The Sun Rising

Saturday morning: I woke up at 8:45am after a less than restful night's sleep, as I was feeling "weird" - I went to bed feeling a weird taste at the back of my throat and a stomach that felt unsettled, but not actual indigestion. As with most Saturdays, I battled with the thought of skipping my weekly CoBAM ride - and then decided to go - mainly because I knew I was going to skip next Saturday's ride, and a break of 3 weeks would be too long, especially when I was finally seeing a perceptible improvement!

Minor hiccups (and delays) notwithstanding, I made it to the rendezvous with 5 minutes to spare. The ride was good - the weather prediction was of short spells of heavy-ish rain, followed by high winds, but instead for the first phase of the ride there was neither - it wasn't even as chilly as expected.

In fact, the sun was so strong, this was the first Saturday ride when the sun was so low it was getting into my eyes (a reminder that winter is coming!), forcing me to tilt my head forward when riding to let the top rim of my sunglasses cut out the glare of the sun - even at 11am!

The "observed" part of the ride ended at our planned destination, Avoca at Newcastle. We were the second pair of observed riders to arrive, and we completed the debrief outside the restaurant, at our bikes, before heading inside.

As we entered inside, a song kicked in on the PA/ambient music system of the restaurant.

A song I didn't know the title of, or even most of the words - only the refrain: "It's just the sun rising, it's shining". It was a song from a mixtape I grew up with, titled - "Disco hits 1989-90"

The whole experience of the sun in my eyes through most of the morning ride kinda engulfed me.

After brunch at Avoca, we headed on for the next leg of the ride - when the predicted weather actually caught us, with a 2 minute shower, which cleared up as quickly as it arrived, and finally a single gust of crosswind when we passed newtonards on the way to crawfordsburn - a gust so strong it actually blew my magnetic tank bag off the tank and onto my right arm - thankfully it was on a straight stretch so I was able to pop it back into position and ride on without as much as slowing down.

The song was playing on loop on my head all afternoon, and the first thing I did when I got home was to try and look for it. First on my phone - where I was surprised it didn't exist. Which meant the last time I had heard the song was on that cassette - so at least 39 years ago! I tried duckduckgo's search, google's search, youtube's search, and finally as a last resort, google gemini. It took FOUR prompts for Gemini to get it, but given my past experience and every search engine leading me to Bob Marley's Sun is Shining, that's still a marked improvement!

• "A song with the main line "the sun is shining it's rising" from the late 80s/early 90s"
• "No, it's not Baker Street"
• "Male vocals with a female voice making some unintelligible rhythmic sounds"
• "Definitely nothing to do with Bob Marley"

And... bingo!

Liked, saved to playlist, and cast to the music system on loop on full blast for the next 2 hours until we left for dinner (coincidentally, about 3/4th of the way to our friend's place at banbridge was common with my morning ride!).

Now that I think back to that mixtape, some of its songs seem to be following it around! It was literally the previous day (Friday evening!) that another one of the songs from the cassette played in Home Bargains when I was picking up bird food. Can't remember which song, because now that "The Sun Rising" is looping in my head (and right now, on youtube!) I can't think back. Was it "Chocolate Box"? "Walking on Thin Ice"? I can't say now, It could have been something different altogether. That cassette was never in my top 10, nor was this song among my favourites from it. I know my favourites were towards the end of side B, and this was near the middle of side B. Weird.

Interestingly, Gemini's response once I confirmed it had got the right song felt spot on:

That is such a classic! "Sun Rising" by The Beloved (released in 1989 on their album Happiness) is widely regarded as one of the defining tracks of the late-80s acid house and ambient dance scene.

About the Track

• The Sound: Driven by Jon Marsh's smooth, chilled-out male vocals and backed by that famous looped female vocal sample. The rhythmic female sound in the background was sampled from a recording of 11th-century composer Hildegard von Bingen, performed by the early music group Gothic Voices (specifically soprano Emily Van Evera).

• The Meaning: The song captures the blissed-out, serene feeling of watching the dawn break after an all-night rave or night out, celebrating warmth, light, and new beginnings.

"The sun rising on a beautiful day

The sun rising on a beautiful day..."

— The Beloved ("Sun Rising", 1989)

IPSGA

I was riding pillion on a motorbike. It was a light, sporty middleweight, painted black. I didn't know the rider. He was following another bike, quite similar (perhaps even identical - I couldn't tell from where I was sat!). That bike was being ridden solo, again by someone I didn't know.

We were going through a residential area, at considerable (but legal) speed. I was extremely nervous though. For one, he was all over the place. At one point, he was riding on a cycling track instead of the road. I saw the end of the cycling track coming up. Between the cycling track and the road was a grassy area, lined with trees on the right. I was scared we were going to crash, but didn't move for fear of unsettling the bike.

We didn't crash - he expertly turned the bike at the right moment to use a driveway that cut across the grass, and an adjoining area which was basically mud from where the grass had been ripped off, presumably from whoever used that driveway, while turning on to the road. We continued at the same speed on the road, which gently curved to the right while going slightly downhill.

Slightly ahead, as the road straightened out, we passed a boy who had stopped his cycle on the footpath to talk to another boy who was standing on a pedestrian island. Again, I was very nervous as the rider didn't slow down at all. 

A few seconds later, the rider we were following pulled into a petrol station and we followed him in. We stopped and before I even dismounted the bike I told him that was unacceptably dangerous riding. He was surprised and asked me to explain. I broke down both the situations and told him both were extremely dangerous, besides riding on the cycle track being downright illegal. 

He asked me how I would evaluate each situation and what I would do differently. 

I mentioned the "IPSGA" framework used by the IAM (Institute of Advanced Motorcyclists) and broke down each of the alphabet in the acronym:

I = information. What information is available to assess the safety of the situation and what hazards may present themselves 

P = position. how do I position the bike within the legally available space on the road to minimise risk 

S = speed. what speed is appropriate for the situation approaching

G = gear. which gear should the motorbike be in to maximise flexibility for the situation 

A = acceleration. at what stage is it safe to accelerate and how much acceleration is appropriate 

And that's when I woke up. 

43

another year done. this one flew by, but in some ways barely passed at all. last year, mom was here in Belfast. After seeing mom off to Mumbai (from Heathrow) I was able to travel twice to Mumbai - for a month in October and another month around Christmas/New year.

Christmas/New year was super busy with so much stuff happening (and I think I also worked for a bit? Can't even remember now!) that it was gone in the blink of an eye (and loads of partying - and Desiree and Tony getting married!). The October trip was noteworthy too, as marked my first proper motorbike trip on Carly (beyond goa!).

That was the eventful bit of my last year. Things went rapidly downhill once back in Belfast. Everything from health, vehicles, even stuff at home (I tried my hand at some DIY plumbing that predictably went wrong, and there is now a massive patch of water damage that I have no idea how to fix!).

On the positive side though, I did sign up for the IAM RoadSmart membership, and did a good couple of months of twice-weekly rides, before summer trips kinda took priority - I still try to make at least one ride a week, but it's been slow (almost painstakingly slow!) progress.

And yes, I started going to the gym. I was never a fan of gym, but I am currently in a state where I am so immobile my body was shutting down. Gym has helped with that - but it's still a bit of a struggle finding the time and energy to be regular.

Everything else has been pretty much treading water - or worse, desperately trying not to sink.

