Having consumed the traditional milky morning coffee with two rolls thickly coated with marmalade I left just after 10 am. to ride to Odense. As usual, I carried 4lbs/2kg of Abus locks to secure my mount against city theft. I compensated by taking only my saddlebag and left the huge sports bag at home. There was a noticeable light headwind building on the way but not too bad. Having purchased my goods I stabbed myself on a packaging staple outside the shop and bled all over the pavement! I took the clumsiness as a signal to enjoy a snack while I staunched the blood flow by applying compression with a tissue.
A white police[?] helicopter and sirens disturbed the peace as I navigated the complexities of the Odense cycle system. I rode via two dark tunnels and between a multitude of rather large sheds with small gardens. Not unlike British allotments, but these are more like miniature summer houses with bars. These are normally equipped with beer and snaps gardens with assorted plastic seating. Socializing is obviously more important than actually growing veg or even flowers.
The shed inhabitants have a nasty habit of parking on the narrow grass verges on either side of the [now much] narrower cycle paths and causing a mud bath. Though spacious, off-cycle-path parking is readily provided, these areas are often empty. Besides, parking properly might inhibit the easy carriage of heavy, beverage reinforcements to the drinking sheds.
I should also mention having to coax several bunches of pheasants out of my way to continue forward progress in the rural lanes. The pheasants are having their silly season. As are the magpies, but we wont dwell on their lurid, rural behaviour on the village green. Sunny at times but still rather cloudy for most of the day.
All this text to cover only one day's activities? If this gets any worse I shall have to join Twitter to practice my art of précis. Lets see now: Arose, muesli, walked, coffee, triked to Odense, shopped, swans, wayward blond, pheasants, home, 42 miles, showered. Will this do?
Are pictures allowed? A picture being worth at least 140 characters.[Allegedly] Why would anyone voluntarily imprison their thoughts in an undersized coffin? Are Iron Maidens the new, 21st century diary? Each word individually impaled on an evil, digital dictator's pike for all to see? Publish and be damned? Or publish and become an overnight [virtual] billionaire.
Tuesday 25th 41F, 5C, calm, very misty, still dark at 7.45 am.. The forecast is much like yesterday's but with even less wind. First frost due tomorrow morning. A Danish billionaire wants to build the first Danish gated community. Wouldn't a baseball bat and a Rottweiler be cheaper? Isn't it odd how different members of society 'enjoy' completely different freedoms and restrictions depending entirely on their status? I bet the gated community won't be built right beside a motorway for "better access to the global markets." Why are billionaires entitled to privacy and security but nobody else is? The most important question, I feel, is how will the billionaires avoid each other within their self-imposed, concentration camp. ;-)