I was honoured and humbled to meet

Buffalo Big Black Bushy Beard Bill

Here’s some pictures from Saturday.

The second picture is of a guy called Dan, a man who put a bit of can (kronenbourg 1664 to be precise) in his ripped tyre to stop the tube from popping through the hole.

Uninteresting facts:

I’ve never cycled in London before. I knew London was flat as a pancake but I didn’t expect riding a fixed wheel to feel that good. Riding around Birmin’am is gonna feel even worse in comparison. I’m gonna have to go back to London soon just so I can experience the pleasure of pedalling miles upon miles of flat ground.

It was a bit weird that I already knew the names and faces of almost everyone I met.

My secret identity was inevitably revealed.

I drank too much beer (although it was only a 4-pack of Holsten Pils and 2 Dragon Stout, I drank beer when I was thirsty and should have been drinking water as well) and hardly ate.

All I ate, from I left home at 2.30pm Saturday, is a small portion of chips at about 9pm. Nothing else (except some glucose powder) until about 9pm the next day.

I stayed up all night at a party, and it turned out that the DJ was Scott of Archie’s Gro-Bags.

I left Scott’s not knowing where I was, feeling really sick, and not knowing how to get back to Marylebone station, but it was easy to find. I spent the entire train journey throwing up every 20 minutes or so. I then puked three times on the way home from Birmin’am train station, and rode at walking pace all the way home because I was so weak.

I can’t remember much stuff, except lots of men in dresses.

I phoned in sick this morning. Bollocks!