And yes, even that can get quite overwhelming. It is a stark and almost menacing reality that a single ill considered decision can take me out of action for days or weeks. Thankfully the only time I was out of action for weeks was last year - but the odd series of bad days is a warning that I cannot be complacent despite gradual improvement.

I try not to bring myself down with the thought of it but I am increasingly drawn to memories of good times more than the actual prospect of good times.

All said and done though, it was a relief to pull off one last vacation around my birthday. Oslo - Svalbard - Oslo. It was great, and I was able to enjoy it with enough planning, not as much activities as past me (or basically anyone my age) would, but still doing much more than nothing. Svalbard (Longyearbyen) was everything it was touted to be, and more. At the end of 5 days though, I think we kinda ran out of thins I could do, and so it was the perfect duration. I did crash for the last 2 days in Oslo, but given how my year has been, that was fine. In comparison, even my October trip to Kodaikanal involved at least a full day of rest after a full day of activity, so there's definitely been a small but perceptible improvement.

I must say though, my 43rd year has been a year of mostly being almost alone. Mostly just Shruti and me, but also times of being truly alone. It's supposedly not good for me, but I don't feel it yet. Only time will tell.

Anyway, I don't have many plans for 44. Just hoping to continue this slow upward trajectory. No goals (OK, maybe the IAM qualification!), no bucket list.

It was weird when I spoke to a friend recently and explained to him that I have given up 99% of the things I used to do. Definitely an exaggeration, but I was even more taken aback when he asked me what's the 1% I haven't given up.

I think the only thing I've not given up throughout this year has been trying. That's my last 1%, the one thing I absolutely refuse to give up on. I know it sounds pretty privileged given all that I've done over the past year - I know people with perfectly good health who do even less - but I was never one to compare myself with others. It was always only my past self that mattered. And that's the most humbling part of it all. Accepting that it is going to be slow and steady, and anything more aggressive will simply result in reverting to an even worse situation. Those are the days when I am literally hanging on to that last 1%. Get out of bed. Get moving. Move slowly, but move.

All said and done though, I am happy. It's a different happiness, a happiness I've had to search for, build up bit by bit. But it's there. And I look forward to preserving, strengthening, and building on top of it.

As the cliche'd phrase goes - happy birthday!

The weird restaurant with alive crustaceans

I was riding Carly. I was at the d-mart signal, the one that was next to the police station, planning to take a right at the junction towards IC colony on link road. The signal turned green, but as I was about to turn right I saw link road was closed with metal barricades, with a sign saying parking only. it seemed like there was some sort of event happening further down link road, and the road was closed to provide motorbike parking for people attending the event. while the side of the road that was closed was for oncoming traffic, I decided to not bother trying to go that route, and went straight from the signal instead, taking the inside road to IC Colony. As soon as I got through the junction, I noticed a bunch of policemen stopping vehicles. Before they could stop me, I approached them and asked if the road going ahead was open as I had to go to IC Colony. They said yes it's open so I rode ahead. Instead of taking the main SV road, I took the turn into the shortcut through the slums. The start of the lane was as I remembered it, but then it got much narrower and there were loads of motorbikes parked, leaving barely enough room for me to get through. At one point, Carly even scraped a parked motorbike, but it was at low speed and I was riding cautiously so hopefully no damage done (the bit that scraped was the left passenger footrest). but ahead, the space got even tighter - so tight that it felt like I was riding though a house or something - the roofs of the structures on both sides met over me, and while there was still daylight filtering through from somewhere, it was barely broad enough for Carly!

The road then literally ended at a door. double doors, rather - wooden, and perfectly painted a glossy white. Thankfully, the doors weren't locked, and I could see one side was ajar. Not sure if I should continue riding ahead, I stopped, dismounted, and opened the door to look inside. It was a house, or a restaurant - definitely not the road through the slum! The room I was in had a kitchen to one side, and a lady was preparing something. THe lady asked me if I had a minute and if I could help her with something. I told her I was just passing through on my motorbike and somehow got lost. She told me she'll guide me through but I had to just do her one favour.

She was preparing some sort of dish - it was a pie-shaped thing with fish inside it, which she topped with a disc of rolled dough. On the side of the plate there were some sort of crustaceans - maybe large prawns, or maybe langoustines (I don't remember seeing claws though!). I assumed they were cooked, but it was hard to tell from their appearance. The pie and its lid were definitely raw though. I asked her was the pie thing was and she said "it's a chapati" which struck me as weird, as the dough was white like refined flour, not brown like wholewheat flour, I didn't ask any more questions though as she handed me the plate and asked me to check with the person in the next room that it was plated correctly.

I entered the next room while the lady went off back to where she was working, seemingly to plate another portion. The next room seemed unoccupied, although there was a large table, with a few places set with cutlery - and one place was set with a plate as well, quite similar to what I was holding.

As I couldn't see anyone, I set the plate down and walked to a doorway or passage in the corner to check if someone was in the next room. I saw someone there and asked them if they could come to the table to check if the dish was plated correctly. She asked me to bring the plate over instead. As i picked up the plate, I noticed the crustaceans were alive - and in fact they were twitching their legs and moving their tentacles/feelers. It really creeped me out and I set the plate down hurriedly, dropping the crustaceans onto the table as I did so.

That's when I realized I had picked the plate which was already set at the table, instead of the one I was supposed to get checked. However, the crustaceans on that plate were moving as well, and I found it too creepy to pick that plate up. Instead, I did my mest to get the crustaceans that I had dropped from the other table, back on to the plate. It was a little difficult, as I didn't want to touch them, and I also didn't want ot dirty the cutlery. I did my best to pick them up with two knives, handling them as delicately as I could to not injure or kill them.

That when I noticed the crustaceans on the other plate were trying to get onto the table as well. I was at my wits end, thinking there's no way I could undo the mess being created.

And that's when I woke up.

the problematic motorbike ride

I was out on my motorbike for a ride. It was a Saturday morning ride with "CoBAM" (ie City of Belfast Advanced Motorists). We were midway through the ride, at a break, when my "observer" (basically the person I was paired with for my ride) asked me a few questions about the bike. Like when were the tyres, brakes, etc serviced. He asked me to press the front brake lever all the way in, and to my surprise, I was actually able to! I told him that's weird and has never happened before. He asked me to press the brake hose with my hand. Strangely enough, the brake hose was soft and squishy, and when I pressed it, it was more like a rubber garden hose than a brake hose! He said that's the problem, there's air in the brake hose. He said the brake should be bled and topped up with fresh hydraulic oil. I explained the braking system of my bike, that it has a combined braking system, and that the brake bleeding procedure is a complex 5-step process that needs to be repeated multiple times to work. Also, I didn't have any of the tools for it.

I suggested simply topping up the front brake system, and squeezing out the air, instead of bleeding the whole system, as a quick fix to be able to ride the bike till I got home. I had a screwdriver on my keychain (fun fact: that keychain was purchased in August 2021, when my previous bike's rear brake had jammed locked, and purchased the screwdriver-keychain as it was the only suitable tool available at the petrol pump bang opposite where the bike had jammed!). Opened the reservoir and it was completely dry. 

