Recover And Return

After last nights crazy shenanigans we rose a little late and a little sore. Gay bars are amazingly fun places to go out. There isn’t any judgement, no matter how crazily you dance, which plays right into my hands! Unfortunately no one was sober enough to engage in any Ceroc, but that’s fine, I just wiggled away on my own. Dancing till about 3 am meant that my legs were knackered this morning and ached all day long.

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NW200 Race Day

I awoke with the rising sun, slowly dawning. Dawning comprehension that my bladder was full. I peeked my head out of the tent slowly and quietly. We had slept in a hedge in a public park so i was careful not to raise attention. The bright blue tent didn’t help this, but we had covered it with Phil’s camouflage bivvy bag to hide it as best as possible. We were fairly well hidden and it was early enough people were not present to see us rise and shine.

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Ireland Intro

So… Large hostel dorms suck leprechaun balls…

Yesterday was a really long day, bouncing across countries takes it out of you! I could really have done with a good nights sleep, in a proper bed, with a mug of coco, and a warm lady beside me, while we are making a wish-list. Instead I got a rickety bunk bed that wasn’t long enough [ SOMEONE FOR FUDGE SAKE MAKE LONGER BEDS ] nowhere to charge my phone and a scratchy blanket. You know, the brown ones with extra added scratchiness from the 1900’s that must be made out of hay rather than cotton. And on top of all this luxury, some drunk irish prick wandered in at god knows what hour. He helpfully went to sleep right in the middle of the floor (presumably because he was too drunk to find his bed) and started snoring like a lethargic pneumatic drill…. Needless to say it was not my best nights sleep, and the Irishman was lucky to survive the night…

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