Monthly Archives: March 2014

Now, sit still and think about what you have just done.

Ibiza Ibiza Ibiza – what can I say ?

Do you ever miss the simplicity of childhood?  Never in my adult life has a Jam Sandwich fulfilled my dietary needs or requirements but as a kid, a jam sandwich was the perfect answer.  If I was really hungry, I would have 2.  Lunch or dinner, sometimes even breakfast – a jam sandwich was the way to go.

Later in life, our needs become more complex, the simple jam sarnie just won’t cut it any more

Ibiza – where do we begin?  Just back from a monster session on the island.  I realise that statement has many several meanings dependent on your outlook on life.  It could mean a huge piss up, a monster shagging session, a drug induced clubbing marathon or for the more musically blessed amongst you – maybe you were thinking about a live orchestral mash up.  For me, it was a 1000 mile drive, followed by a 3 ½ hour ferry ride with a 5 day sandwich of mountain biking across two of the Balearics finest islands before returning to the ferry and another 1000 mile road trip back to Brussels.

Nothing less than a red run every day, sometimes slipping onto a black run purely by accident.  Black runs make Rupert moan even more than red runs, and I thought making Rupert moan more was impossible – I achieved it on more than one occasion.  Next time I am going to pretend they are all red runs and head directly for the blacks.

Both bikes and riders have survived the tortuous week in mid 20º’s temperatures, dusty tracks, high speed runs (70kph or 43mph), two Balearic Islands of Formentera and Ibiza (in the same day, end to end and back again), covered just over 300km (188 miles) and climbed a total of 4800m (15,750 feet). The climbing was a particular highlight of mine.  Being both an avid thrill seeker and eternal optimist I have finally realised that climbing a mountain track in order to find the perfect downhill section on the other side, is nothing more than a fable.  The fact that you have to hold your bike above your head to clear the shrubbery while scrambling on loose rocks that even the most hardened hikers would find a challenge has not deterred me.  Reaching the top of the climb to look down into the opposing valley and realise that after that harsh ½ hour uphill climb with my bike – there is no golden path back down, no flowing sweepers where I might crack a new top speed record, no stunning scenery, no jumps, no nothing except the exact same condition that I have just endured on the way up, I now have to endure on the way down, bike held high above my head to make it through the plants all the way back down to the valley floor.  The only compensation is knowing that no-one will have ever been stupid enough to have taken a bike up there before.  It did remind me of a weekend in Genoa when I met a dog walker as I rode to the foot of the climb to the peak.  Even in Italian I understood him when he said you can’t get up there on a bike.  I smiled to myself and thought ‘ Oh yes I can – I am Johnny English’.  He was dead right of course, I carried my bike pretty much from the point where we passed each other, nearly all the way to the summit and then all the way back down the other side.

The tracks generally were very entertaining even though they took some navigating.  In true Spanish tradition, they started with something gold, got to the lunch time siesta and came back in the afternoon with corruption and nepotism to drag them down out of the top spot into a non podium finish.  The Balearics at its best and most natural – corrupt and nepotistic.  Signage and directions went from being too good to being non existent.  I don’t mind the adventure of navigation, I just think that riding a signed route shouldn’t be broken up with the need to look at maps and mobile phones to decide which way to turn at a junction. I wonder if any of the local government officials have completed these routes recently to see how good they are.

There – moan out of the way (that’s going to happen after a week with Poopie).  Apart from a few ‘minor’ navigational issues, the week was as epic as it ever could have been for two first timers there.  There is always room for improvement with experience, so next time, we will know a little bit more about what we are doing – whether we choose to apply that knowledge is a different matter, and in all honesty, highly unlikely.  All in all, I give Ibiza a big thumbs up as a biking destination.

Now lets get to the new videos.  There are 5 new uploads this week for your viewing pleasure.  Generally 1 from each day except day 4.  After covering over 140km on day 3, I had no energy left to keep switching on the Go Pro and capturing what we were doing.  In fact, day 4 was noticeably slower anyway so not worth covering.  The final day, I just lumped loads of long bits together and laid over some Ibiza modern classics – my mac could no longer keep up with my editing requests and was failing fast.

This alone, in the coming weeks will spark another mac v laptop debate as my admiration for all things Apple has been gradually eroding over the last 12 months or so.

So whats next for me?  I will tell you – pizza, cup of tea, afternoon of Xbox live then a run in the forest before sampling the taste of the long awaited 2014 Duvel Tripel Hop.

Sadly next week – I have to return to work


Don’t forget to watch the latest 5 videos.  Roll your cursor over the ‘Video’ tag at the top of this page, turn up the volume and enjoy.  Remember, all of these videos were filmed in HD on Ibiza or Formentera in real time.  There are parts where may think that they have been sped up but this is not the case.

A quick chance for you to welcome my 30th subscriber to these hallowed pages, please welcome Armada Boat Hire, from sunny Warwickshire.  I wonder if we can get 10 more subscriptions before our 10th birthday next year?


No Animals were harmed or unduly distressed during the making of these videos……………..  Well,  maybe one exception.



Surviving Ibiza

You may be pleased (or maybe not) to know that both myself and Poopie have survived Day 1 on the Mediterranean party Island of Ibiza.  A short and torturous 55k yesterday to set the pace.