I walked to the nearest petrol pump and purchased a bottle of hydraulic fluid, and filled the reservoir full. Then closed the reservoir and we both tilted the bike to the right to give it the best chance of draining down. The plan was when the bike was tilted, I'd pump the rear brake pedal, which would pump the front brake system, from the opposite end to the lever, forcing air out and pulling hydraulic fluid in. Unfortunately, we tilted the bike too far and it actually tipped over - right on to me!

Thankfully I was not completely pinned down and I was able to wriggle out without any injury - we then got the bike upright, and decided to try a different approach.

And that's when my alarm went off, and I woke up - an hour before I was supposed to head out on my Saturday morning CoBAM ride!

Thankfully, no technical issues on the ride, but I must admit I was a little nervous when I performed the "rolling brake test" as I headed down the driveway!

ps: I forgot to note this earlier, but in my dream there was also a drawing pin stuck right in the centre of my bike's brand new front tyre! I remembered it as I walked past my bike in the driveway today, and felt the urge to check the front tyre!

Speedo Error

I recently calibrated my motorbike against GPS because my speedometer had stopped functioning on a 1200km ride, so I needed to have an idea of the speed from the tachometer. After 12 years and 150000+km of believing 5000 rpm in 5th gear was 80 km/h (the indicated speed on the speedo, when it was functioning), I was confronted by the fact that it was actually only 71 km/h! My first reaction was "it feels like my entire life has been a lie" 😂

ps: this was another forgotten draft... from March 2024! Strangely enough, Carly's tachometer (in fact, the entire meter console) failed a few months later. as of now it has a working backlight but only indicates high-beam, neutral and turn signals. I now adjust my speed based on the sound of the engine, and my biggest surprise was looking at my GPS speed and realizing I ride faster by sound... about 10 km/h faster than I think I am!

the great road trip

2025 has been a rough year. I've had plenty of time off work, but it was never by choice - always because I couldn't work. to an external observer, both probably look the same... but as the battle is one that is largely internal to me, what's in my head probably matters more than what I appear to be doing.

two weeks off work. it was planned so that it should be more than enough. it should make me feel completely unpressurized in any sense. and when I left home, that's exactly how I felt. leaving at 9:30am (well-rested but actually sleepless from excitement!) meant I'd face the full blast of the October sun... and I did. by sunset I had barely covered a third of the way to goa. but my strategy paid off - taking enough breaks kept my energy levels going, and even with some really bad roads I was able to ride through the night and reach goa at 8:30am. 23 hours! that kinda set the pace for the rest of the trip. I rested that day and the next, before setting off for my next destination, bangalore. once again without adequate sleep, just 3 hours, and a very arbitrary route: I ignored Google maps and retraced the route I took 12 years ago, in October 2013. I reached bangalore at a little before midnight, with my bike giving me a couple of hints that all was not well. 

the next day, I spent the morning trying to locate a good mechanic to solve what didn't seem like a trivial problem, but when I set off, carly simply died on me and refused to start. thankfully not even 100 feet from a mechanic who worked on the bike for an hour but took half a day to answer my call, leading to me only collecting it at sunset.

he reassured me the problem had been fixed, but I had massive doubts as what he described as the problem definitely didn't match the symptoms I saw the previous day, but did match with it not running at all.

I left at midnight, practically to the minute. 

In hindsight, it seems foolhardy, given my misgivings, but this is probably just one of the many questionable decisions I took during those two weeks. 

thankfully, it played out. the bike ran fine, only giving occasional starting trouble... until I had a surprise when the chain skipped the sprocket halfway through kodaikanal ghat! however it was so loose I was able to pop it on by hand, and I was in kodaikanal by noon. located another mechanic, and while I was explaining the problem I noticed the chain had basically lost a link! regarding the electrical gremlins, this one said there's no problem, I simply need to use the electrics sparingly. obviously not the case, but I decided to take my chances and ride on. I decided to swap out carly's front tyre though, despite the mechanic insisting it was good to use... and from kodai, carly played ball, until literally 500 metres from Harshad's farm! after a couple of half hearted attempts to get her going, I called for help and Harshad towed the bike to the parking area a short walk from his property. we left carly there overnight. it was time to forget about the journey and enjoy the destination.

and enjoy I did. Just two and a half days on his farm gave me the shot in the arm I so desperately needed. the sounds of nature, his pets, the home grown and the home cooked food, being surrounded by people who were running on a slower clock than urban India, had its desired effect. Come Monday morning, I was ready to begin my journey back home. and then carly sprung another surprise - the choke cable, essential to starting, and in case of uneven running, keeping her going, gave way. we managed to get carly started using a pair of pliers. the ride to kodaikanal was wet... nay, soaking, and by the time we reached the only dry bits were inside my tank and saddle bags. kodai was dry and warm though, and the mechanic listened to my list of gripes and did his best. I also took the opportunity to give carly fresh brake pads and swap out the other cables... again despite the mechanic saying the existing ones had plenty of life in them.

Harshad and me at the mechanic in Kodai, just before I set off to return

a relaxed lunch later, I bid farewell to Harshad and was on my way. carly ran fine until almost midnight, when, right after shruti insisted I not ride all night, carly stopped and refused to start. thankfully I was just 3km from a major town, and was able to hitch a ride to the main bus stand opposite which I got a hotel room really cheap. 

the next morning was spent trying to find a competent mechanic, and once I did, carly started without a hitch. a common pattern was becoming apparent. a night's rest seems to sort things out. that's a decent strategy, but I was only 50km from bangalore and had plenty of advice regarding which mechanics could help. so that's what I did. the first mechanic outright refused, and when pressed further, pointed to another karizma (a white one, at that!) which he claimed was lying in his workshop for 6 months awaiting spares. I decided to call it a day. the next morning, I headed to another highly recommended mechanic, intending to arrive right as they opened. unfortunately, I was told the exact same thing. 

I had a tough decision to make. ship carly from bangalore or ride on. it was only Wednesday morning, so I had 5 days of riding to cover 1000 km, and going by the previous whole day of riding, carly could be expected to do 350km without a hitch. 

another questionable decision, but I trusted my gut. I was on the road by 2pm and this time voluntarily picked a hotel at 10pm after covering 250+km.

feeling heartened, I set off the next morning, expecting to cover half the distance to Mumbai - a reasonable (or even conservative) goal, given how carly had been riding. but it was not to be. 

I took a long evening break with the intention of riding till midnight before calling it a night. but carly had other plans. she died once less than 50 metres from the restaurant parking lot, and again another 500 metres later. I saw a hotel opposite where I was on the highway and decided to not push my luck and call it a night at 8pm.

that evening was spent nervously consulting Google maps. it was Thursday night and I had 3 days to cover 450 km. a fairly achievable proposition. but there were questions. I could not ignore carly's tantrums getting more frequent. I decided to keep going the next morning and play it by ear. I skipped breakfast and just headed out, on a limb and a prayer.

within an hour, the indications were plain to see - carly was getting increasingly difficult to start and was dying more frequently, and within an hour of getting going. 

on a whim, when I was passing the next city, karad, I asked a motorcyclist where I'd find trucks parked. he directed me to a spot near the petrol pump, a few hundred metres away, on the highway. I asked two travel and tours companies - they advertised bus services but I hoped they could connect me with a trucker. the first one refused, but the second one agreed. he agreed to put carly on a bus to Mumbai that evening and me on a seat on the same bus. 

