The Peddars Way and Norfolk - a Cycling Perambulation

It was a drizzly Sunday in late July when I set off from Kent to Thetford in Norfolk where the forecast looked decidedly better. I normally use the train to reach my cycling destinations, but in the interest of social distancing my ancient Ford Focus got its chance to show what it can do!

The scenery was quite interesting as I approached Thetford on the A11, with a 127-foot war memorial column and scattered bits of forest. I parked in a free car park (rare as hen's teeth, as I believe the saying goes) and cycled into the town centre, settling upon a Greene King pub where I had to text a number to sign in. Outside there was a statue of Thomas Paine, known as the Father of the American Revolution, with his quotations etched around the plinth. I generally agreed with all of these, although some patriotic young people passing by loudly expressed an opinion that the statue shouldn't be there. Dad's Army was filmed in Thetford too, doubling as Walmington-on-Sea in spite of being over forty miles from the sea. After Norwich, Great Yarmouth and King's Lynn, Thetford is Norfolk's fourth largest town.

I cycled eastward on a cycle path and then an undulating lane as it got dusky. There was a strong smell of peaches, and I turned left onto the Peddars Way path which follows the route of the ancient Roman road for 46 miles to the North Norfolk coast. It is believed that the Romans merely straightened out a much older trackway that was an extension of the Greater Ridgeway. I set up camp at the edge of a small wood, eating bread, fish and cheese before sleeping.

I was awake as it got light, and once it was clear that I wasn't going to fall asleep again I packed away and tried to pump my bike tyre up, but I couldn't attach the pump, so I had to ride all the way back to Thetford on a flat tyre. After waiting for Halfords to open I learned that there was no mechanic available. I then tried a bike shop in a council estate but it was shuttered up and someone said that it had been that way since lockdown started. In the end I drove to a repair shop in a forest park about six miles away, had a short walk while waiting for the fitting of a new inner tube and then returned to the same car park in Thetford and started again.

Beyond the point where I'd camped, the Peddars Way became an 'official' cycling route, with the occasional deviation where the Roman route no longer exists or is merely designated 'footpath.' There are clear signs to deter cyclists from using the footpath sections which is fair enough – clarity reduces the temptation to try one's luck! The terrain took me through forests, along wide farm tracks clearly made for large agricultural machinery and along lanes which occasionally subsumed the Roman course.

Contrary to popular opinion I can confirm that Norfolk is not flat. There were some significant climbs, but whereas in Kent these are often short and sharp, in Norfolk they tend to be long and gentle without the reward of a spectacular view at the top, which isn't to say that the countryside wasn't very pleasant. In addition one has to plan a bit. In more populated counties one gets used to finding a shop or pub within three or four miles, but well-endowed villages can be much greater distances apart where the population is spread more thinly. I also noticed that on the main roads mileages to significant towns are often in the thirties whereas in Kent you'll rarely see a distance above the teens.

With all this in mind, I decided to detour to the town of Swaffham and refuel with a couple of Guinnesses outside the Red Lion (the most popular pub name in the UK). An elderly woman from Dereham chatted as she passed me, and although it was only 4pm, I tucked into lasagne, chips and salad in a café, again not knowing how far the next facilities might be.

Back on the Peddars Way, I soon came to the village of Castle Acre where I wandered around the outside of the impressive ruined priory. Three young ladies were trying to record a promotional video of some kind by a stone archway which was once a gateway to the village. I waited until they messed up a take to wander in and take the obligatory photo on my phone (of the arch, not the young ladies!). As the village name suggests, there was also a castle here.

After a second night's camping I continued all the way to Holme-next-the-Sea. There were a lot of fields filled with 'pig huts' and I stopped to look at a Bronze Age burial mound or barrow along this section. Later I passed through ground owned by 'Sandringham' and the hills became more bumpy. The final miles of the cycling route were on lanes, with a fairly challenging climb before Ringstead, where I bought some pills for my headache which I think was merely muscle strain from the wild camping.

After briefly resting on a bench at Holme, where I decided to avoid running the gauntlet of flying golf balls to get to the sea, I rode to the resort of Hunstanton, one of the only places on the east coast of England where the sun sets over the sea, due to its location on The Wash. I stopped to photograph the classic view of the lighthouse through the stone arch, just as I did with my father in 2001 when we were visiting all the mainland lighthouses for our book project, 'England and Wales in a Flash.' A board informed me that St Edmund allegedly landed here and after his reign he was used for archery practice and brutally killed, with a wolf reputedly guarding his head afterwards. I continued into the bustling town centre and found a café where I had a full breakfast with black pudding. Although the town has the feel of an upbeat 'Margate' or 'Hastings,' its population is surprisingly under five thousand.

I continued southward via Heacham and Snettisham, managing to avoid actually riding on the A149 which had a huge queue going the other way, towards Hunstanton and the beach no doubt. So much for social distancing. I passed milestones with the distance to King's Lynn counting down from '10' to '8,' which was where I turned off and found a nice pub beer garden, meriting a stop. This was just as well as a glance at my 'map app' revealed that I was going the wrong way.

