Interlude

I am currently sat in a library in Lyon, raring to write about all my new adventures. Got completely distracted though when I found this drafted and edited, ready to go. As it leads nicely to what I want to write next, I thought I'd finally put it up. Voilà.

26/03/2024 

We are back and feeling good, two days from the end of term, the day after a excellently normal birthday. My 33rd birthday, the beginning of the "3" era, and everyone knows good things come in threes. Had work and netball so did literally nothing out of the ordinary. Opened my presents the day before, except for a few surprise tangerines* from my students. Zero birthday pressure. Didn't even tell anyone at netball.

Which I'm absolutely loving (after the first few games where I was constantly being called up for rules I didn't understand). Got into netball with Flo and have been playing in a mixed league. Exercise is fun, and it is making me feel good, and I'm eating loads to make up for it. My cycle in and out of work helps me let go of all the exhausting teacher stuff through the day. I wish I could cycle every day, but my fitness and energy levels cant take more than 4 times a week right now. Maybe "4 on, 3 off" should be my pattern if I ever was stupid enough to cycle again for weeks at a time.

Which I think I am. And is also why I'm back writing. There's big(ish) cycle is on the horizon.

Stop all the Clocks

I had all but sworn off doing big trips again. Buying a new bicycle brought me out of my existential funk, but honestly it was just too tragic what happened.

We had spent 200 odd days through half the stans, the deserts of China, the packed streets of Istanbul, alone and cold with no one to hold but my dear Mary-kesh, the steed more legendary than Sleipnir himself. A bike without equal. This is her eulogy.

She'd slept safe and sound on hotel roofs, every ditch between here and Khorgas, in a herd of sheep, in abandoned buildings, on the beaches of 4 different seas. I thought her untouchable, invincible, she'd carried me further than any car could.

She'd survived being strapped to vans, taxi roofs, stuffed in buses. She'd spent 4 nights on a completely different train as I impatiently awaited her return in Urumqi, sick with worry. She'd always come back in one piece, saying again and again, "If you're still in I'm in".

It was my fault for neglecting her. In the 4 years since I abruptly finished the big one, she'd only seen the occasional run up a hill or trip to the shop. A bike like that deserves better. She needed to be free.

As Flo and I moved across flats in Wakefield, she saw her chance. The new garage was tricky, and even though I swore I locked it right, I must have done it wrong. With the help of some lowlife thief, she made her escape in the dead of night.

I like to imagine you are out there plowing the country lanes of some beautiful hinterland. I hope whoever found you loves you like I did. I hope you still climb mountains. Please come back to me. 

The police were rubbish. I needed urgency, a chase scene, some CCTV footage, anything. Instead, a portly old community support officer showed up a day later and made a good show of dusting for prints. No one seemed to realise the love of my life was running away. 

Then Flo and I broke up, which is NOT a pattern, more of a coincidence, but of course now I'm in the midst of planning a big(ish) cycle. Turns out if I have large amounts of time to myself, this is what I like doing with it.

The Big(ish) Cycle

The details aren't super worked out, but the aim is to cycle from Paris to Barcelona over the summer holidays, because of course, I made it, I teach Maths now. Seems a shame to waste the 6 weeks off I get on anything but cycling a long way. Getting qualified has been a journey of its own - dealing with 150 hormonal teenagers problems every day is exhausting, and that's before you even start trying to explain how subtracting negative numbers work.

I moved schools in the summer though, which helped me put work stress into perspective. And I've taken my first class all the way from year 9 to graduation. Shout out to 11X1 for smashing their Maths GCSE. I may never have a class again who consistently meets my level of effort with more. I hope you think of our classes fondly. I hope you all find your own mountains to climb.

I'm still early in the planning phase, so please give me advice on getting to Paris, routes or places to stay, anything at all that will help me survive the summer heat. I've been stringing together some old worn out camp-gear, and bought a bike rack, slowly building the list of things I wished I'd had last time. I've also been diving into some old journals, rekindling my old nomadic spirit. I want to write about it again, but there's a job that's been hanging over my head for the past 4 years that I need to finish before I do. So here is my half promise - I will finish the end of the story about the big one before I start the new one. Watch this space.**

*I've got this bit where I'm obsessed with tangerines, making the kids see them as valuable currency. Then with each class I give out top tangerine of the week to the student who has impressed me the most. Teaching is all about having bits. Unfortunately, I am now a bit too obsessed with tangerines.

 ** Spoiler - I did not keep my promise.