I heaved a sigh of relief. 

the road trip was over for me. I pushed carly to her limits and found the limit of my risk appetite (though not my physical ability). 

those 5 hours of waiting for the bus, sitting at the bare shop of the tour operator, gave me another chance to think. and think I did. 

I concluded that this trip has been a success. 

for the first time in a year and a half, my body and mind were not the limit. 

I'm obviously nowhere near my previous level of abilities, but this was reassuring. I still had it. I can still do things I enjoy. and I did enjoy those two weeks. as Harshad said when I called him to inform him of my decision: "I sense a long blog post coming up" 

this is the long blog post. but it's not long enough. there was so much more to these two weeks. to reduce it to the three way tug of war between body, mind and machine would be to lose the essence of this adventure.

this, though, is where words fail me. emotions and feelings wash over me and leave me bedraggled, like a shell on the shore. 

all I can say is it feels great to be alive and here. it feels great to feel great. heaven knows I've missed that feeling long enough. life has been reduced to going through the motions for long enough for me to lose sight of it. but just like a shell on the shore, I am not impervious to my circumstances. this post is a reminder that no matter what the struggle, I still have it in me. 

before I prepare to touch down in Ireland and be reunited with shruti and resume my "life as usual", I am going to close my eyes for a few minutes and let those feelings wash over me again. soak through my very being. let my soul absorb as much of it as I can, like a sponge.

it might sound clichéd but it rings true: four wheels move the body, two wheels move the soul! 

cycling for charity

This month, as I end up doing every summer, I embarked on a charity fundraiser. My cause this time was Cancer Research UK. The challenge is to cycle 300 miles in June (and obviously raise some money).

The last time I took up a cycling challenge, was in April 2021 when I decided to cycle 410 kilometres in a month to raise money for people displaced by climate change. I didn't even have an e-bike back then, and the office was closed for the pandemic so all my cycling had to be done in my free time. We were also in the middle of closing the purchase of our home and then moving to it, so it was a lot to balance! In fact, I'm surprised I got to 400km the first 3 weeks of that month - I was literally going to do 10km in laps of the waterworks (a circular park barely 2km from home) on the last week but that was right in the middle of packing and moving and was obviously impossible. I did set a personal record for longest ride (Belfast to Moira, 70km round trip) which I've only bested once (the around mumbai ride in November 2021, a cool 107 km!)

Anyway, back to this month. 482 km isn't that much more than 410, and it seemed somewhat achievable when I signed up - I was hoping to get the miles in after work, and given I'll have to a minimum of 6 miles (the return trip to work) thrice a week anyway, that'd be quarter of my distance already done and dusted. My strategy was to do two longish rides after work, keeping the middle day strictly a commute, and then doing one more ride over the weekend. It seemed like a decent strategy as I managed 70 miles in the first week, which put me slightly below but close enough to the target.

And then, week 2 happened. Cycling through an unknown neighbourhood after work, two boys accosted me and tried to take my cycle off me. The standoff lasted almost 15 minutes, and left me very shaken. The next day involved a ride to the police station and a few hours spent submitting my report of the incident. Since then, I have been struggling when it comes to getting out and riding. Even though I know it was an isolated incident and I have been cycling around equally if not worse neighbourhoods, in the dark, etc., I can't shake that fear of the incident recurring. After that day, I've mostly simply taken roundabout routes home, avoiding unfamiliar roads. In fact, I've even taken to doing laps of the waterworks, although I don't think I've managed 10 km.

Last weekend was the longest ride of this month, one that has actually been on my bucket list for a while, even though I wasn't sure if I was fully up for it: Belfast to Bangor (and back) by the coastal path. It was scenic, and Sunday was a beautiful day for it, even though I started at almost 3pm, which was much later than I had planned. Still, just 38 miles, so not a significant dent towards my target.

As of today, I have 6 days and 99 miles left. I really don't know how I'm going to achieve it. I'm not feeling my best to begin with, which makes it even harder. Let's see.

Anyway, while cycling is one of the goals, the other one is funraising. So if I've not lost all my readers by now, here's how you can donate:

https://fundraise.cancerresearchuk.org/page/krist0ph3r

The anniversary adventure

23rd December marked 7 years since we got married. I still remember some of that day very well, although given the amount of photographs, facebook statuses and other digital evidence I have of the day, it's hard to separate what I remember organically from what I remember digitally. It's true though that the statuses and photos and videos and whatnot are linked to feelings, feelings I can still feel inside me from that eventful day. And I guess one of the overwhelming feelings I have from that day was of adventure!

My life 7 years ago was definitely crazier and more unpredictable than what it is now, and while I remember the feelings and even feel the motivation to do the same things, it's almost like something's holding me back. It's like, every time I sit at my couch and look at my motorbike parked outside my front door, I think, I could just go for a spin in the middle of the night? Only difference is, there's no crazy friends to meet for tea at 1am, no all-night chai and bun-maska stalls, the waterfront feels boring, and I should really be going to bed.

Anyway.

On the 23rd, I sneaked out of the house to buy mutton from St George Market. I thought Shruti was still asleep and wouldn't notice. Turns out she did. Does that count as adventure? When was the last time I tried to sneak out of the house without telling Shruti? Must be years!

We then changed and headed out for lunch at the "Dirty Duck", a rather nice (and award-winning, it turns out!) restaurant at Holywood. I didn't really do any research at all, Shruti had done the reservation, and I was thankful I had stuck on navigation before we set off, because I wouldn't had found it - I had no idea Holywood had such a nice seafront, much less that the dirty duck was situated right off it!

Lunch was great, and we were so stuffed we decided to walk around before heading back. We walked to the high street, stopped at Cafe Nero for a coffee, and walked around the town centre and back to where we parked the bike. Wore our helmets, gloves, and was about to set off when I had an "oh no" second: I had popped the keys to the ignition into the locked fairing pocket!

I tried jimmying the lock open with our house keys (yes, thankfully we carried a spare set, there have been plenty of times we didn't because I have one set on the bike keys - in fact evern today, Shruti grabbed the spare set as we were getting out the door, "just in case"!), to no avail. Someone was unlocking their car in front of us, and we asked them if they had a screwdriver. Strangely enough, they said they didn't, but they checked the boot and found a first aid kit, which had a pair of scissors - that didn't work either. In the meantime, Shruti called the nearest locksmith (a half an hour's walk, but still in Holywood) but there was no answer. I then called the next nearest locksmith, but he said they don't do emergency callouts and asked us to call the locksmith we had just called.

After one last call to the nearby locksmith, we decided to head home and fetch the duplicate key instead. Luckily for us, we were just a 5 minute walk from the train station (we had just walked past it), and the next train was due in another 15 minutes. We booked a single ticket for Shruti and a return for myself. Back in Belfast, the quicket means of transport was actually the bus, so we took the bus home - again, a single ticket for Shruti and a day pass for me. Back home, I picked up the powerbank and charging cable, headphones, a bottle of water, and headed back out to catch the same bus that had just dropped us home, headed back the other way. Ran to the station, and caught the next train with just 4 minutes to spare! I was glad the timing worked out perfectly, and also that the key opened the lock, despite my attempts at forcing it open with a scissors!

Given the sort of thing that just happened, I was super cautious as I put the keys away and got ready to start the bike, conscious that all 3 sets of keys were now on me, and there was no plan b!

