I’ve been frequenting a bar in Whitley Bay for several years now. Peter has always referred to it as the Fat Ox. I’d never noticed the name of the pub, but had assumed that the Fat Oxwas a Peter-made-up-name. Usually, I’ll leave this venue at short notice (when someone notices the last Metro is due). But, this evening, I kept a close on the time and left before the last but one Metro. As I left the pub, I looked up.

And saw that Peter hadn’t invented the pub’s name.

I couldn’t dwell on it, though, because chips were needed. They were very nice. I used to buy food from the very same premises when I stayed in a B&B here a few years ago (it was unplanned and was a precursor to divorce). I’d recommend the place if I could recall its name.

Anyway, upon reaching the Metro station, I felt an urge to take up cycling again.

And, after only a couple of minutes, the Metro arrived.

I’m currently at ‘South Goss-forth‘. According to the recorded Metro voice. While I’m pleased I’ve made it this far, I’m considering whether I can make it to Gateshead without having to disembark.

I shall stop now. I need to concentrate.