The road wound its way up towards Sandringham, with a regal looking avenue where the forest was kept beyond neat lawn-like verges - an approach fit for a queen! My next port of call was the small town of Fakenham, and I didn't pass a single building for about five miles on one particular lane, which ran through a valley with strips of evergreen forest on the gentle slopes. I paused for a rest near a bridleway section and a lady in a car asked if I was alright. People are nice here, you see!

Eventually I got to Fakenham, sussing out the suitability of a heath-like area for camping before heading for the town centre, resorting to Wetherspoons as I fancied a curry, thus breaking my embargo on the chain. Reading their magazine, it seemed that Tim Martin's comments about furlough were widely misreported and that he merely said that he wouldn't blame his staff if they got jobs in supermarkets, so perhaps my stance on Wetherspoons was too hasty anyway. Whilst fake news abounds online, it is worrying when reputable media sources prefer to go for whatever makes a good story than sticking to the facts. With my conscience clear, I was pleased to see that Fakenham itself had a good social distancing system where arrows ensure that the observant always walk on the left pavement.

The rest of my trip involved taking in Dereham, which is the capital of the Breckland district of Norfolk, and Watton, where I found the locals particularly friendly, although when I moved to a quieter part of the pub I did overhear a woman in tears being told to 'get a grip' by her friend. I hope their girls' night out was salvaged.

Often foxes can be heard barking incessantly in the night when wild camping, but the area around Thetford is also rife with military activity. I got used to the planes and helicopters, but one night it sounded as though machine guns were repeatedly being fired. My horror-writer friend from Norwich also came out to meet me one day, relishing a photo opportunity with a statue of Captain Mainwaring in Thetford, racing up the steps to the top of the castle mound and possibly relishing the cider even more.

On the sixth night of camping I hung a tarpaulin from branches and camped beneath it as showers were forecast. This cemented my decision to make the following day the finale. During this, I rode along the Harling Drove, a ten-mile route through the forest north of Thetford, which uses sandy tracks (difficult for cycling) and the occasional lane. I added this to the collection of ancient droves that I've cycled, specifically the Shaftesbury Drove and one on the Isle of Wight. This was the first day of compulsory mask-wearing and I searched in vain for a shop selling postcards of Norfolk in Thetford before driving home. The merit of trying to skimp on a bit of money by using the Blackwall Tunnel instead of the QE2 Bridge was questionable as I encountered a two-mile queue, but I can confirm that the 'improved' section of the M20 around West Malling is much better than it used to be during rush hour.

If you've enjoyed this write-up there are many more in 'Stair-Rods and Stars - a Cycling Perambulation.' You can also feel good by helping independent authors in the cut-throat world of publishing!

The North Kent Coast and Bedgebury Forest - a Cycling Perambulation

As the lockdown rules have changed a bit and we can now drive to different locations for exercise (in England), I've enjoyed several pleasant rides in different parts of Kent.

It was on the hottest day of the year so far when I drove to the town of Faversham, which proudly houses one of only a handful of copies of the Magna Carta. I parked on a loop of road that crosses the dual carriageway Thanet Way to the east of the town. I then got my bike out of the boot and rode via the village of Graveney to Seasalter. I remember being taken here as a teenager when my grandfather was doing some maintenance work on a chalet. I was off school for three weeks with chicken pox so my grandparents took me there for a day out, mostly to relieve the boredom I think. You could view this 'boredom relief' as a practice run for six months on furlough 32 years later, although once 'sensible' camping is permitted and pubs are tentatively open I can see more options!

When I came into the suburbs of Whitstable, a town famed for its oysters, I tried to get to the sea by crossing a bridge, but the track was a dead end one side and private the other, so I continued along the road. When I reached the quayside with all its seafood stalls I enjoyed not a pint of whelks but a cup of tea while sitting on a wooden construction. It was busy but people were still being sensible about social distancing, unlike the crazed scenes on the TV that day from Bournemouth and Camber on the south coast. Perhaps city dwellers desperate for sea air with a somewhat lax approach to coronavirus just haven't heard of Whitstable!

I continued along the sea wall to Herne Bay, passing a point where a spit of sand runs out to sea and people were walking back and forth along it, a little like the characters in a painting by MC Escher. There was also a sandbank marooned in the water along this section. Getting stranded on there with the tide coming in would take social isolation to another level. Further on the remnants of the end of an old pier can be seen at Herne Bay. The wind farm, which can be seen out in the estuary / sea, was the world's largest from April 2013 until September 2018. Looking back to the west you can see the Isle of Sheppey, England's second largest island after Wight.

I sat down by Herne Bay's current pier and then headed inland, using a shop in Sea Street to buy some lunch before riding along Bullockstone Road, which climbed through trees. I then took a dead end lane into West Blean Wood and sat down in the shade near a gate to have my lunch. It was very hot by now, but I hoped the largely wooded route I intended to take back to the car would provide some shade.

I rode the track known as New Road which was dead straight as it headed west. I saw a slow worm at the side of a lane at one point. I still think they look more like snakes than legless lizards! Eventually I picked up the Crab and Winkle Way and headed south. This is an off-road cycle route from Whitstable to Canterbury which was named after one of the UK's first railway lines, opening in 1830 and operating until 1953. The cycle route makes only minimal use of the former track bed but is very pleasant. I came out onto the A290 near the University of Kent and mused about whether or not my own life would have been better, worse or just different if I had gone to uni at some point. I guess I would have had more money by now, but would I have had the time to pursue the things I enjoy as much, such as biking, camping and writing my books? The jury's out.