On the way home, I did stop for groceries, and also picked up a drill machine from Jay before finally getting home around 9pm - 4 hours after I locked the keys in the bike.

The rest of our anniversary was fairly mundane, sitting around with Shruti, watching youtube and talking about stuff - enough adventure for today!

It may feel strange, but less than a downer, I felt it was actually nice to have a bit of adventure on our anniversary. We had a good time, but we also took the rough with the smooth, and all's well that ends well. Which kinda sums up our relationship too.

Happy anniversary to us!

new wheels I can't ride

 yes, it happened. I own a motorbike. again. it's a honda. again. it's even a pan european. again.

I still can't explain how it happened. after my accident, it took me over a month and a half before I was in good enough shape to even get back to cycling. and even when I did, it was a struggle. I spent over a month driving to work.

the last weekend before I gave up the courtesy car, I spent half the insurance payout, exchanged my 5 year old full size cycle, and brought myself a full-size ebike.

I told myself, this will be my vehicle of choice for the foreseeable future.

except that... a few weeks later, I fell sick.

and that's when I realized, cycling's great when you're healthy, but simply impossible when you're battling an infection. and my infection was bad.

what started off as an idle thought of getting another bike, now had a note of urgency to it.

truth be told (and this might sound like blasphemy to people who know me well), I'd have been equally happy with a car. but it's just the way things happened. the car thing simply didn't work out, and the bike thing simply did. in fact, I put way more time and effort into car shopping, while pan europeans seemed to be following me around!

anyway. long story short... it's in the driveway. it hasn't left the driveway yet.

I know this isn't the usual me. this wasn't me when I purchased Vicki - that day, I literally rode around the parking lot because I didn't have the tax and insurance to be able to take it out on the road!

which also reminds me, I didn't post a photo of the day I purchased Vicki:

2nd September 2019

Compare that with today (I won't count yesterday as the tax hadn't been paid yet, and gov.uk doesn't allow you top register the purchase/sale of a vehicle after 7pm!) - I dusted the bike, then sprayed it with muc-off and hosed it down, cleaned the inside of the panniers, even fitted the phone mount.

But I didn't ride it. I didn't even sit on it.

Was it because I'm unwell? I guess to some extent, yes - I am far from fit at the moment. My health keeps going between "I should be good to go back to work tomorrow" and coughing fits that make me half wish for a quick and painless end. But I'm not too unwell to take a spin around the block at least.

No, that's not it. I'm still not ready to face the world on a motorbike.

I'm just too nervous at intersections, inclines, uneven surfaces, around vehicles, and all possible  permutations and combinations of them. And worst of all, while I've spent years riding around on worse combinations, the trauma from the accident has left me extremely nervous about getting back on the world on a motorbike. I'm fine on a cycle - in fact, the day I fell sick, I had cycled some 45km, and literally got home because I was hungry and wanted to eat something home cooked! But there's something about getting back on a motorbike, and riding it out, inevitably passing that junction where the accident happened, that fazes me.

I know I'll have to come to terms with it at some point.

I know I'll have to get back to riding again.

But for now, I'm not sure if I'm ready.

I have a feeling she is, though.

16th October 2023

Introducing: Lisa, my 2002 Honda Pan European ST1300.

crash and burn

it was tuesday. i rode my motorbike to work, because i had cycled to work on monday, and felt two days in a row would be too much to handle. and monday was a lot of cycling, as not only did I have an eye checkup after work (all clear, yay!), but also did grocery shopping, and at a store that wasn't exactly on the most efficient route home.

so yes, it was tuesday. i was a little low on energy. a friend who volunteers with citizen sea reminded me of today's meetup after work, at bangor, which I had completely forgotten about. If I had remembered it in advance, I'd have definitely planned my day better. but anyway, since I had ridden the motorbike to work, I could make it - so I told her I would be there.

as I got through the day I felt like I wasn't as high on energy as I'd have liked to be and decided it's better I head home after work instead. I wasnted to sleep early that night, so I made myself a decaf at my desk instead of my usual 3:30pm capuccino from the cafeteria. for some reason, I simply didn't enjoy the decaf - I literally was nursing it till 6pm when I chucked it into the sink and decided to go home. as I packed my stuff into my motorbike, I decided to take my office laptop home, as I was planning to finish converting my rig to work with the office laptop (I had just ordered a USB C to HDMI adaptor so I could use both screens with the laptop). I also thought to myself, I'm better off putting everything into the topbox as I planned to park the bike in the shed, from where it's hard to access the panniers.

It had been raining all day, but it had stopped by the time I left office. I called shruti and asked if there's anything we needed. she said nope (when I got home, it turns out she forgot we needed milk), so I took the direct route home, the shortest way. at one of the junctions, I usually decide whether to go straight or take a left, depending on which traffic light is green. today, the one for the left was green, so I took that one. a couple of minutes later, I was at a junction. The traffic lights were all unlit. It seems they were not working.

There were two cars ahead of me. The furthest car literally waited a few minutes before finally getting a chance to get through the junction. I remember waiting behind, engine running, for what seemed like an eternity.

I remember thinking to myself: if I had gone traight I'd have been home by now!

My next thought was: if it's so hard to get through this junction, I could just turn around and take the other one.

I don't know what stopped me from doing that. I was in no hurry to get home, that was just an idle thought, and maybe that first car got through the junction before I could change my mind? I don't know.

Anyway, next thing, I was at the junction, ready to take that right turn.

After waiting for what again seemed like forever, maybe even letting a gap in the traffic go because I was overly cautious and other vehicles seemed to be speeding, I finally saw a gap in traffic in both directions and started taking the turn real slow.

The rest is a blur.

It's crazy, what being rear-ended by a heavy car when you're taking a turn on a motorbike feels like. Nothing ever prepared me for that feeling. I felt the bike being pushed forward from under me, and none of it made sense. I don't know what I did - did I brake? Did I pull in the clutch? I'm sure I didn't have the chance to straighten the handlebars. I don't really know what happened before I found myself on the road, bike on its side, thankfully the tip-over bars ensured I didn't get pinned down, and the absolutely low speed involved meant I wasn't dragged or anything. It was so slow that I didn't even check myself for injuries before I got to my feet. But the force of the impact was enough to move the bike a fair distance - it probably slid on the left pannier and the tip over bar.

The bike looked bad, but the ignition was still on, and the engine was possibly still running (the pan european has a bank angle sensor that is supposed to cut off the engine when tipped over, and I know it worked because I have dropped it once when parking!), but either way I got to it and turned off the key to ensure there was no chance of a fire or anything in case fuel had spilled.

The driver of the car asked if I was OK, and I said I felt OK. I took off my helmet and set it on the sidewalk as I gathered my wits. A couple of passers-by tried to get the bike up but were unable to - I helped them get it up and on the stand. A cheeky boy of maybe 10 asked if the bike would be rideable again. I replied, probably not. The men who helped me get the bike on the stand said we should try to get it off the road as it was obstructing traffic. I turned the key in the ignition, and cranked the start switch. It didn't start on the first or second try, and there was a very faint smell of fuel. I turned it off, gave it a few seconds, and turned it back on again. This time, it did start and we got the bike on the footpath. One of the guys told me he was happy to be a witness for the insurance and police if required. He had taken a photo of the number plate of the car. He couldn't figure how to save my number on his phone, but finally figured it out with some help. He texted me and I got it. He offered me a lift home but I said that's fine. He picked up a few bits from the road, and asked me if any of this would be of any use. The only useful part I found was the left mirror cover (which contains the turn signal).

