ETA to China = 7 days. Lotsa stuff still to do, mostly bullshit admin plus all those things I'd been putting off. Up to now the move to China has been something that existing in the murky mists of future time, well outside my little brain's capacity to comprehend. But now it's 7 days. I can count em...
It feels like parachuting - you hang around in a an indeterminate space for an unknown amount of time and then WHOOOSH ground rush coming right atcha. If you're lucky you walk away.
Lots of sobering thoughts right now. F'instance, I've probably only got time for two bike rides. A Langster frame will be making the trip with me that I plan to bling to the max with cheap Chinese carbon. But when? Can't see me getting back on two wheels in my new guise as urban fixie rasclot for at least a month. A MONTH. I'll atrophy and then die horribly when I try to ride a bike with NO GEARS. But it will have (two) brakes; I'm not that cool.
Why not ride this weekend I hear you ask. Because her indoors' UK MTB swansong is to enter the Stilettos on Wheels women only (RACISTS) mountain bike race in Brighton next Saturday and guess who's pit bitching. 4 hour solo, which is a long ride for an old woman. From mid week I'll start honing her podium etiquette. So no pressure.