The philosophising came to an end as I turned down a road to Rough Common and picked up the next track into the woods on the northwest side of Canterbury, another 'New Road.' This trail ran for several miles and eventually curved down to meet a lane. I turned left and felt the full force of the heat as I climbed a shadeless hill. On the next lane, there was a glorious view before the inevitable descent. I rode back to the car via Staplestreet and at one point I thought a stone was rolling down the road, but the sound was produced by either my tyre sticking to the tarmac or the tarmac sticking to my tyre.

Personally I quite like the heat, which makes it rather ironic that I am perhaps one of the most vociferous worriers about global warming you will meet. I get the impression that I am in a minority on both counts. "Eco-worrier and proud!" I hasten to add that usually I use public transport to reach my riding locations but this isn't advised at the moment due to that confounded virus.

Another ride I did as we near the end of the lockdown was a loop around Bedgebury Forest. This is a lovely area of public woodland, which has two cycling circuits of eight miles in length (I don't do kilometres - much!). If you enjoy unusual acoustic songs 'Lady of Bedgebury' recounts the tragic tale of a murdered woman's body which was found in the forest and never identified (YouTube, Spotify, etc.).

The green 'family circuit' is fairly gentle and there is a red route for mountain bikers. I chose the latter, and the banked curves and humps along the furiously winding loop were tremendous fun. There are also a few rocky sections which my suspensionless bike isn't really up to, and just for adrenaline addicts there is a 'black route' with jumps that would appeal to stuntmen. I skipped this section!

Passing out of the forest I climbed towards the A21 on the B2079 and turned left to the village of Flimwell, managing to avoid actually riding on this frenetic road when a pavement appeared – certainly safer and not causing any inconvenience in a rural location like this. I relished the opportunity to have a cup of tea outside a café cum farm shop, this being my first outdoor beverage of 2020, and after this I headed to the edge of the large village of Hawkhurst and returned to my car via Slip Mill Lane and a short byway which presented me with a gruelling climb as a finisher, before a pleasant drive back to 'Ash Vegas,' which is how residents with a sense of irony often refer to the expanding Kentish town of Ashford.

The Long Song (Consecutive Longest UK Number Ones And More)

[Updated June 2021]

'The long song' used to be a feature on Simon Mayo's Radio 2 show where he played the tracks that don't get a lot of airplay, at least not in their entirety. Well, I was curious as to what were the longest tracks by my favourite recording artists. It's the kind of thing you occupy your mind with during a coronavirus lockdown and it also combines two of my favourite interests, music and statistics, so what's not to like? Now, all lengths are taken from the particular versions of the CDs / downloads that I have, so no bickering please. Let's start, as any music-based discussion should, with the Beatles.

1) Helter Skelter (White Album Super Deluxe)* 12.54
2) Revolution 1 (White Album Super Deluxe)* 10.29
3) Revolution 9 8.22
4) I Want You (She's So Heavy) 7.47
5) Hey Jude 7.08
6) It's All Too Much 6.28
7) What's The New Mary Jane (Anthology version)* 6.12
8) You Know My Name (Look Up The Number) (Anthology version)* 5.43
9) A Day In The Life 5.34
10) Within You Without You 5.05
11) While My Guitar Gently Weeps 4.45
12) I Am The Walrus 4.37
13) Helter Skelter 4.30
14) Free As A Bird* 4.26
15) Come Together 4.21

The asterisks indicate tracks/versions released after the Beatles career had ended, and apart from the first two I haven't included other White Album 'outtake' tracks, a number of which would feature in the lower half of the list. There are a number of curiosities still in the vault too, such as Carnival Of Light, a sound collage pre-dating Revolution 9, which is said to run in excess of 14 minutes. There is also the legendary 28-minute version of Helter Skelter. When asked why only 12 minutes were released the response was that the track becomes rather boring after a while, which is fair enough I guess. Whilst the Beatles weren't particularly renowned for 'longuns,' Hey Jude held the record for the longest British UK number one single from 1968 until 1997, but more about that later. Also worth seeking out online is the unreleased long version of Flying, which runs in excess of 9 minutes and sees the Beatles dabbling in the genre which later became known as ambient music. OK, onto Pink Floyd.

1) Atom Heart Mother 23.44
2) Echoes 23.35
3) Soundscape (Pulse secret track) 21.49
4) Dogs 17.04
5) Interstellar Overdrive (London 1966/1967) 16.43
6) Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts 1-4) 13.31
7) Alan's Psychedelic Breakfast 13.00
8) Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts 5-9) 12.23
9) A Saucerful Of Secrets 12.00
10) Nick's Boogie (London 1966/1967) 11.50
11) Pigs (Thee Different Ones) 11.22
12) Sheep 11.24
13) Interstellar Overdrive 9.41
14) Sorrow 8.47
15) High Hopes 8.22

I haven't included tracks from live albums, which means the four 'longuns' from the live disc of Ummagumma are excluded for example. The 'soundscape' is a bit of a shoo-in to be honest, and interestingly the band chose to break up a few of their epics like Sysyphus and The Narrow Way into different parts. Now, Bob Dylan is a particularly interesting example as I seem to recall him once being asked 'Why are your songs so long?' and replying something along the lines of 'I can't believe you have the nerve to ask me that!'