I sat on the footpath for a minute and tried to gather my thoughts.

I really don't know if I did. I definitely don't remember anything.

It was probably around that point that I realized my jeans had ripped and it felt like my right butt was open to the world. I checked it with my hand, and thankfully my undies hadn't ripped.

One thing I did realize that putting the laptop and my backpack in the topbox instead of the panniers saved them from most of the impact - the topbox didn't have a scratch on it.

And at that time all the decisions I made today started to replay in my head. What if I had headed to Bangor instead? Or taken that other junction? Or turned around instead of waiting? Or worst of all, what if I cycled to work?

I visualized being rear-ended by the same land rover on my bicycle instead (I take that same route home on my bicycle on days when I don't do groceries - it has the second gentlest incline compared to the other routes, and is shorter than the gentlest incline). I definitely would have been much worse off on the cycle. I wondered if I'd have died if it happened when I was on the cycle. But I reasoned to myself, that if it was such a long wait, I'd have taken to riding on the footpath instead.

I also remembered the near-miss I had the previous week when an elderly car driver almost crashed into me becasue he did not give way when I was already on the roundabout. It didn't strike me then, but thinking back now, that was my previous journey on the motorbike!

By then the police arrived, they radioed the station in, filled a report, took some photos and my details, I passed on the details of the other driver and car, and asked if I needed A&E. I said I feel OK, and I think I can make an attempt to ride home. They were OK with that. They also noticed the traffic chaos and turned their attention to directing traffic because it looked like another accident might happen any moment.

After a few minutes, I got back on the bike, and the police directed me to rejoin traffic. I rode home really slowly, and I was conscious of a car following me at a greater than usual distance, probably because they could see the amount of mangled plastic and bits dangling off the bike.

The bike seemed to ride prettty OK, and when I was at the last traffic light from home, I called Shruti from my helmet intercom and told her I met an accident, but I'm fine, and am almost home now.

I arrived home without further event. My neighbour (not the next door one I talk to often, but the one few houses up) even saw the bike and didn't react. Maybe because he saw the right side of the bike that didn't have as much damage as the left.

As I took the key out of the ignition and hopped off, Shruti opened the door and came out to see me, the bike and help me take my stuff in.

I don't remember much of the rest of the evening, other than I was still in so much shock that I actually forgot the key in the topbox! I saw it when I was leaving for the doctor the next morning! I guess nobody would steal a crashed bike anyway, so it wasn't that bad.

I don't know if I've blogged my previous accidents, but one thing's for sure - they're as fresh in my mind as if they happened yesterday. Every crash I've walked away from has left me grateful that I've got off without any permanent physical damage, and lived to ride another day.

I don't know if I should ride again. The wrist fracture (it's a chipped bone and not a fracture-fracture, as per the xray) should heal uneventfully, but still.

The feeling of being rear-ended on a motorbike without any inkling of anything about to happen is very hard to get over.

adventure biking in nicobar

we had just landed in nicobar island. it was just past sunset, and I was with another biker, who I can't recall now. it was a weird airport, as there was no terminal building - in fact we simply climed down the stairs off the smallish plane, walked off the runway, and were outside the airport without having to pass through any gate. there were no boundary walls either.

our bikes were parked in what looked like a parking lot, but there was nothing else parked there. we mounted our bikes (they were adventure bikes), and rode off. we didn't have any luggage other than our backpacks, so it was quite handy.

the island seemed quite barren and desolate, without any trees in sight in the limited visibility, and what seemend like a very thin layer of vegetation, but which on a closer look seemed more like moss or litchen. outside the tarmac road we were on, the ground was quite uneven and rocky, and definitely tricky to ride on. I commented to my friend that while it looked like it would be good for off roading at first glance, riding on such rocky uneven surfaces would be both difficult and dangerous in case of a drop.

we didn't have too far to ride, but it got dark before we got to the nearest sign of civilization. we had been riding quite slowly down a straight road from the airport, which wasn't lit in any way. in the distance we could see what looked like a small settlement, and it had a single road running across it (at right angles to the road we were on), and the road was lit with street lights and had small buildings lining it on both sides.

as soon as we saw that settlement, I suggested we stop and check the map on my phone. we stopped at the side of the road, dismounted, and i checked the map on my phone. our current location was roughly at the centre of the teardrop shaped island. the road we were on ran noth-south, and we had been headed north. we could see the airstrip we had just arrived from on the map, and it ran east-west as expected. we saw the road ahead and settlement on the map. beyond it, the road continued to another airstrip. the airstrips had been interestingly named: the one we had landed on was called airport 3 on the map, and the one further north was called airport 6. both airports were roughly in the centre of the island, and ran approximately a third to half the width of the island. the settlement was roughly midway betwen the two airstrips, and the road ran further north past airport 6 and up to the north end of the island. there were just those two roads and two airstrips on the island from what I could see on the map on my phone. also, given we could see the settlement, I could judge visually based on the distance it showed on the map that the island was pretty small - maybe about 20km from north to south and maybe about 12km east to west. we were a couple of km from the settlement. as I studied the map, I stepped off the road and onto the rocks beside them. the rocks, given the thin layer of moss, were hard and uncomfortable to sit on, and while uneven, they were undulating. I asked my friend whether he thought it would be siuitable for off-roading. he said it won't be too bad, we just need to be sensible and careful.

we got back on our bikes, and rode to the settlement. at the junction where the road we were on met the one running through it, we stopped and discussed what we should do next. it was just past sunset so we figured we had plenty of time before we called it a night. my friend suggested having a cigarette, and a shop was right next to where we were. the lights in the shop were off, even though the counter was open, and there were packs of cigarettes on display. we took a cigarette each and lit them using a lighter on the counter. as we did so, a boy walked out of another shop a few shops down the road, waving at us.

I waved back and pointed into the shop, and then pointed at the lit cigarette I was holding. the boy went back into his shop, and probably told them we were there. a minute later, a middle aged lady entered the shop from a back-door, with a lit candle.

she set the candle on the counter. and asked us if there is anything else we want. my friend suggested we buy a whole pack and split the cost. I agreed.

as I dug into my pocket and took out my wallet, I realized I didn't have any cash with me.

my friend offered to pay, paid cash, as I picked a pack and pocketed it.

as we stepped away from the shop and on to the side of road, I asked him if he paid rupees or pounds. he replied that he obviously paid rupees as we're in India. I looked through my walled and realized I didn't have any Indian cards with me. I told him I'll locate a cash machine later tonight and withdraw some cash for the rest of the trip.

we looked up and down the street - it was lined with short buildings that were raised about half a floor above the road, and many of them had a basement half below the level of the road. the buildings had shops on the ground floor and those with a basement had shops in the basement as well. there didn't seem like any restaurants though. there did seem like there were a few places to stay though, as they had lit names along the corners of some of the buildings. the road in the other direction had fewer buildings and lower structures. we thought it might be more likely to find restaurants in that direction. there weren't any that we could see though. we got to the very end of the road, and the last house had a what seemend like a small restaurant attached to it. we entered, and it turned out we had to walk through the living room to a room that served as the restaurant. the family who lived in that house was in the living room. a man (presumably the guy who runs the restaurant) was sitting with a drink of what looked like whiskey and watching TV. the TV was one of those old-style CRT TVs that have not been sold for a while.

