The thing about riding is that it's always an adventure. However well you know the roads you're on, you don't know what else is on them this time. Any particular ride has never happened before.
It was due to be dry to the south and east, so I took my favourite route down to Brighton, thinking of going to either my usual coffee shop. A wholly familiar ride and destination.
The traffic gods were feeling oddly benign, and I had a lovely clear run down. This does not happen on that route. Ever.
It was so clear, that by the time I got to Brighton, I'd forgotten it was Pride weekend, and therefore my favourite bike rank was suspended and the coffee shop (largely my usual because of proximity to said bike rank) was blocked off.
The annoying part was not seeing the suspension sign until after I'd parked up.
But as I snarled up the side streets and back ways I found a new bike rank: larger and deeper and conveniently tucked next to a brick wall that would stop any overly wide turns from hitting actual bikes.
And a short stroll away I found a new independent coffee shop, with a reasonable brunch menu and friendly staff quite happy for me to occupy a table big enough to accommodate my lid as well.
My usual route to a familiar place wound up a brand new adventure.
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