Cruising around the coves of Cornwall


My Dahon Jetstream bike

We've just come back from a fabulous five days in Cornwall, where we got to give our new Dahon folding bikes a good test drive.

We covered 80-odd miles, crawling up the fearsome Cornish hills and then hurtling down the super-steep valleys around St Ives.

Our journeys included a ride from St Ives to the village of Zennor, followed by a very wet trip over the moors to Marazion station and then onwards to Penzance.


Our two bikes at Hell's Mouth

Our biggest ride was a 35 mile trip from St Ives to Godrevy Point and then on to Porthreath and back - knackering but great fun.

On the way home I managed to notch up a hair-raising top speed of 41 mph - the way the bike started to wobble furiously suggests that'll remain my top speed for some time!

The bikes performed brilliantly though. I can't recommend them enough, and being able to fold them up and simply shove then between the seats of a train is a blast!

Photos to follow soon!

Today I snarled and laughed at my stereo

You know how it is when a simple inanimate object can send you red-faced with rage?

Now, music's pretty important to me. I have the radio on, or play tunes all day and night when I'm working, so it's important to have a reliable, decent quality player that keeps me entertained when I'm working hard in my small office.

Sadly, my four year old Sony 'Mini Hi-Fi Component System' '(DHC-MD333 if you're interested) does none of these things.

Sure, the radio works just fine, as does the built in MiniDisc and cassette player, but the CD player is a nightmare. Touchy isn't the word.

Sometimes it will decide it simply doesn't agree with my taste and refuse point blank to play an album.

Other times, it likes a long 'warm up' period before electing to play a CD, with the disc audibly spinning around inside but no music forthcoming.

It can take anything from 20 seconds to several hours to start playing a CD (I know this because I put a CD in and forgot about it, and was surprised to hear music bursting out at 4am).

One way to speed its dithery way along is to give it a good old fashioned thump, lifting the box up an inch or so and crashing it back on the desk top. It may take two or three of these aggressive kabooms to get the song playing, but it invariably works.

Unfortunately, the thumping often results in other objects on the table getting knocked over, cups broken, tea spilt etc etc

Sometimes it likes to reorganise the playing order of a CD, while other times it likes to indulge in a bit of remixing, playing back random snatches of music on an infinite loop.

Occasionally, it plumps to play a CD at triple speed or (and this usually happens when I'm settled in a relaxing bath after a hard day) it endlessly plays the last three seconds of a tune.

The useless piece of shit drives me fucking mad.

So, today, I'm looking at it and cackling, "You're history chum!".

Yep, I'm off to buy a swanky new Onkyo player with a CD player, RDS radio and (best of all) a built in DAB tuner.

Sony! Your reign of terror is over!

Aaargh! My head!

Feast your eyes on this image and then be amazed to learn that Square A and Square B are exactly the same colour!



Don't believe me?

Reckon it's a con?

Well, here's the same image with a mask covering the rest of the scene:



Incredible, isn't it?

The optical illusion was created by Prof Adelson (M.I.T.) and you can see more examples of mind-boggling aaargh-my-head-hurts illusions here, here and here

But don't do it after a skinful of beer or mind bendng drugs!

My Big Chill 2005

With forty minutes between connections at Great Malvern from our London train to Ledbury, we decided to take a spin on our new folding bikes around the town.

Sadly, a few minutes into the ride and I realised that my pedal was seriously knackered, hanging off at a weird angle with the thread screwed.

The attentions of three taxi drivers and one pair of pliars failed to fix it, so we lobbed the bikes in the boot and took a cab ride to a self-proclaimed "specialist" bike shop.

I carried in my pedal-bereft bike, confident that their specialist expertise would have me back on the road in minutes.

Me: "Hi. Disaster! I'm miles from home and away for the weekend and the pedal's broken on my bike - so I need your help, please!"
Totally disinterested bloke: "it's fucked mate".
"What? is there nothing you can do? No replacement? No bodge?"
"No."
"Shit. Is there a cab office around here?!
"No"
"Have you a phone number of a taxi firm in the town?"
"No".

Suitably pissed off, I embarked on a high-speed uni-pedal hurtle back into town (reaching 20mph!) down a monster hill and then followed a lucky impulse to ask a a motorbike garage to have a go at repairing the bike. And the top fella did the business! Phew!

Suitably duo-pedalled, we propelled ourselves back to the station, got a train to Ledbury and then took on some challenging, thigh-straining hills en route to the site.



Delighted to find our tent already put up for us (thanks han and jan!), we quickly gorged on a heady cocktail of drink and drugs and headed into the beautiful valley below, ignoring the clink of the Pimms.

Drank some beers, watched the dying embers of the sun and relaxed into the dullness of St Etienne got us moving elsewhere.

Came back - suitably 'confused' - for Alex Petterson and Jim Cauty's (KLF) new project, Transit Kings.

Shook a leg to the Mad Professor Dub Show and then got a bit, err, lost for a few hours.

Sunday, chilled out at our big camp o'chums and enjoyed the glorious sunshine.

Hit the arena for some food mid-afternoon and heard some awful bland disco band who manage to stretch one piss weak idea of a song into a twenty minute drone-a-thon.



In eve watched the excellent The Beat, bumped into PK, shuffled about to Burt Latino, got pissed, did the Art Trail (which was great - the huge video of the dying wasp was strangely compulsive), felt a fucking awful cold coming on and retired to bed.

This morning: woke up feeling shit with a gnarly cold and minumum sleep after some tossers were bellowing their gobs off all night at the camp site.

Packed up, cycled into the delightful market of town of Ledbury and scoffed scones and tea before getting the train back to the grime of London.

The good bits of Big Chill: hearing some dub for a change, some decent bands, the weather, the location, the great crew of chums, the lazy chilled out day time vibe, Son Of Dave - what a star!

The bad bits: more corporate sponsorship appearing everywhere, the stifling air of middle class smugness, the feeling that - unlike Glastonbury - everyone's just pretending to be crayzee and wackeee for the weekend, the toilets that were absolutely fucking disgusting, more tent theft, more people and more massive gas-guzzling 4x4 and palatial motor homes.

Offline photos, bikes and Blagging Lizzy


Thursday's Offline at the Dogstar was a hoot - there was a busy crowd and the acts were excellent. And I got drunk.

Last week, I took delivery of my new folding bike - a groovy number going under the name of 'Dahon Jetstream P8' and sporting full suspension.
I've only gone for a small test ride with Em up to Brockwell Park, but I'll post up some photos and opinions soon - but so far, I'm very impressed.
I can't wait to take it on a train and pedal off from my destination!

I've also just posted up a new feature on the site, Blagging Lizzy, the audacious tale of how I managed to bluff my way into a major concert hall to see the mighty Thin Lizzy on a hand drawn ticket!