Battling to The BBC at Bristol.

A little knowledge is dangerous and this applies to the workings of this blog.  This will be the second effort. I managed to wipe the first attempt which I had completely  finished.    Not a good start to the day.   The departure from the retreat at Glastonbury was rapid and efficient.   I hope that the night in the Eygptian room had helped calm my charge. How many B and B's have you stayed in where you have to make your own breakfast.   This was a first for me.    We are not living in a blame culture and Richard seemed to be respecting this until he asked our dear hostess if there was real coffee in the house.  The negative reply was enough for me to realise that the writing was on the wall.   I tendered my resignation as accommodation manager and Richard did not ask me to reconsider.   It was I who had researched and booked the retreat and so I have no hard feelings.   There was another hug from our hostess on departure. I am sure I felt my toes curl up.   We got out and down to the town to find real coffee. Richard had an interview to do with the Eastern Daily Press at 09.00    We selected the La Terre. I made another error here by ordering a double expresso rather than the Americano which R prefers earlier in the day  There was nothing about this cafe which suited the the artiste. He was not in good humour. Even the toilet sign seemed to get under his skin.   I needed to find a method of helping him find his inner calm.  Not an easy task.      The interview went without a hitch.  At this point RD suggested that the reporter had a Norfolk accent like me.  What a nerve.  I do not have a Norfolk accent.       We departed the hippy town off Glastonbury at speed and headed out towards Wells one of the smallest cities in England.    I decided to take a detour across the site of the Glastonbury Festival.  A peaceful five mile ride and we were able to enjoy our natural surroundings; an abundance of wild flowers and even a heron flying parallel to our route.     All was well with the world as we passed through Wells and on to the welcome sign to the Mendips.       It was here that we enocuntered the longest hill of the tour to date.   Welcome to the Mendips indeed. They were to be a challenge.  At the top I waited for Mr. Durrant out of concern only for him to turn on me and express his frustration with regard to the effort it had taken.    He asked for some assurance from me that there were no more tests of that kind.  I wish.  Perhaps he thought I was responsible for the road and landscape. We descended and turned off to Litton in search of a quiet yet quick route to Bristol.      A gentle ride around a large lake and then we hit a wall of a hill going up to Bishopsworth.    So steep we had to get off the bikes and push.    How RD managed I will never know but he did.  No real complaint, he had no energy left.   Time was running out.  We had a deadline to be at the studios, a live interview.    Somehow in the chase across the city we managed to get separated.   Richard made it in time and delivered as usual.  I followed him in after a further circuit around the streets.    We regrouped in Brown's Bar and got ripped off. £8.00 for two bottles of mineral water. £29.00 in total following a light snack.  A waiter so disinterested in providing good service one wonders how he keeps his job.    We managed to charge telephones and take stock.  With the Corsham concert on the radar we decided to make our way east out of the city in rush hour. Another challenge.  From nowhere a kind cycling angel helped us on to the Bristol to Bath cycle path. The M1 for bikes but flat.    We put a few miles in and came off the path at Warmley in search of a B and B.  Finding a place to stay was not easy and Richard had lost all energy in his legs.  The day had taken every last bit of energy out of him.  Two smoked mackerel from the Tesco metro hit the spot but would take time to have an influence on proceedings.   We eventually secured rooms at the Compass Inn at Tomerton.  In late and a quick supper and bed.