1) Murder Most Foul 16.54
2) Highlands 16.32
3) Tempest 13.55
4) Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands 11.22
5) Desolation Row 11.21
6) Joey 11.05
7) Brownsville Girl 11.03

8) Key West Philosopher 9.34
9) Tin Angel 9.05
10) Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts 8.54
11) Ain't Talkin 8.48
12) Hurricane 8.32
13) Ballad In Plain D 8.17
14) Idiot Wind 7.50
15) Standing In The Doorway 7.43
= Spirit On The Water 7.43

Again live tracks have been omitted and I did look up the lengths of numbers 4 and 5 on Wikipedia as they are so close. Next, I thought it would be interesting to look at consecutive longest number ones in the UK since the charts began in 1952. Again, the times are from the versions I have.

1) Here In My Heart (Al Martino) 3.14 (1952)
2) You Belong To Me (Jo Stafford) 3.15 (1953)
3) Secret Love (Doris Day) 3.44 (1954)
4) Mary's Boychild (Harry Belafonte) 4.25 (1957)
5) House Of The Rising Sun (The Animals) 4.32 (1964)
6) Those Were The Days (Mary Hopkin) 5.10 (1968)
7) Hey Jude (The Beatles) 7.11 (1968)
8) D'You Know What I Mean (Oasis) 7.22 (1997)
9) All Around The World (Oasis) 9.38 (1998)

For the last three I've googled the official single lengths as people can get awfully worked up about these things! Surprisingly Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, often regarded as the number one hit that broke the mould when it came to length, was five seconds short of 6 minutes, so it was still a good way off of breaking the Beatles' length-record at the time of its release in 1975. Winnifred Atwell's 'Let's Have Another Party' was number one in 1955 and ran to 5.54 but this was across both sides of the vinyl single so I view it more as a double A-side.

Not only is it interesting that the last two on the list were both by Oasis, but also that the preceding two were both written by Paul McCartney. 'All Around The World' also seems to be heavily influenced by 'Hey Jude' with its 'na na na' refrain. I doubt that anybody is going to break the record now, and to be honest I can't take more than a couple of minutes of most modern songs anyway, but that's just personal taste. 

And just for info, the longest record to stall at number two in the UK was Laurie Anderson's 'Oh Superman' in 1981 which gobbled up 8 minutes and 21 seconds. She was number one to Lou Reed however as she later became his wife. Lou himself had pushed the boundaries back in 1968 by putting the cacophonous 17-minute track, 'Sister Ray,' on the Velvet Underground's second album.

Don McClean's 'American Pie,' which is often regarded as the longest 'number two hit' runs to 8.33 but like Winnifred Atwell's disc, the track was split across the two sides of the vinyl '45.'

Another track often cited as an epic is Led Zeppelin's 'Stairway to Heaven.' However, it was never released as a UK single and it is actually ninth in the Led Zep length rankings which are topped by 'In My Time Of Dying.' Meanwhile, the longest track I have in my collection is Mike Oldfield's 'Amarok' which runs for an entire hour and fills an entire album. As far as I am aware, Richard Branson wanted him to produce a commercial sequel to Tubular Bells so Mr Oldfield presented Virgin with this beguiling track instead. Quite frankly, given Mr Branson's brass neck of late, my sympathies lie firmly with Mike. After that we get a few half-hour tracks by the king of improvisation, Miles Davis, and then we're into the realm of Pink Floyd, etc. Another couple of eighteen-minuters I like are Cat Stevens' 'Foreigner Suite' and Arlo Guthrie's 'Alice's Restaurant' which is more of a story than a song!

Oh, and finally, if you insist, here are the longest tracks by Adam Colton & Teresa Colton. Let's face it, this is what you came here for after all!

1) Silicon Symphony (Parts 1-3) 11.36

2) Silicon Symphony (Parts 4-6) 11.24

3) The Lighthouse Trail 6.58
4) Arizona Sunrise 6.55
5) The Travelling Kind 5.34
6) Spanish Nights 5.26
7) Push Button One 5.22
8) The Other Side Of Town 5.18
9) Rainbow Moon 5.11
10) Train To Nowhere 5.04

Ok, we are a mother and son act from Kent. Look us up on your favourite online music channel if curious or find us on Amazon. We also did a cover of Billy Joel's 'Piano Man' which surprised us by running to 6.43. The Silicon Symphony is actually a story in six parts - an abridged form of my novel The Nightshade Project. The album, 'Silicon Country,' which contains both of these tracks will be out early in 2021.

It's taken a good hour to write this so that's another lockdown afternoon successfully filled. And I didn't even get round to Hotel California or Telegraph Road.

STOP PRESS: The musical musings and humour continue in '2021: A Musical Odyssey' - now available in digital and paperback formats.

