohle Gasse ...)

well-rested

My left pedal ( or My former left crank)

My left pedal is making creaking noises.  BAD creaking noises.  I thought I'd just drop by a local bike shop and buy a new one.
Or so I thought until I flipped the bike upside down and had a closer look at it.  There is a bolt missing.  That bolt would hold the left crank firmly attached to the motor, if it was still there. But it isn't and there is nothing really holding my left crank onto the motor but inertia.  It's wobbling already !  No major riding before this gets fixed.

So I'm going to visit a bike shop tomorrow. But they might not have the right part and I might I have to go to a car repair shop .  Find a bolt with the same metric thread; cut it to the right length; find a proper washer that doesn't scrape my ankles out with every revolution.

Bolt holding the crank

Oh Fun !  And the worst is that all this is probably due to some French mechanic not tightening the bolt properly !

Merde !

No bolt holding the crank

Rescued by a Ramada Receptionist

I am exhausted.  I cycled from Brighton to Crawley.  And there were HILLS along the way. My left pedal is making an unearthly sound. And now my cell phone map has directed me into a maze of traffic round-abouts connecting motorways and highways.  These traffic puddings are so busy, I don't even cycle them anymore but try to scamper across the individual on or off branches without becoming road kill.  I am not going to cycle on a motorway, that I have decided.  But I can't see any normal roads going into the general direction that I have to go to get to my hotel. The town with my hotel is not far; I just have no idea how to get there. This is probably the low point of all my travels so far.   Sitting on the side of a giant traffic circle with motorways above me and frantic cars EVERYWHERE.

Then I see it.  A Ramada Hotel. Just up the embankment over the next traffic circle branch. I fight my way over that branch with my last strength and then pedal-squeak my way into the Ramada driveway.

A little while later I restrain myself from verbally assaulting the first receptionist, after she tells me that she has never heard of a town that is maybe 3 miles away.  Honey, you have the wrong job!  What is worse: She gives me that look.  You know the look that says "That's it.  Move along. No further information forthcoming". Also known as the Homer-Simpson-look. Is it just my imagination or do I hear 'Duuuh' from somewhere.

Then steps forward the second receptionist of smaller statue with a shy demeanour and a Mexican or Spanish accent. He asks me again for the name of the hotel I am hoping to stay in and starts typing on his keyboard. He mentions to his Simpsonesque co-worker that he is going to print me a map.  Fighting off a loud-mouthed Ramada grounds worker vying for his attention, he receives the results of his efforts from the printer.  He proceeds to explain to me in detail how to use the map (It's a Google Map), and then also gives me a page of those Google turn-left, turn-right instructions.  I thank him profusely, insist that he keep the tip (helping wayward cyclists staying in other hotels is NOT part of his job description) and when I have hopped on the bike and have squeaked a few revolutions away, he comes running after me down the Ramada driveway because I have forgotten one of the sheets with the turn-right turn-left instructions.

THANK YOU, not only for providing me with excellent directions, but more importantly for treating even a scruffy & tired cyclist like a human being and for giving said cyclist hope that there is some good Karma floating around England somewhere ;-)

To the Hills, Head to the Hills ! (Brighton to Crawley by bike)

As in July, I have gotten accustomed again to falling asleep and waking up to the crashing of ocean waves.  A very relaxing sound.  In St. Malo I used to sit on the stairs leading into the ocean, one or two steps above the level that the ocean could reach at the moment, and would just watch and listen to the waves.  And trust me: It beats Don Cherry and Hockey Night in Canada any day ;-)  As I type this, the waves around Brighton Pier hit the beach in confirmation.  So it is not surprising that my decision to head north fills me with just a tiny bit of worry or dread.

The style of King George V

Brighton Cathedral?

Thank you Google Maps

going into the hills was fun; coming down into the plain wasn't.

Brighton ( Not ‘alf bad, No ‘alf bad)

I had been dreading Brighton.  It could have been one of those seaside resorts without a soul but with any imaginable trap set to keep the money of the elderly female tourists that wear way too much make-up in relation to their high stiletto heels.   But it's not. It actually reminds me a lot of Bray, Ireland.

Also: there are advantages to booking the hotel room one is going to stay the night in only on the morning of the same day.  Hotels panic as easily as airlines.  If they think they’re going to fly the night with empty seats or beds, they slash prices.  In this particular case, the price was slashed by more than 50%. For 59 pounds (still about $100, so definitely not cheap, but then the cheapest room in Brighton is 50 pounds) I’m staying at the Royal Albion Hotel in Brighton.

I have an ocean view room and can see Brighton Pier right outside my window.  Of course, the hotel has no bicycle storage, so le velo is sitting in my bedroom, and there are no direct-dial telephones.  There is a Morrison supermarket 2 blocks away, so dinner & breakfast will be cheap. The beach is literally right across the street. 

Normally I’m not a big fan of Jacuzzis, but since I spied one in my bathroom (WTF?), I decided to take a bath.  A good decision; not many things feel better after a long bike ride ;-) 

Why a view?  To see View as a function of Time, of course !

Late afternoon

Early evening

Evening

Early morning

good camouflage

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