This is how I roll

I could probably get away with starting this with a quip about lemons and lemonade, but I'm not going to. Suffice to say that in the past couple of months I've jettisoned rapidly from 'no plan' to 'a (probably mental but I'm doing it anyway) plan'. 

And that plan is to ride my bike from London to Belfast and set up shop there for a while. (Did I mention the 'probably mental but I'm doing it anyway' flavour?)

Belfast. I mean, it's the obvious next step. The weather is fantastic and the dulcet tones of the locals have garnered nothing but glorification and adoring fans the world over. Frankly, it's amazing there's not a mass exodus from this thriving metropolis they call London to that cultural melting pot of innovative delight that is Belfast. Right??? Exactly. Or something. 

I've always thought Belfast would be an interesting place to visit. And I was right - it was incredibly interesting. I will confess, however, that I got a little more than I bargained for on my first visit and soon thereafter found myself in love. Not with the city itself, per se, but with a charming young resident we'll call Al. (That's you Al, wave!)

And you know what? Over this past year I've found plenty to like about the town itself, too. There are the obvious things, like being able to get a side of potatoes delivered with your pizza, and the fact that it's seemingly impossible to more than 15 minutes from your destination at any time, but also the market and the ocean and walks along the river, the increasingly exciting local culinary and beer scene, the changing murals and the preponderance of rainbows. 

There are some dark bits, too, which I can't say I 'like', but which I will say intrigue me. It feels like a place that's still finding it's feet - a naive view, certainly, and one I'll look forward to refining, over pints no doubt (where, arguably, I do all my best thinking and which possibly gave rise to this 'plan'). 

There are easy ways to get to Belfast. The flight takes 50 minutes when the wind blows in the right direction. 

But why do in an afternoon what your can do in a week at a greater financial, personal and sit-bone cost, I ask you? Adventure calls! 

And I will answer her. She's a siren. A noisy, goading trick of the light who quickens the heart and frightens the bank account. She, who sets fire to sensibility and laughs in the face of logic, is, it seems, my mistress. So. In 10 sleeps from now, I'm farewelling my London home of this past half decade and getting on my bike and cycling to Belfast. 

The only thing I'm packing is the very thing that's accompanied me on all my best London adventures - my housemate and co-conspirator in all things slightly mad, Jai. (That's you Jai, wave!)

I'm going to record my pedal powered journey here. As you can see below, it's going great so far...

Stay tuned. Route plan to follow!