Thoughts (and Humour) on the Lockdown

I type this particular blog post while thinking of Jane Austen writing while holed up in her garret room! Who else misses the good old days when a lock in just meant a late night at the pub? This cornoavirus curfew is certainly the biggest disruption to everyday life that I've ever experienced, but I guess those who have been through the Second World War have experienced much worse. Now we know that working from home is actually an option for large numbers of people I wonder if it will begin to become the norm generally. Less travelling (particularly flying) is what the planet desperately needs, and just as coronavirus fears seemed like a storm in a teacup in January but very real now, climate change fears that seem over-dramatic now could be lifestyle changing for everyone's children and grandchildren. And nobody is even talking about what the world will be like a few generations later.

Anyway, the time off work has given me a chance for a bit of creativity and I recently released a book called 'Codename: Narcissus' on Amazon which can also be downloaded on iBooks, etc. I've had a go at writing a novel this time and the premise of the book is that different people view life in different ways. The central character cannot understand why his selfish outlook is considered undesirable, believing life to be a Darwinian 'survival of the fittest' situation. How many times have we heard that excuse for selfishness - remember the bankers? As you might expect there's a bit of surrealism in there but hopefully you'll find the story entertaining.

Apart from writing I've been keeping myself occupied with music. If you'll excuse a little bit of cheeky humour I've thought up a 'lockdown top ten.'

Ghost town – The Specials
Living on my own – Freddie Mercury
Isolation – John Lennon
It's the end of the world as we know it – R.E.M.
I want to break free – Queen
Strange days – The Doors
Climbing up the walls – Radiohead
Doom and gloom – Rolling Stones
Where have all the good times gone – The Kinks
My Corona – The Knack (sorry, bad pun!)

These are strictly 'tongue in cheek' and of course as we all know that we just have to stay in to save lives, but humour is how we get through things, isn't it? If you fancy trying out some 'easy listening,' there are now three albums worth of acoustic songs penned by myself and my mother on YouTube, Spotify, iTunes, etc. You can check them out for free by searching for 'Adam Colton and Teresa Colton.' I don't normally plug external sites but I highly recommend the Distrokid site to any unsigned musicians wanting to get their music out there.

I must admit, I still like to buy good old fashioned CDs and upload them to my iPod. I'm probably being a bit of a Luddite, but I do prefer to have something physical to show for my money. On the one one hand this could be viewed as wasting resources, but buying second hand is just using an item that has already been made, and I wonder what the comparative electricity usage is for playing an album from a CD or iPod with streaming it each time. Well, we've lots of time to ponder such ethical questions now!

Even the idea of listening to albums is perhaps a little dated now as many people just stream individual songs. It is interesting how the term 'album' came about by the way. Although the term had been used for sets of classical music before, it was when technology progressed to 78 rpm records that the name really stuck. You could only get about three minutes of music on each side of the disc (hence the standard length for popular songs), so when it came to releasing Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite in 1909, the discs were put in a book of paper sleeves resembling a photograph album, thus the term took off from there.

Thoughts on Narcissism and Psychopathy

I know that politics is a huge turn-off for many readers as it's coming at us every time we turn on the news, but I wanted to take a more psychological perspective here, regarding our expectations and what may drive those who seek our votes. As always I stress that my blog is an opinion and more of an exercise in juggling around a few thoughts than anything!

In my book of short stories 'Seven Dreams of Reality' I included a tale of somebody from elsewhere visiting earth to observe the behaviour of humans concluding that there are two types of human and that some exist in an altered state where the feelings of others don't really register. Ten years later it seems to me that what was just an idea in a story is actually not far off the mark.

For most of us listening to the news is just a catalogue of horrors – murder, torture, rape, abuse, violence, etc. and there is a sense of incredulity that human beings can do such things to one another. Do extreme circumstances where survival is threatened push human beings into primal behaviour? Or is it trauma / lack of love in childhood that pushes many relatively comfortable humans into a life of selfishness and disregard for others? Perhaps both.

With a general election on the horizon in the UK I often hear (and indeed experience) a sense of despair at politicians who promise the earth and seem to deliver very little. Once again, is this deception deliberate and what kind of person could live with themselves having got into a position of power by lying? Obviously I generalise and not all politicians are the same, but it does seem that those who are enticed by power and wealth the most are those who are more likely to compromise morality in order to achieve it. It is commonly known that there is a much higher proportion of psychopathy among bosses of corporations than among the general population for example. But of course in politics, showing this ruthless desire for power and influence would not achieve the necessary votes. Thus, a certain amount of deception is essential for those at the more narcissistic end of the spectrum to succeed.

I have heard that there are two sliding scales within personality; 'directive v friendly' and 'analytical v expressive.' Potential politicians have to appear to be friendly to get the votes but are more likely to be directive in order to be attracted to the role in the first place. I wonder if this may even come right down to the level where we might expect a pub landlord or landlady to sit chatting to us because he / she has to appear friendly to customers, but he / she may in fact be just thinking about the business and not really interested in what we have to say at all - directive thinking i.e. working towards a specific aim.

Moving up to the pathological level, it is often quoted that around 1% of the population are psychopaths and around 4% are narcissists. These are two significantly different things but a lack of empathy is consistent in both. Thus, 5% of people are not going to play by the accepted norms of society if they can get away with it.

