Riding a bike for a long distance is very much like a meditation. Life, love, the universe etc. For those familiar with EMDR, there’s something powerful about the bilateral brain stimulation of left pedal, right pedal, left pedal, right pedal ad infinitum, keeping one anchored in the present.

Tom in Paris asked, what on earth do I think about for such long stretches of solo time. Let me tell you, as I gaze down at my map, handlebar bag and computer, there’s no shortage of brain Fodder. (Sorry by the way for those stray capitalisations – my stowaway keyboard and Blackberry decide for themselves that there should be a capital at the beginning of some lines, regardless).

How fast am I going. What’s my average speed today. How far have I gone. Today and in general in my life. Have I gone The right way. Did I really get it so wrong with client x, or did client y benefit perhaps more than I realised. What is it about working with journalists and trauma that I find so rewarding. What do relationships mean. What about my kids’ future and global warming.

(EVERYONE I speak to on this trip, by the way, is extremely concerned, and believes it’s probably too late for the planet. There’s been a breathtaking shift of awareness about this in the past two years or so, since I’ve started asked people on my travels what they think. More on that in a later blog.)

What’s that twinge in my achillles heel, damn it, mean. Did the drugs really do the job? Yes, I think they did, and I have every intention of making it all the way round by July. How is Sue and how are the cats and the hens at home. Are people enjoying the blog. Why don’t I put question marks at the end of my questions… ?

And so on and so on . Believe me, boring it ain’t. Unless you are listening in as an outsider.

Final thought today before heading finally to John’s. Blogs are addictive. And for an obsessive like me, thoroughly fun. Woke up in the middle of the night last night at the hostel and realised I’d posted something twice. Logged on and killed it then and there. At two in the morning.

How sad can you get! And by the way also, the Brooks saddle is now gloriously soft and supple. I win. 

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device