We bombed it down the hills

Here are some misty views from my bike last week

Today sitting in the sun, I entered the world of Gormenghast. "This tower.. arose like a mutilated finger".  His sentences taste delicious so far.  I want to tear off the pages and pin them in my hair.

I also ate a duck egg.  I was apprehensive.  It was big.  I had to slam it hard to crack it open.  If you hold it up to the sunlight it becomes semi-transparent and etheral, like an opal.  And inside the yolk is a deep, dirty orange like 1970s wallpaper and those seat covers you get on the Bakerloo line. 

I'm beginning to like hills. Pedal pedal wheeze creak wheeze.

Then freewheeeeeeelin