5 after midnight, and I've just had long overdue dinner for two with the Mrs, in the Jamie Oliver restaurant in Bath (good but not brilliant). We're staying with my Mum out in the styx and she's baby sitting. Before heading back out of town - and no internet, I have to send some SB#4 Emails; a PDF to Mick Phillips in Italy for proof reading, a new layout proposal to GI, and give some constructive critisism to James Bettinson who's just done some layouts too. The long closed internet cafe luckily left its server switched on, so standing in the street with a Lassie hard-drive sticking out of my pocket, it's business as (un)usual.
My rubberized Ortleib courrier bag is my own all-weather Tardis man-bag. Apparently if I was to get washed overboard it could act as a small life-raft; it's so air-tight it could even act as an airbag if I crash with the bike. Can't say I'm in a hurry to put that theory to the test. BP
If I'd known the trouble you'd gone to to send that pdf, I might have given it more urgent attention...
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