I rode over to deepest Essex on Sunday, it was my Mum's 92nd birthday. It was a bit of a slog around the M25 motorway, but once I got close I was able to turn off and ride through some of the little lanes around Brentwood down to South Ockendon where she lives. We usually go out for lunch on these occasions, but she's getting a bit wobbly on her feet. I did offer to take her on the back of the bike - the weight of the crash helmet almost toppled her over, so we forgot that idea.
|Granny on a bike - its just not going to work!|
So I spent a few pleasant hours soaking up the sun in the back garden, chatting to Mum and the neighbours. I must admit I left a little earlier than I should have, as I had it in my mind to ride again on the lanes than I'd learnt to ride on as a teenager; back then I soon progressed to grinding away the edge of the footboards on my Lambretta TV175, cornering in a shower of sparks round the twisty bits. I'm a bit more sedate nowdays, but still had a very enjoyable ride through Cranham, Upminster and on through Brentwood before making my way back up to the motorway and the slog home. I did pause to take a photo in front of St Nicholas church; this is memorable for a couple of reasons. It is one of the few 11th century Norman churches built with a round tower, and 42 years ago I got married there to the first Mrs El D. Fortunately I long ago escaped from the clutches of that particular nutter, although there have been a few more since.
|Scene of the crime|