Highway Cello

Last Monday was Mayday bank holiday, and it didn’t snow, or even rain.  I thought I’d better do a full day of cycling, since I’m very much a fair weather cyclist, and the forecast wasn’t so good for the rest of the week.I wasn’t brave enough to put the cello on the bike though, so […]

Cyclists are interested in numbers – every bit as much as accountants are. The numbers, of course, don’t lie. How many miles have you ridden today? What’s your average speed? Top speed? How many feet of climbing? Every cyclist now has a computer, linked to a satnav, to relay all this data, in real time.

I’ve been writing poetry, instead of getting on with the serious business of fitness training. Maybe it’s a kind of displacement activity, but I’ve been thinking again about the meaning and purpose of journeys – and about displacement. I’m doing this journey from choice. Nobody is forcing me to leave home and launch into the

I’ve just had a birthday, which must mean it’s now less than two months until I set off.  My age appals me, btw, so I’m not saying what it is – only that I’m definitely not too old for this.  There might be lots of reasons not to do it, but age can’t be one

3½ months since this mad venture assaulted my mind.  3½ months until I have to pack my cello onto the little trailer, and set off.  Two thousand miles, on a bike, down the length of England, then France, and over the Alps into Italy. So I could call this a kind of halfway point.  A

How are the preparations going?  People ask me most days.  Then they laugh.  I don’t know why it’s so funny, but it seems better to laugh with them.  If I didn’t laugh I might hit them.

So now I have two cellos. A real one, and a shiny black carbon fibre cello. Suddenly it’s complicated…

I couldn’t take a real cello 2000 miles on the back of a bike, could I? So what to do?…

A few months ago, never having done it before, I tried a little busking. Why?…