Admiralty Road West, 44 km. Unlike past weekends (burn in morning, rain in afternoon), the morning sky is a cloudy sky. To taunt the clouds, I put on my sunblock and cycle with my camera. I retire my very first pair of bicycle shorts (5.5 years old) and ride with a new pair. When my bum feels good, so does my brain. What comfort; sentimentality and hanging on had gotten in the way of comfort. It (the sky, not the shorts) rains but does not pour. The water does not spray up in a parabola from my wheels. My saddle bag feels dry but it is not. So what if it is plastic, the water gets in somehow and my camera gets damp. But it bothers me not. Because it still works. Back home, I warm up my insides with home-brewed chai, after a messy, foul-tasting first attempt on Fri.
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