we asked the man if the restaurant was opened for dinner and he replied that it was. we asked him was was available, and he mentioned ther were thalis - vegetarian and chicken. i asked him if he also had any fish (given this was an island I was hoping we'd get some good local seafood!). he didn't understand me at first but I repeated fish (and then said "macchi") a couple of times and he replied yes, they could definitely serve a fish thali.

my friend asked if we could start by sharing a plate of fried chicken and a couple of malabari parathas. he specifically said "fried chicken, but not a whole serving". I said I'd like a fish thali after the fried chicken. the man relayed our order to someone in the kitchen, and asked if we wanted to sit and watch TV while we had our starters, and we could then move to the resturant area to eat our thalis. we agreed, and the parathas arrived quickly enough with a side salad.

my friend start eating his paratha with the salad, but I decided I would wait for the fried chicken to arrive. I did taste the salad though, and it had quite a few chopped green chillis. they weren't very spicy though - quite nice, actually.

a few minutes later, the chicken arrived, and I started eating it with my paratha. my friend had already finished half his paratha with the salad.

and that's when i woke up.

mega-island? no, gigha island!

this post is a little late, but better late than never!

cut back to may 2021: travel within the UK was beginning to open up, and we had the May bank holiday, with no particular plans.

by a random coincidence, one of the sailing groups had a post about the only restaurant reopening on an island. and that the food was amazing.

i put the name of the island into google. it showed a 250 mile ride and two ferries. and that the island was just 7 miles long and wild campers were welcome.

and so, we packed our tent and sleeping bags and headed off.

the ferry to scotland was packed. in fact, it had the most motorbikes we've ever seen on the ferry - there was literally no room in the bike parking area in the bottom deck of the ferry! we wondered if everyone had the same idea we did. but once we rode off on the other side, the rush started thinning almost immediately. by the time we got to loch lomond, our breath had already been taken away by the mesmerizing scottish countryside.

we were somehow cutting it close though: even though I estimated 3 and a half hours of buffer, google maps started doing its usual and acted up: it decided the best route involved us taking ANOTHER ferry, and by the time we realized we were on the wrong highway, we were already half an hour off course. our lunch ate into a good chunk of our buffer (shruti insisted supermarket sandwiches wouldn't cut it), and once we were back on the correct route we had to deal with a lot of urban traffic, followed by countryside highways which were being repaired.

by around 2:30pm, google maps showed our ETA was 5:50pm, and the last ferry to gigha was at 6pm.

some crazy riding ensued (i did not break any speed limits, although i certainly was tempted!). we made it 5 minutes faster than the google maps ETA - literally just enough time to pee at the public toilets at the ferry terminal as we watched the boat dock and people disembark.

luckily for us, the ferry was relatively empty (just one campervan, one car and us) - and we were soon across on this lovely island!

we quickly got our bearings on the island, asked around, and set off in search of a suitable spot to pitch our tent. both extremes of the island (north and south) had all the prime camping spots taken up, and the one decent-ish spot had a big group of campers who already seemed quite loud and tipsy, so we decided to look more carefully elsewhere.

our spot was perfect: slightly behind a mound, so not very obvious, not in a fenced-off field, so fair game - and with a lovely view of the ocean!

parking vicki in the mud was a nervous experience, but we managed to prop up the stand from sinking on the mud with rocks. the tent was also on a bit of an incline, but it was manageable.

we rode back to the restaurant, barely 10 minutes before their last order, and were not disappopinted. absolutely fresh seafood, eaten facing a little sandy cove, with lots of happy people at nearby tables. we also had the weird experience of a rather tipsy lady giving us hug when we said we're from india, to the embarassment of her companion. yes, that was my first hug with someone other than shruti since march 2020. strange!

The next day was basically our only day to explore the island, and after a good night's sleep and coffee/breakfast, we were ready to explore this hidden gem!

Our first stop was the only shop on the island - and since it was Sunday, and there was a TV serial being shot on the ialsnd, and the shop was one of the shooting locations, it was open for precisely one hour: 11am to noon. We joined the queue, purchased the few snacks we needed for the day, and then purchased our takeaway lunch, which was also locally caught seafood. 

we rode to and then walked through "Ardmore gardens" to find a sunny spot for our lunch. I'd have never imagined steamed mussels in a takeaway box with a wooden fork (which eventually gave way and I had to use my hands 😂) could compete (and win) against all the fine-dining experiences i've had!

And the biggest surprise awaited us: there was a stately peacock roaming the garden!

After lunch, we climbed to the highest point of the island, which wasn't really that high, but had quite a view!

We then found a nice beach, and I took a quick dip after a few sips of cider - perfect for the almost-blazing sun!

We walked as far along the shore as we could, and it was close to 6pm when we decided to head back to the only restaurant on the island.

That's when a bit of a nasty surprise awaited us: the restaurant was completely sold out. They said they had no food to serve. Like, absolutely nothing. Plenty of alcohol, but no food. The kitchen was open for another 3 hours, but every single item of food in stock had been ordered. Luckily, we had purchased stuff for Monday's breakfast, and decided to have it for dinner instead. we still had a bit of sunlight left though, so we cut across sheep-dotted fields to get to another of the high points of the island, home to the windmills that power it.

Back in our tent, we settled in for the night, and after an early start, we packed up and were ready to bid farewell to the island! this time, we didn't take any chances with time, and were on the 10am ferry which gave us another hour on our return journey than we had on our way here. the decision served us well, and we had plenty of time, even to squeeze a couple of scenic breaks on the way back. the weather was great, and just being near the sea all day was everything we could ask for.

Probably the best way to spend a long weekend this corner of the UK!

what happened?

I haven't blogged for 76 days, which is probably a personal worst.

and the funny thing is, unlike the last few months of lockdown, it's not because i've not been up to much worth blogging - in fact, quite the opposite.

we travelled to London in July for a much awaited break - visiting friends for the first time since the start of lockdown. while we enjoyed the break itself, we did feel quite uncomfortable by the fact that our flights were quite literally packed, we took loads of trains that although not as busy as they would be on a normal work day, still were far more crowded than spaces we've been in, since the pandemic began. we ate out a fair bit, including in crowded-ish restaurants, although we did also spend more time outdoors than we usually would - basically it was about as close to normal as we could get, with the exception of wearing masks. and the fear.

luckily for us, we got back, got ourselves tested, and were all clear. phew!

we then purchased our first car. a pretty old one, but it has 4 wheels and moves under its own power, so it counts.

then came August. This time it was a longer vacation, but didn't involve meeting people.

Lake district was spectacular - better than we remembered it from our first visit 4 years ago, and that was just one day. This was 9 whole days. Loads of hiking, stuffed to the gills with awesome food, and plenty of miles on Vicki. I couldn't have imagined a better way to turn 38! Except for the addition of cake, of course, but that's probably because we were too stuffed with sticky toffee pudding and other goodies to bother with lowly cake 😁

This time, we were also less nervous than the London trip, because COVID-19 seemed to be genuinely on the decline, everyone was wearing masks when indoors (London seemed to be about 70%) and much better behaved social-distancing wise. And of course, we were mostly outdoors and did not use public transport at all.