Todays trip is somewhat shorter at around 29km and later I will be back to give you a little more blah – but for now, check out the recent video upload   in the vid section of course, ‘Bonkers’ is our work of art from yesterday but we also have another to upload that is taking some time so be sure to check back soon

I saw Balearic Bill yesterday – he is looking old now

The Video Blog is alive

Now, never let it be said that I am slow, or even a slacker – but after nearly 1 year of paying for it, I have finally used the video press section for my blog.  Todays successful upload is from last summer in the Belgian forest, a high speed sprint during which I did manage to break my bike and had to cut short the rest of the day.

To see the list of videos (currently only 1) look at the top of the page where you have ‘Home’ ‘Photos’ ‘Statement’ ‘Videos’ and hover your mouse over the word video to see the immense selection of films I have yet to make.  Click on the only option you have, turn up the sound and prepare to boogie.


Prepare to be enthralled



Shame on you Putin

10k – no shit !

I was surprised actually.  I pulled a great 10k with at least 75% of it in the forest and didn’t need to cop a squat on the way round.  I say surprised because I was convinced that I needed to drop a load before I left, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t squeeze anything out.  I took a pack of handy andy’s as a safeguard but all was well.

Lets keep the subject on poop for a little longer.  As I was running along the avenue on the way back from the forest, I saw a woman walking her dog and letting it shit on the grass.  She made absolutely no effort to pick it up.  As I crossed the finish line for my little 10k jaunt, I felt something squish and slip underfoot.  When I looked down, I noticed a poopy bag.  Someone had gone to the trouble of bagging up one of their pooches poopies and then tied the bag and dropped it there and then – why would you do that ?  All that effort and all you have to do is drop it in a bin.

Staying with poop just a little longer – myself and poopie pants are heading to Ibiza next weekend for a mountain bike extravaganza. I already have several routes planned, one called ‘leg breaker’ which is rated as a black run.  The others I have are all rated red so expect broken bones.

So, for the first time in my life, despite several visits to the island, I am finally going to get to explore Ibiza.

I am bothered by recent events in Ukraine.  Obviously Putin is completely off his head and out of his mind – there are other side issues to consider.  Yesterday I thought I might go out in my famous red CCCP T-shirt but thought better of it, worse still, my big russian general coat is having to stay firmly on its hangar inside the house as I am sure there will be some protest at me wearing it.  I am not afraid of the protest, I actually agree with them – Putin is being a horses arse.  Now, if I suddenly and inexplicably disappear whilst on Ibiza next week, expect KGB involvement.

Work is beckoning and I really don’t want to go back.  It sounds heavenly having 2 months off with pay and then working for 2 months but if the programme is piss poor, it is piss poor.  I continue to look for something new and interesting.

A few things to sort out this week.  I started cleaning the windows on the house after the construction next door has finally finished.  The ones I have cleaned now look really good but the down side is that they make the others look shit.  Is that all I have to talk about?  cleaning windows!!  FFS

I sat in Delish Deli on bank street last week, eating some very healthy food.  Watching some oldies walk by, I started to wonder about what getting old holds for us.  Feeling the cold, pensions, fashion statements etc etc.  I wondered if I was actually experiencing a mid-life crisis.  Lets be honest, does anyone know what a mid-life crisis feels like ?  Maybe it’s that point were we begin to realise that potentially all that lays in front of us is the ability to get old. That would scare us surely?  So we over react to that and go out and buy silly cars, dress in clothes 20 years too young for us and take up pursuits that only teenagers should do. Does the fact that I am thinking about getting old actually mean I am getting old ?


There is more to life than this







As Roy Orbison once said – It’s Over !!

A successful trip I have to tell you.  On the 26th February I secured my Scuba Instructor license.  Now, I am ready to leave, back to the cold, rainy dampness that is called Europe.

I am looking forward to it I have to say.  I have one last run planned in my old trainers before I relegate them to the bin and then I can collect my car and get ready for the road trip back to Belgium.

The trusty ‘Specialized’ is still in pieces, I hope I can remember how it all goes back together after 3 weeks or more away.  I am now only 1 month away from returning to work – that saddens me a little but you never know, maybe I won the lottery while I was away and work would be a thing of the past.

Security continues to tighten around the resort.  You have to feel sorry for the locals though, they work hard and are very friendly but the place is empty through no fault of theirs.  I met a local shop owner the other day who told me his business had been going down the pan since the troubles here began.

I am looking forward to having a razz in my car too – funny how I always am excited to be getting back behind the wheel of that motor.  As hard as I remember, I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a motor quite as much, even back to the old LeasePlan days where it was not unusual to have a car sitting on my driveway that was worth more than the house – The Rangie just ticks all the boxes.

So, back to the grind as it were.  Tuesday morning will see me hit the Brussels forest for the first time in almost a month – that will be a pleasure I know, then the scamble to get the bike back up to speed and all will be back to normality (or as they say in Lana’s world ‘normalcy’).

I am tired, if not exhausted and am not looking forward to the slog back to England but it has to be done. Goodbye Sharm El Sheikh – Hello Europe.

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