I’m alive, and I’m a horrible cyclist

Exeter to Launceston: left around 11.15am, arrived at 5.36pm. 72.5k/44.9 miles. avg speed ? max ?

Finally I got to Launceston and just before dark too, that’s a rule. Rolled into town and asked a couple of people where to stay, one guy pointed me up a hill to a B&B which was closed when I got there. Had a choice between a hotel and a guest house down the road. Had a look in the hotel, it had a fire. Sold! Once I got warm I could picture myself sitting around the fire telling stories from the last couple of days and cracking jokes: ‘no but that’s a real nice ski mask.’ Was a bit out of my price range which was annoying cause I was being careful with all my expenditures up to that point but it was warm which was all I needed now. Walked up the stairs and nearly fell over, it was like being on the titanic. This trippy floor would not do my knees much good.

Shower just wasn’t hot enough but I had the best cup of tea in my life even though it was a nightmare to fill up the tea pot. You'd squeeze it into the sink, fill it up, then it would pour back out as you tried to get it out of the sink. The room was too cold for me to be bothered to do any stretches this time. Not hot enough shower, annoying tea pot, wonky floor, cold room – places like this bring back a lot of bad memories.

I’m sure I had a choice of nightclubs but it was too cold to be waiting in a queue so I just got some fish and chips and a jumbo sausage. Lots going on in town this weekend.

Massive amount of food that I had to take a break half way through then sat in the bar watching football and started writing this. Ordered a hot whiskey. One of the old lads at the bar asked for “his” glass, that’s how busy the place was. He wasn’t happy when he heard it was missing and demanded to know who was working earlier. Bartender, one more please! The first one opened the flood gates but the second hit the spot. As I sat in front of the fire writing away sparks flew, emotions ran high. Supping back on grandpa’s old cough medicine I thought this ain’t too bad: going to random places, staying in dodgy hotels, like a real sportsman. I stumbled up to bed (the floors fault, not the whiskey) and wrote my memoirs until 3. Set my alarm for 9, really going to need a good night’s sleep soon.