For some reason my Interphone GPS stopped working on my last visit. It could be something to do with dropping my helmet with it attached. So I had to shell out on a replacement. Fighting the temptation to buy the unit specifically designed for that helmet, which is nicely streamlined, I found I could purchase just the original bit I needed for less than half the price (and wouldn’t end up committed to that make of helmet when I decide to replace it). Also I bought new hand-guards for the bike – to keep off the wind and rain – in theory at least. Today’s visit was about fixing the latter in the darkness that is my municipal garage in Cambridge with a drill that is luckily still charged up six months later and trying to get the GPS to talk to its bluetooth companions afresh. Neither were straightforward. So my ride traced the figure of a stick insect.
I talked to H the other night about the idea of riding to Mongolia, having watched these people’s incredibly hard-core videos. I said I’d need a companion and 6 weeks (I was casting at straws). Having just looked at a map I am starting to regret ever having mentioned it. Look – if you zoom out a little bit from Cambridgeshire – the same map, the same world: