Unfortunately, the title just about describes it all: obligatory eating, insufficient sleeping, and excessive riding. As much as I wanted to like a book about long-distance cycling, there was no compelling story. Turning the pages at times seemed nearly as laborious as the narrator describes his ...
I was eventually woken from my slumbers at the luxuriously late hour of 7.30 a.m. Whitefish, the next town of any note, was a further 90 miles away. Ambitions now firmly tempered by reality, I would be more than happy if I made it that far. Fired by a vague recollection that the café opposite the...
I’m there on the extension in the kitchen, listening to her, roysh, and I have to put my hand over the mouthpiece to stop her from hearing me cracking my shite laughing. She’s there, ‘Cleaning Woman Wanted,’ and the bird in the paper, roysh, she goes, ‘Sorry, I have to stop you there. You can’t b...