sweet sweet meat
In some godforsaken moment of madness probably brought on my my parents persistent invitations to go running with them when i visit (i maintain, running should never be placed in the same sentence as fun, unless it involves laughing at, and participants) i decided to use my long weekend last autumn to go on a long bike ride.

I cycled from Bristol to the Forest of Dean on this little whim - packed some snacks and enough cash to stay at a little pub i found, and made it to the middle of the forest. It was a lovely ride, and at 35-40 miles of hilly ground to get there, was about as much as my un-trained legs could handle.

So the next day i decided a detour to Tintern would be fun, to see the abbey an stuff, seeing as i was on some sort of weird, stubby holiday of sorts. On the way i stopped to check out a tiny village church as i have a fascination with them and particularly enjoy making loud noises in the echoey bits. On this occasion, the echoey bits had responded with gusto, so i decided to put a couple of quid in their collection box. And then, in an act i can only attribute to my undoubted early-onset dementia, I proceeded to leave my wallet, complete with credit cards, in the church.

So i get halfway home, and my stomach is rumbling like a herd of stampeding wildebeast, and i see this lovely old school roadside caff. they make bacon sarnies, so i order one with a massive grin on my face, as never is a bacon butty so guilt-free as when you "need" it to ride the rest of the way home. the cashier asked how far i'd come (must have been wearing my bike helmet) and i described my route. she was duly impressed and wished me luck. At this point, i got out my rucksack and rooted about for my cash. It took some time before the realisation sank in that it was not going to be found.

Trying not to look and sound too dejected and utterly failing, I asked her to cancel my order as i did not have anything to pay her with. Before i could start snivelling, i walked out and cursed my way back to my bike.

This sensational woman then ran after me and offered me the sandwich anyway. I was more grateful than I'd ever been for any food-related gift, ever, and the sandwich tasted like it had been crafted by moses himself, in the sandwich shop in the sky.

I continued my ride with a full stomach and enjoyed it all the more for this little episode.

i got her name before i went, and sent her chocolates when i got back. i like the idea of nice deeds going round and round.

apologies for length - if you were fitter you wouldn't be so knackered anyway
( greenish, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 11:29, 2 replies)

Pedantic comment alert -
Moses wouldn't have made a bacon sarnie, being Jewish.

However, have a click anyway.

Did you get the wallet back?
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 14:51, closed)

whoops
i live in Stamford Hill so I really ought to know better :]

Actually getting the wallet back was another good deed story - I called a guesthouse in the village where the church was, and the lovely lady who owned it went to the church and posted my wallet back to me. I told her to take the fiver from it to pay for postage, but she didn't.

It's lovely when the world reminds you that not all the people who live on it are cunts, sometimes by quite a margin.
( greenish, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 16:10, closed)