Hodophobia

Yesterday was a bit of a catastrophe. I was supposed to be attending a presentation on the learning platform Robertsbridge Community College (where I work) will be using. The presentation was in Eastbourne at 13:30. I left Robertsbridge at 12:30 to give myself plenty of time to find the venue. I had been to St. Mary's House before on a work-related presentation and managed to get lost on the way for about two hours.

Well yesterday's journey was a marked improvement. The roads to Eastbourne from Robertsbridge (via Battle) are fantastic and I'll be sure to visit them again when I finally get my big bike. But as soon as I got into Eastbourne I became... misplaced. I must have ridden the ring road five times and just missed my destination at least three times. I travelled from one end of Eastbourne to the other, hopelessly lost, and found myself on unfamiliar roads (and roads that were becoming uncomfortably familiar - in a sort of "I've just been down this route!" way) in a vain attempt to get to the venue on time.

I road around Hampden Park, two different golf courses, along the seafront, past a hospital, down several dual carriageways, and around dozens of roundabouts (Eastbourne is practically made of roundabouts).

I finally arrived at around 14:53 - the event finished at 15:30! I had been lost for one and a half hours, my arse was killing me, I had a headache, I was busting for the toilet, and now I had to find a parking space. Well at least the CG125 has no problem fitting between two parked cars.

And when I managed to get into the toilets they appeared to be designed for pygmies or something because they were built to a grand height of two and a half feet tall. I had to take all of my bike gear off to sit down. And, as usual, everyone else was dressed in suits and ties. I get the feeling no one takes me seriously when I walk in covered in bike gear, but then I can't take myself seriously if I wear a suit and tie (or even a shirt for that matter).