Have you ever encountered somebody you just cannot reason with? No matter how hard you try to tailor your arguments to suit their outlook they simply will not give an inch or concede any common ground in a debate. For them a debate is not about thrashing things out and finding some kind of solution; it is merely about prolonging the debate and staying rock solid. Of course this doesn't achieve much, but once again we are assuming that they want to achieve something – a solution to the argument and peace. Perhaps prolonging the argument for entertainment value or attention could be the aim? I am not saying that every time this happens you are dealing with a narcissist, but as I said, not everybody sings from the same hymn sheet.

There is a huge resource of information on narcissism online so I won't explore the subject in depth here. I guess to most of the 95% it is important to what degree the person can control this awkward or ruthless behaviour or whether it is deliberate. As hinted above, it is believed that narcissism is caused by a lack of unconditional love in childhood resulting in a lack of object constancy, which means that people and things are viewed as 'all good' or 'all bad,' and they can alternate between the two within seconds, kind of like that optical illusion where you either see a candlestick or two faces but never both at once. So with this 'black or white' view of the world, I guess a minor comment can feel like a full blown verbal attack and the wounded narcissist reacts as they feel is appropriate. But at the same time does this excuse the disproportionate reaction? Well, this is a deep ethical rabbit hole to go down – to what extent can anybody control who they are?

With most psychopaths I think it could be different, insofar as they may actually enjoy seeing others suffer so there seems to be an element of choice here, but as always there are gradations within both conditions – how the 95% love those shades of grey!

Back to politics (ugh!), it seems that perhaps naively we expect our politicians to be the same as us. We expect their consciences to burn because they couldn't deliver a promise or because they decided to sacrifice the needs of the 'insignificant poor' to do a deal with the rich and influential (legal tax avoidance, anyone?). We expect the rich to realise that they are privileged and pay their taxes without complaint, getting a warm feeling because they are funding the NHS for us mere mortals. We expect leaders to find a compromise solution to the endless spiral of murder that goes on in the Middle East, or any other of the world's hot spots over contested territory. We even expect a solution to the Brexit deadlock!

I guess my conclusion here is a word of warning to us all. Are our fears being exploited in order to get us to vote a certain way that will benefit only the upper echelons of society? Are statistics being quoted correctly? (Please check any statements in my own blogs too – they are only a collection of thoughts based on what I've previously read after all.) Are politicians exploiting the fact that when many people hear terms like 'million' and 'billion' they just think 'large numbers' when the difference between the two is the difference between one day and nearly three years? And Brexit wasn't solved in a day after all. Until next time, happy voting!

UPDATE: My novel "Codename: Narcissus," a psychological tale about narcissism is now available physically on Amazon and digitally on other online stores. Alternatively email hamcopublishing@aol.com for details.

Ashford (Kent) to Deal and Dover - a Cycling Perambulation

Spring is coming but winter wasn't really so bad. February presented us with the hottest winter temperature ever recorded in the UK. Whilst this was very pleasant, it worried me a little because I do wonder what extremes of weather we are unleashing for our descendants. Well, not mine as I don't have any, but you get the point!

Whilst any weather incident is just a single event at a single location, folk on both sides of the climate change debate (perhaps including me) often claim it as evidence for their view. The best way to get an objective view must surely be to be to consult the scientists, and I would recommend a book called 'Our Future Earth' (which was written by a geologist called Curt Stager) for anybody seriously interested in the subject and what is most likely to happen in both the short term and the long term. Personally I think we will pass the often talked about 'point of no return' (if we haven't done so already). After all, when you look at the chaos surrounding one country leaving the EU it is hard to imagine the whole world even agreeing on the science (Mr Trump, anyone?), let alone putting something concrete into action for seven billion people.

By the way, that's a US billion by the way. I heard that our good old British twelve-nought billion was signed out of use by the government in 1974, and as Michael Caine used to say 'Not a lot of people know that!' Hey, let's start a political party and get our Great British numbers back. Anyone else up for the nine-nought milliard, the fifteen-nought billiard and the eighteen-nought trillion? If you're a wealthy city stockbroker I imagine you'd dearly love a game of billiards, but you'll have to settle with playing 'milliards' for now!

Well, I'm actually here to talk about a bike ride. Observing a strong westerly March wind, I decided to let it blow me eastward from Ashford in Kent and see where I ended up, so I set off on along the suburban Hythe Road and cut down past the Hooden on the Hill pub to take the lanes to the village of Wye, passing the old sign in the photograph. At one point I had to lift my bike over a fallen tree which a man was in the process of cutting up with a chainsaw. These winds were serious!

I surprised myself by riding all the way up onto the North Downs past the crown chalk carving which looks out over the Stour Valley. Some walkers cheered me on half way up the climb, and as I came along the top of the ridge by the Devil's Kneading Trough restaurant the side-wind almost blew me onto the grass verge a few times. I continued on through Hastingleigh and walked up a steep hill towards the hamlet of Elmsted, by which time I was deep in the rolling green hills. I turned left and descended into a valley, climbing Dean Hill and continued out to Stone Street, the Roman Road that runs from Lympne to Canterbury.

Beyond this was the village of Stelling Minnis with its many little greens on either side of the road. A 'minnis' in an area of common pasture land, and Stelling Minnis's is one of the last manorial commons in Kent, according to Wikipedia. I then took the lane towards Bridge which descends into an empty valley through the hills and eventually passes a former home of James Bond author, Ian Fleming. However, I turned off a few miles before this and climbed eastward towards Barham. At the top, I was surprised to get a glimpse of the port of Ramsgate around twenty miles away before the lane descended through woodland and then climbed a very steep hill back onto the plateau. The sign said that the gradient was 23%.

