Percy Thrower is watching me

I love Jean, my mother-in-law.  But she is going nuts.  I stayed with her on Sunday evening and she has a heart of gold, made me a lovely dinner, did my washing and made me feel very welcome.  But she talks drivel and doesn’t listen to anything you say.  It drives my wife, Jo, bananas.  She has a hearing aid that I bought her ‘ears ago, but clearly never bothers to use it.  (She doesn’t have the internet so I can write this in safety).  So we were talking on Monday morning before I left for Shrewsbury and she was telling me that they do good glassmaking in Shrewsbury, and maybe I should buy some.  Right, I will cycle from Shrewsbury to John O’Groats with some crappy glass ornaments strapped to the bike.  She then started wittering on about the fact that Percy Thrower used to live in Shrewsbury and maybe I can look for some of his gardens or something.  If you who don’t know who Percy Thrower is, he used to be a famous gardener on TV (he died a few years ago).  But if you are probably between the ages of say 38 to 45, you’ll remember him as the gardener on Blue Peter, the children’s TV programme.  And if you are like me, you’ll remember him as the devastated gardener when the vandals trashed the Blue Peter Italian Sunken Garden, and remember thinking how funny that was.  I know, in hindsight, it sounds awful, but when you’re 10 or whatever I was, that was the talk of the playground.   And I know I am not alone here, because all my friends at school thought it was funny.

I don’t think I have a guilty character, I don’t feel guilt about stuff in the past, but every time I hear ‘Percy Thrower’ I have a little snigger, followed by an immediate pang on guilt.  So I left the lovely B&B in Shrewsbury this morning (highly recommended – called Ferndell) and started the relatively short day towards the North West.  Within 10 minutes, this is what I passed, and I just burst out with laughter…

…. and then came that inevitable pang of guilt!

Actually there are two things that make me feel guilty, and both are from Blue Peter when I was (I guess) around 10.  If you are a similar age to me, and I say the words ‘Joey Deacon’, then you know what I mean.  If you don’t, please skip this.  The fun we made of him has riddled me with guilt ever since.  I have demonstrated remorse, I have tried to tried to absolve myself by collecting for Scope (which used to be called The Spastics Society) and I have been a regular monthly donor for the last 20 years or so.  I realised the true extent of my guilt for making fun of Joey when, earlier this year, I entered the Ride London 100.  This is a 100 mile cycling road race following the route they used in the Olympics through London and then down to Box Hill and back.  I didn’t get an entry in the ballot so I got a charity entry (similar to the London Marathon).  Clearly there was only one charity to go for, but I couldn’t ask anyone to sponsor me because it was my remorse, not that of anyone else!  I even set up a Just Giving page here.  Please do not donate!  I sent this to my brother, Peter, and he wet himself.  This page is just for me to pay another £450 to Scope to continue my journey of absolution…  If you wish to donate to Scope, then please do, I even encourage you to do so, but not on my page.

Back to the ride, it was another beautiful sunny day, and this time it was completely flat.  Oh what joy!

I kept coming across water pumps and troughs by the side of the road, and next to each was a stone engraving dedicating the pump to someone who died.

About an hour after leaving Shrewsbury I heard a cyclist behind me speed up to me shouting ‘Zubin!’.  It was a guy I met on day two between Fowey and Mortonhampstead, who is also cycling to John O’Groats. 

We cycled, we chatted, we stopped for a coffee, but clearly I hadn’t a clue what his name was.  Just as we finished the coffee, having been cycling and chatting for probably a couple of hours, during which he had called me by my name throughout, I had to come out with the inevitable “sorry, what’s your name again?”.   I am rubbish with names. 

I found it a very different experience compared with cycling on my own.  When I’m solo I end up thinking, there’s usually music going through my mind, and I tend to stop all the time just to look at things or maybe take a picture.  But when you’re cycling with someone else, it feels completely different.  I covered the miles much more quickly but, as you can probably see from today’s entry in this blog, don’t take as many pictures.  I enjoyed cycling with Tony (I am writing his name down here so I don’t forget), but overall prefer cycling on my own.  I’ll meet him later in the trip probably around Keswick or further north, and I'll no doubt enjoy it.

From Shropshire into Wrexham in Wales, and then into Cheshire.  On cue, the first Ferrari I have seen on this trip went past – a white 458 Italia convertible.  Very Cheshire.

Tony lost his water bottle on a bumpy road, so that was a good excuse to pop into a bike shop and look at come shiny stuff…

By now the scenery was beginning to change, from beautiful countryside, to countryside + industrial works. 

Finally got to Frodsham, near to where I am staying.  I was conscious I have probably brought a bit too much stuff, so off to the post office, I bought a box, filled it with surplus stuff and posted it home.  I was amazed it came to 1/2kg. 

And then off to a small village, where I am staying in a pub tonight.  It has been a pretty short and easy day today, I am preparing myself for the big hills which will come over the next few days, particularly as I move into the Lake District.

Here’s today’s route.

The summary at the bottom of the map sums up my ride today - no achievements, an easy day.