Barely two weeks after our return, we had our first guests in our new home: Nickolai and Damian were over for Damian's birthday and some exploring of the Irish countryside. That half-week went by in a blink, and it was September already.

Imran, another old buddy from uni days was over from London at the end of his week-long trip along Ireland. He was only over for 2 days, but it was a good two evenings catching up and showing him a few of the sights of the city. And then, before he even left, I was on my next mini-vacation: a sailing course, which included living aboard a yacht!

One week later, we're already in the second half of September, and I have another weekend of sailing coming up, followed by a live gig (our first since the pandemic struck), a bit of volunteering over weekends... and I'm sure October will be over before we realize it too!

and so, in short, that's what happened!

If you ever had a bad motorcycle accident, what advice would you give to others?

I’ve had many close calls, and three accidents that could have been much worse if I was unlucky/less skilled. Here’s my advice, in (my) order of importance:

1. Do not overestimate your abilities. Start with the assumption that you’re absolutely incompetent, and work your way up from there. But do make sure you’re working on “working your way up”.
2. Do not ride when you are not at your mental best. Angry/tired/depressed/even overly happy! Anything that takes your mind off the road is a risk you take.
3. Do not overestimate your motorcycle’s abilities - especially when it comes to emergency braking/steering in adverse conditions.
4. Do not make assumptions about other road users. This is tricky in the UK, where most people do follow rules but are distracted/bored/inattentive instead, but having done most of my riding in India, where following the rules is a joke (most road users have never even heard the rules once in their life, and most truckers rely on alcohol to keep themselves awake on overnight long haul drives!) it’s basically what kept me alive.
5. Take every close call as a lesson. Take every accident as an even bigger lesson. Most close calls are a result of at least one of the 4 above. Most accidents, at least two of the 4 above. Dissect each incident, by yourself, with trusted riding buddies, on quora. Internalize it. Make sure it never happens again. And thank your stars you lived to see another day.
6. All the gear all the time. Motorcycle safety gear saves lives, reduces pain, and really is not uncomfortable/inconvienient/expensive when you get the right gear. All of my accidents where I sustained physical injury have been where I was not fully geared up, and where gear would have reduced my injury, and were on extremely short rides (within 1km of my destination!)

(posted this on Quora, but thought it was too valuable to leave off my blog :D)

aches

 a few years ago, I remember the day, after one long ride, I got home, depressed.

told wifey that this feels like it's the end of the line for me. the end of everything i feel brings fulfillment to my life.

i had my first post-ride backache.

i don't remember where the ride was from, or how that happened (probably bad posture caused by having a tent or something between us on the seat), but i do remember how i felt: a bad back was the end of riding the way i love. throw everything on, hop on, and ride off, just taking care of sleep and hydration until i arrived at my destination.

I didn't want to be one of those guys who only rides solo, or needs a backup vehicle, or takes his motorcycle out twice a year and takes a day off work after i'm back to recover. to me, that would have been the end of all things fun.

luckily for me, shruti convinced me i was overreacting, and that it was a one-off, and i believed her.

she also suggested core-strengthening exercises, but i didn't quite bother with those. anyway.

the last few weeks have brought the same thoughts back to me.

vicki has been out of action for the last few weeks (over a month, actually!).

and right after that, I have been put out of action myself.

it started with a strange ache in my right shoulder, extending down the shoulder blade. just the right side.

a few days of being attentive to my posture while working from home helped greatly, and I recovered after about a week. which was a lot longer than it's taken me to recover from any ache so far!

two good weeks later, I woke up with an extremely bad neck. so bad, that I literally couldn't get out of bed till 4pm, and even then I was in such intense pain I had to be helped out.

I literally couldn't move.

I tried everything from stretching, moving my head as much as I could (which wasn't much), etc. Since it happened while I was asleep, I assumed it was something with my sleeping posture. Shruti insisted it was due to bad posture while working.

The next day, I was a little more careful about how I slept, but there was barely any improvement. I did manage to get out of bed and get a whole day's work done though. Also hit the gym for an "upper body" day, which helped things somewhat.

It's been two weeks now, and it's a constant battle of sleeping extremely carefully (even the slightest bad move results in excruciating pain an hour later) - the complete opposite of my entire life so far.

Even when I'm sitting at the PC, if I'm in one spot for an hour, or have a cushion in the wrong spot - literally anything less than perfect - I'm in pain again.

I don't know if it's just an injury that will take a while to recover from, or if I'm going to have to make a permanent lifestyle change.

Either way, it is a very depressing thought.

I just hope I'm overreacting, like I was a few years ago.

problems and solutions

some problems become easier to solve by merely by thinking of the solution.

others need you to actually grab your tools, get over your fears and get your hands dirty while getting nowhere, and then dig in and remind yourself the biggest failure is to never have tried.

- kris, trying to solve two different problems on the same day

unlocked

two weeks ago, when we took the plunge and decided to venture out of home for a 3 day ride/vacation, thanks to the governments of UK and Ireland deciding it was safe to do so, and bnbs and campsites opening up to take guests, we were finally out of our home for the first time in 4 months, down to the day (11 march - 11 july).

we didn't decide on our trip until literally 36 hours before our departure time: we read all the guidelines, news, statistics, thought long and hard about the precautions we could take, etc.

and then, we hopped on to our trusty motorcycle and enjoyed the ride. sanitizer every where, frequent hand washing (in public washrooms, which aren't really known for being perfectly clean, and in these times, gave a feeling similar to navigating a minefield!). i joked at one point that we're probably the cleanest we've ever been on a ride.

while we were riding back, we told each other: precautions notwithstanding, we'll stay away from everyone for the next two weeks. just one of us doing groceries, once a week, wearing a mask, etc.

that was not to be.

by the time the weekend had neared, our friends were making plans to meet up. we wanted to stay away from people to minimize risk, and thought it shouldn't be difficult. staying 2 metres apart in a park spread over thousands of acres, right?

and then there were other friends planning to meet up. the cafes were open. people were making plans to consume some good ol' alcohol in each others' homes.

and every time we accepted an invitation, we told ourselves: we'll take precautions.

sure, we didn't do silly things like sharing food/drink.

but you can't play exploding kittens without touching each others' cards. and we were probably a foot apart at the cafe. literally shoulder to shoulder with the windows closed in the car we pooled in.

and so, here's the tally over two weeks:

meeting in open spaces maintaining more than 1 metre distance: ~19 adults + a few kids (we did gather closer for a few seconds for photos)

meeting in closed spaces maintaining 1 metre distance: 3 adults

meeting in closed spaces not maintaining 1 metre distance: 13 adults

meeting in close proximity: 6 adults

restaurants/cafes visited: 4 (3 on vacation, 1 after)

oh, and we have collectively made over 5 grocery store visits in 2 weeks after the return from vacation + at least as many during our vacation itself (it's surprising how quickly these add up!) + visits to other shops + 2 ferry rides.

when you add these up, the numbers are mind boggling! we're up from meeting 1 person in an open space at over 1 metre distance over a two week period, to 41 people, most in higher risk situations over the next two weeks!

i just hope whatever analysis fed into the decisions to reduce restrictions and the test-and-trace programs that have been recently kicked off do their job in case the number of covid-19 cases increase.