Soon I descended to Barham village and the climb past the church and cemetery wasn't so harsh. I crossed the A2 dual carriageway and headed for Snowdown, which lived up to its name as a harsh hailstorm came on and I pedalled like mad to get to the station for shelter. Upon realising that catching the next train involved a two-hour wait I concluded that it would take less time to wait for the sun to return and I continued to Nonington which is really quite picturesque with its thatched roofs.

I had to cut through a copse to get around another fallen tree and the lane eastward was surprisingly hilly but without the dramatic scenery I'd become used to. I was impressed at how well shielded the noise from the A256 was as I approached it, but I had to revise my views about the road's 'great design' when I had to sprint across each carriageway lifting my bike over the central crash barrier to reach the country lane on the other side.

There was a long straight on the next lane and I turned right to head into Northbourne. By now I'd lost my hat and this profoundly annoyed me. I seem to lose a woolly hat every winter, and as I had held onto mine well into March it felt like I'd fallen at the last hurdle. Quelling the annoyance, my idea was to head into the seaside town of Deal via Great Mongeham and catch the train home, but it was a rail replacement bus which means 'no bikes allowed.'

Disorientated, I was tempted to pop into the Sir Norman Wisdom, a Wetherspoons pub named in honour of Deal's most famous resident (although Carry On comedian Charles Hawtrey also lived there), but I eschewed this option and pounded my way along the A258 to Dover instead. This ride was nothing short of gruelling, being nearly all uphill and against the wind with a constant flow of traffic. When I reached Dover I cruised down the steep hill past the castle and headed for the Wetherspoons pub there instead.

I must admit I have become quite a fan of Tim Martin's chain over the years, as you pretty much know what to expect when finding yourself in a town you don't really know, and real ale drinkers seem to make up a considerable part of the target market which has got to be good! The chain is actually named after one of Mr Martin's old teachers who said that he'd never amount to anything. Bringing things full cycle (excuse the pun) the only thing that may cause rancour with some customers is Mr Martin's somewhat outspoken views on that old chestnut, Brexit (he is an impassioned 'no deal outtie'). To be honest I've developed Brexit fever which means turning Jeremy Vine's daily debate off the radio and switching to Classic FM.

All there was left to do for me on my ride was to wander up the High Street and catch the fast train back home. If you want to know what a post-M&S High Street looks like, head for Dover – it's probably coming to a town near you next. High town centre rates? We're all in the same boat. And it's sinking!

Ad break: If you've enjoyed this narrative, there are plenty more in my book 'Stair-Rods and Stars' which documents ten cycling trips in Southern England and can be bought on Amazon (digital format too). Some of my older books can even be downloaded for free.

Desert Island Discs - Singles [Adam's Music Reviews #3]

I recently learned that we refer to a collection of songs as an album because when music was only really available on 78 rpm vinyl records you could only get a few minutes of music on each side of the disc, so when it came to issuing Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite a series of records was required and these were stored in sleeves which could be turned like the pages of a photograph album. The term had been used before, but ultimately this is probably why it caught on.

Well, I've done a couple of blogs on my top ten favourite albums before, but listeners to BBC Radio 4 will of course know that guests on Desert Island Discs are asked to choose individual songs rather than albums, which in many ways is a tougher challenge. On a camping trip with two friends of mine we decided to each treat the others to our personal top five songs courtesy of an iPod docking station which is now as essential as food and beer on such trips. It is probably not so surprising that the top two of my similar aged friend were identical to mine. It was either reaffirmation or proof of a lack of imagination for both of us. Either way, I make no apologies for the rock leanings of my choices. Whilst I appreciate many kinds of music, I guess certain criteria like a rhapsodic nature and a searing guitar solo will generally nail it for me.

10) Kings of Leon – Slow Night So Long (2004) This was the first Kings of Leon song I ever heard, a little behind the times in 2007, while sitting on a railway station with a personal CD player. Having pretty much given up on modern music I wasn't expecting much, but by the time I got to the full on 'whatever it is' at the end of the first verse with its stubbornly unusual drum rhythm I knew this band were something different. The track contains a hidden tune at the end which shows the Kings in a much more laid back frame of mind. All these years later the band are a regular soundtrack to the aforementioned camping trips and I can even understand Caleb Followill's vocals.

9) Oasis – Masterplan (1995) Originally just a B side to the Wonderwall single, I would declare this to be a far superior song that gets only a fraction of the airplay. Noel Gallagher handles the vocal of this ballad which begins in a minor key expressing confusion and alternates with a major key chorus stating 'All we know is that we don't know.' The backwards guitar solo is no doubt a nod to their Liverpudlian heroes, as is the reference to Ringo Starr's 'Octopus's Garden' recited in a slightly silly voice at the end.

8) Dire Straits – Private Investigations (1982) I first heard this brooding classic on the Radio 1 top 40 chart run-down when I was seven years old. Mark Knopfler's lyrics and vocal delivery are slightly menacing sounding with some succulent Spanish style guitar runs. Once the words 'private investigations' are uttered half way through, the mysterious ambience is unleashed for several more tense minutes.

