A wintery SW8 walk to start off Saturday.
I wasn't expecting that.
I'm carrying a WEIRD foot injury at the moment. The Brockwell Park Run wasn't even a possibility.
But I did plan for a lovely lido swim instead.
The snow was actually pretty heavy for 8am.
I 'aint cycling in that.
And so I walked all the way over to Brockwell Park instead.
I stopped off at Pete the Greek's for a haircut.
But Pete isn't there anymore, having retired over the summer months.
The haircut and the conversation from Rasheed was as equally as charming.
Something for the weekend, Sir?
Steady the buffers, Mr Barber.
I walked through Brixton, up towards Herne Hill, and then arrived at the lido alongside the usual Icicles.
The name certainly held true for Saturday. The water temperature still hadn't slipped below ten degrees, but the wind factor above the water was touching on freezing.
Two Hat Jase made the first appearance of the season.
Twelve lengths, and then it all went a little Brockwell BONKERS.
Jewellery Geraldine was applying her magnificent lipstick ahead of a brisk few lengths; I noticed that the 'summer' decking in the old toker's corner had finally been finished.
And then I'm not really sure what happened.
A bit of a Show and Tell situation developed in the gents.
Le Gai Pensionnaire had packed the wrong swimming bag.
Rather than a towel and trunks he had brought along a "Finnish birch basket" to the lido.
I have absolutely no idea how this situation was allowed to develop.
But a conversation then took place amongst the Icicles about the benefits of a Finnish birch basket at the lovely lido.
Had the cold water finally got to me?
I didn't have time to hang around to show off whatever was in my swimming bag.
The snow had stopped as so I walked all the way back to Sunny Stockwell.
A few indoor domestics, and then I cycled off to Liverpool Street, and a weekend back over there.
As ever, oh dear.
It wasn't that bad.
Anna welcomed me back with two words:
"Brightlingsea" and "BOOZE."
I didn't have time to unpack as we legged it cross country before the estuary wilds bruising skies decided to fall in on us.
We made it to the Railway just before dusk.
Three pints of ACE booze followed. All in under an hour as well.
And that was just Anna.
I had a decent chat with some of the Brightlingsea Regent boys about their season so far, all under the warmth of the welcome log fire.
We bussed it back to base, then DARTS / more booze / football.
Muso update: I think that I've finally managed to ween myself off the first Athlete album.
The new Dave Rawlins Machine offering.