Get back on your bike and ride.”

So here I was out of my depth metaphorically and almost literally in the aftermath of the deluge which had hit the course.

We were in the North York Moors, a place of wild beauty and steep inclines. Sutton Bank (25%) and Rosedale Chimney (33%) are two roads typical of the gradients you can find here. The off-road terrain was even tougher.

The Edinburgh Festival gave Bram and Gareth a chance to attend interviews with Nichola Sturgen, Angela Rayner, Keir Starmer and Jeremy Corbyn. We deliberately avoided the current crop of  politicians in favour of Jeremy because we thought he might prove to be the most interesting. It was after all astonishing that an MP who had first served under Harold Wilson, a known left wing dinosaur, CND activist and close friend of Tony Benn should have recently become a leader of  the Labour Party.

A birthday present for my mothers formidable piano teacher.

My Dutch grandfather had a remarkable career, first in the law, then in colonial government, then as an ambassador; later on he was prominent in the rebuilding of Holland after the war, serving for a time as head of the police force, and then was put in charge of rebuilding roads and waterways, including the reclamation of land flooded by the bombing of the dams in the war. 

The appearance of large bubbles on the oily surface between the ship and the quay was all that was left to mark the passage of the City of Lucknow's magnificent display board.  One minute we were undoing the lashings and the next it seemed to develop a mind of its own and drop straight into the sea.  Norman Leslie and I gazed incredulously over the companionway guard rail in the vain hope that if we looked hard enough it might miraculously reappear on the surface and prove this was all just a nightmarish dream. My fellow cadet, known to us all as Norrie,  immediately made his position quite clear.  His response to my questioning look was to lay the whole blame for the incident on to my shoulders. “You’re senior to me,” might seem to the uninitiated to be an unrelated remark but within the close-knit community of the cadet ship this short sentence sealed my fate and relieved him from all responsibility for the dreadful blunder.

The raid was carried out on a cold and very wet night early in September.  The plan worked to perfection, with the night watchman being only too willing to co-operate when confronted with Bill Daniels sawn-off shotgun.  As arranged the successful team melted away into the night having loaded hundreds of sacks of used notes into Leslie Morgan's hired van.  Andy then dropped the others at separate locations to suit carefully concocted alibis before disappearing himself as prearranged.

Strict ‘streaming’ was in force at this time with children in each year placed according to perceived ability in either the ‘A’, ‘B’ or ‘C’ classes.  The brightest kids were placed in the ‘A’ and the least able in the ‘C’ stream.  ‘B’ seemed to contain all those they couldn't quite pigeonhole.  This is where I was placed.  You would think that even over 50 years ago it would have been common knowledge that children thrive on encouragement. To be selected for a B grade at eight was not a helpful start!

As I look back on my early school life, I realised that teachers in the early 1950s had a relatively cushy existence.  Well-behaved children from largely middle-class backgrounds were used to a discipline within their own home environment that today would be considered very repressive and cruel.  Physical punishment was commonplace and this authoritarian approach was reflected in the classroom.  One rarely stepped out of line unless one could be sure to remain undetected.

I sat in the window-less cell at Belgravia Police Station and pondered the depressing events that had led to my arrest and detainment. Even the one private phone call grudgingly allowed me had been a disaster. It was clear from her tone that my wife had found my explanation very unconvincing.

The life changing role that the Titanic tragedy had for one particular wealthy passenger!

Inspired by the iconic film ‘Breaking Away’ Roger’s life from then on changed dramatically.

Most of us are passionate about something.  It might be an all consuming leisure pursuit or just the passing flirtation with a hobby that has temporally captured the imagination. Whatever the extent of the commitment, however, the enthusiast will live for it, practice it as much as possible sometimes to the exclusion of everything else.

Giuseppe had become hardened to sitting on the cold doorstep. He always chose the same one. Insulating himself from the chilly surface with yesterdays Gazzetta Dello Sport, his favourite paper, he was content to watch people and greet his few friends as they crossed the piazza in his hometown Avella as it came to life.

A cyclist recalls the night before the ‘Grand Depart’ of the Worlds greatest professional bike race - the 99th edition of the Tour de France.

A short poem by Lindsay McCullough

Gareth George long-distance bike ride

A tale of a youthful obsession to climb and conquer the large Elm tree at the bottom of my parents garden.

My Mother recalls the story of what happened when she accepted an invitation from her Aunt Florence to accompany her to visit her in-laws at Llangrannog.

A short story of a solitary diner's infatuation with a beautiful woman seated at the table opposite, who is celebrating Valentine's evening with her boyfriend.