12:49 am and day 3 had creeped into day 4. I was laying in the swallow barn in a barn, eating Hula Hoops and trying to read my copy of The Cruel Sea I'd lugged 306 miles up the country. My mind dotted around conversations and thoughts from that evening with Amanda B to the pondering that I'd indulged in as I rode. If anything I've come away more confused than ever. There appears to very few certainties in the realm of adoption with nuance and questions in direct opposition to dogma and historic practice.
We slept late and took a lift to the nearest bike shop after I've fixed yet another puncture.
After a quick fix we headed off into the rain. In all my days cycling I've never been so cold with the wet. Zippy weeped with joy as his rear mech unravelled, stood under a bush I pushed my skills to the limit while he ate yet another snickers and giggled.
23 miles later we drew up to my old friend's, D & D. As adopters of 15 children they are legends and caught Mrs C & I when we fell. Top draw people.
True to form they fed us and dried out our clothes, two hours later we set off on the last leg wrapped in plastic bags, classy.
The last leg through the industrial landscape of County Durham and Tyneside was in stark contrast to the central London landscape we'd set off from. The temperature dropped and we slogged past the iconic northern landscapes.
Then we arrived in the dark, Mrs C a Colour Carwen and Lotty welcomed us an we were relieved.
We said some words, I threw my parliament green mud at her face. Northumberlandia is a thing of beauty but to many who live in her shadow she's a symbol of corruption and greed.
We prayed and then we took our last trip less than a mile to my home.
Zippy is an awesome companion. Tensing to Hillary, Oates to Scott, Golum to Frodo. I swear if he offers me one more Snicker I shall not be responsible for my actions.