7) The Beatles – While my Guitar Gently Weeps (1968) George Harrison's finest song in my opinion, although I cannot claim to having heard all of his solo work. This White Album track includes Eric Clapton as a guest for the weeping guitar solo to augment George's lyrics expressing the frustration that any thinking person will have about humanity's behaviour. This seems to be a message that is more urgent than ever today, yet I have a sneaking suspicion that George was channelling his frustration about his bandmates at this time as much as anything.

6) Queen – The Show Must Go On (1991) It is surprising that the lyrics were as much Brian May's creation as Freddie Mercury's at a time when he was literally staring death in the face. Here Freddie gives the 'life is all a show' theme all he can muster, perhaps knowing that it is virtually his final chance, while Brian May whips off one of his most evocative solos. It doesn't get much more dramatic.

5) Lynyrd Skynyrd – Free Bird (1973) The guitar hero's favourite. This nine-minute track begins as a ballad with some gentle slide guitar with lyrics about a wish to keep moving on. Upon reaching the conclusion of being unable to change, the duelling guitar solos illustrate the metaphor of the bird breaking free. The whole band then go full tilt for almost six minutes of frenetic soloing. Each time you think it can't get any more intense the string-bends move up the fretboard a little further.

4) The Beatles – A Day in the Life (1967) I remember listening to this as a teenager on a Walkman in my grandparents' bedroom and thinking 'This is scary sounding. I'm never taking drugs!' This, the closing track to Sgt Pepper sees John Lennon pitying those whose lives he views as dull and unenlightened before an orchestral riot leads to McCartney's jaunty bridge, a little like the hurricane taking Dorothy to the Land of Oz. Lennon's lugubriousness has the final say before the orchestral chaos leads to one of the longest notes in rock music, hammered out on five pianos simultaneously if I remember rightly. Even the Beatles couldn't really top this for ingenuity.

3) Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody (1975) A superbly crafted classic that never grows stale. The first time I heard this was on the bus going to school. I thought 'What a depressing song!' How things change. Bo Rhap opens with feelings of regret gradually building into a whirlpool of despair with Brian May's solo leading into the operatic middle section which perhaps represents madness taking over or even fear of hell. Then the rocking finale breaks out as if to say that the music is even bigger than all of that. Yet, Freddie Mercury's melancholic vocal has the final word, before the gong at the end seals his character's fate.

2) Pink Floyd – Comfortably Numb (1979) A rare writing collaboration between David Gilmour and Roger Waters. The verse and chorus are a vocal duel between Waters trying to coax the central character out of his apathy and Gilmour declaring that all is fine in his fantasy world. The first guitar solo sets the tone before Dave Gilmour lets rip properly for the dramatic conclusion. Nick Mason's cymbals hammer out the devastation just for good measure at the end. The track fades just a bit too early in my opinion, but maybe it's best to leave us wanting more.

1) Led Zeppelin – Stairway to Heaven (1971) So good that I even walked down the aisle to the opening strains of this song. This begins in a quiet folky style and gradually picks up the pace and volume. John Bonham picks up his drumsticks about half way through and eventually Jimmy Page's guitar solo takes it into another dimension. Then, just when you think there's no way they are going to top that, Robert Plant gives it the full power vocal treatment as a crescendo. The lyrics are ambiguous enough that you can make it about anything you want. For me it seems to be about making choices in life, so it seemed perfectly fitting as a wedding song.

And here are a few tracks that nearly made the top ten:

The Animals - House of the Rising Sun (1964) An impassioned lament for a wasted life. A much older song recorded by Woody Guthrie among others, which appeared with this tune on Bob Dylan's debut album before the Animals took it to number one.

Procol Harum – A Whiter Shade of Pale (1967) A gibberish classic (which the Beatles might have even topped with I Am The Walrus), and the instrumental B side, Repent Walpurgis, is just as good.

Gerry Rafferty – Baker Street (1978) Irascibly, I include this one for the impassioned guitar solo which grabs you every time, rather than the much loved saxophone part.

Rolling Stones – Gimme Shelter (1969) This moody sounding track opens the Let it Bleed album and only narrowly pips You Can't Always Get What You Want for me, which is the track that closes it.

The Kinks - Waterloo Sunset (1967) Ray Davies' wistful song is evocative of gazing out over the Thames. This was one of the first songs I took proper notice of when aged about five, playing taped 'hand me down' records with a friend who lived across the road from me.

If you want a second Pink Floyd choice I'd go for The Great Gig in the Sky. If you want a second Led Zeppelin choice I'd go for Since I've Been Loving You. For Oasis try Champagne Supernova. For Kings of Leon maybe Arizona. For the Beatles just buy all their albums and listen to the whole lot! The photograph is of course where it all began in Liverpool's legendary Cavern Club.

And finally, just for sheer musicality a couple of proggy ones: Try Mockingbird by Barclay James Harvest for two of the most surprising orchestral chords in a rock song (after a superb build up) and then try 'Starless' from King Crimson's 'Red' album. If you don't appreciate this one during the middle building up section then we're definitely singing from different hymn sheets!

STOP PRESS: The musical musings and humour continue in '2021: A Musical Odyssey' - now available in digital and paperback formats.