Dave Gorman

Previews

2009-07-12T12:38:00.002+01:00

Buttercups, originally uploaded by Dave Gorman.

The upcoming tour offers two quite distinct challenges. There's the bike ride - which is far and away the most physical thing I've ever done and then there are the the gigs: every night. I've done gigs before, obviously, but it's a long time since I've done straight stand-up and while doing a gig every night is one thing, doing them while dealing with the physical effects of cycling each day is another.

I find my concern oscillates from one to the other. There's no point doing the thing if the show isn't up to snuff and there's no point having a great show if the physical effort involved in getting there breaks me.

Luckily both concerns seem to be being well looked after. Having completed the 120 mile ride to Brighton and back I reckon my training has paid off. I've lost a chunk of weight and seem to have picked up some stamina along the way. So without stopping training completely I feel free to focus on the show.

I've done two previews recently. One in Leamington on the 6th and the other in Cheltenham on the 10th. (I wonder if something I said was misheard by my agent and he thinks I insisted on Spa towns?)

Anyway... when the show tours properly it will be something like 90mins+ in most venues but for these previews the intention has just been to see if I can put together a decent hour.

They both had nice full rooms and they both went well - very encouraging. I had to glance at notes only four or five times and I forgot a chunk in Leamington and another smaller bit in Cheltenham but they both ran to an hour and ten and left me some material to spare.

One of the things that fascinates me with stand-up is that it's not just how a particular piece of material is written or performed it's how it's placed in the greater scheme of things. A new routine that stormed in Leamington felt lacklustre a few nights later when I was doing a short set in London and then in Cheltenham it suddenly packed a real punch again. Same words. Same ideas being traded. Odd. And really interesting to observe and learn from. (Hmm... maybe it is the Spa town thing?)

In August I'll be doing fuller previews - there are three nights in Porthcawl and a further three in Andover (see the main site for details) - where I'll be adding more elements and reshuffling the jigsaw to try and find the best blend. I'm looking forward to them. Especially now it feels like the show has strong foundations.

I didn't cycle to the previews. I thought about it for the Cheltenham gig. I reckon it was just about in range. But the point of these gigs is to sort out the content and I had stuff to do the next day that made a long ride home a bit more problematic. So I hired a car for each of them.

It's ages since I've driven a car. It's horrible isn't it? Especially in London traffic. On the way to Leamington there had been an accident on the M40. It was on the other carriageway but rubbernecking meant that those of us heading North were crawling too. That combined with the normal slow route across London meant that it took me two and a half hours to travel the first 60 miles.

The drive to Cheltenham was worse. A road in East London had been blocked by the police which gridlocked a whole load of roads. By the time I'd weedled my way around it all - effectively getting me one mile into my journey - an hour had already gone. It took another hour to actually get across London and then I got snarled up in the Friday rush hour around Oxford too. All in all, the 90 mile journey took just over four hours.

So not only did the gigs give me confidence in the show's content, they also left me feeling very glad that I'm going to be cycling.

118 800

2009-07-10T11:35:00.003+01:00

Phonecall, originally uploaded by Dave Gorman.

In September last year I received a text message from a stranger that said, "Oh my God! I can't believe this is Dave Gorman's phone number!" (Only with poor spelling and grammar) I ignored it. It was possible that it was a friend with a new number trying to wind me up... and if it wasn't and some genuine stranger had actually happened upon my number, I guessed they'd probably go away if ignored. I didn't blog about it at the time because when someone's trying to get a reaction out of you, it's really best not to give them one.

But they didn't go away. They called me at 8, 9, midnight and 3am. I ignored all the calls. But being an idiot they didn't think to hide their number, so on an off chance I googled it. Unusually, it turned up. I found the name of the person responsible. he was 19. He was at Surrey University. He played in a horribly disappointing rock band, used to play in a jazz orchestra and had a depressingly illiterate myspace page.

The next day there was silence. But then the next day there were more nuisance calls. I screened all calls that came from unknown or hidden numbers. There were many. Mostly from hidden numbers.

The day after that, work took me to Austria. And on Saturday night, in Austria, I received something like 40 or 50 nuisance calls. I didn't answer them. I stopped looking at my phone. I wasn't going to spend an hour wading through my messages on an extortionate T-Mobile roaming rate just to hear a variety of prank calls from a variety of students. I knew there might be some calls from friends in amongst them but I figured they could wait til I got back home.

Not one of the prank calls was mean or abusive. There was no name calling or anything like that. It was more:
"Hi Dave, it's Gordon here from BBC3, we've got a really exciting project lined up for you, can you give me a call on the following number asap..." at which point they'd give me their mates number in the hope that I'd call that number and hilarity would ensue. That sort of thing.

(It is fascinating to discover that that's how they imagine things work. Yes, TV executives (whose voices haven't broken yet - even for BBC3 this is far fetched) are always calling me up from rowdy pubs at 10 o'clock at night and offering me great opportunities... and I'm so desperate to suckle at television's teat that I'm obviously going to call them immediately to pursue it.)

But while they weren't abusive - it felt more like I was the prop in a gag they were playing on their mate and they'd have been just as likely to do it to WH Smiths, say, as me - en masse it was becoming a huge inconvenience. But it became more than that when I went through my messages back in London. There was one message from a friend. It was important. Not in a work way, but in a personal way. It was something I shouldn't have left for a day. I really should have responded. Someone, somewhere needed to hear from me and as a friend, I should have been there for them. The details aren't important... what's important is that some students having a laugh had managed to make life quite a lot worse than it should have been. It was no longer just an inconvenience...

Oh... and on my first day back in England I received around 150 calls from unknown numbers. It was still escalating.

So I decided to do something about it. So I hid my number and called the semi-literate, Surrey University student. He seemed very surprised to hear from me. He was 19 years of age but sounded like a 12 year old who thought he was in trouble. His voice was shaking. I could almost hear his heart beating. I honestly thought he was going to cry.

I asked him how he'd got my number. He sounded flustered and pretended he couldn't really remember. I told him that he could. So he did and he told me. He'd got it from a friend. Who'd also got it from a friend... who had been in Edinburgh during the festival where he'd found a mislaid mobile phone. Being a decent sort he tried to find out who the phone belonged to by looking through the numbers it contained. Which is where he found my number. Instead of thinking, "oh look, I've heard of him", shrugging his shoulders and carrying on, he'd thought, "oh look, I've heard of him... I'm going to write that down."

But then the phone had rung and he discovered the phone's owner on the other end and he'd made arrangements to give them their phone back.

So, I asked my nearly-blubbing student for his friend's number. He said he didn't know it. I told him I knew he was lying and he nearly started hyperventilating under the pressure. I suspected he was telling the truth. But one of the things I'm good at is finding information. I had a name. And a place to start, so I soon found the next link in the chain.

He also sounded like a scared animal when confronted. I asked him how he'd got the number. He corroborated the story. I asked him for the name of the friend who'd found the number.
"Ummmm"
"Don't pretend you don't know."
"Okay. It was ????? ??????"
"Right. And do you have his number?"
"Ummm"
"You do."
"I don't think I can access it while I'm on the phone."
"Yes you can."
"I don't think I ought to just give someone's phone number out..."
No irony. He meant it.
"I agree. And I think I'd like to tell him that too..."
"Oh... right. Yeah... it's..."

So it took me three phone calls to get through to the man who'd written my number down and started it all. He too seemed shocked and scared to be hearing from me. In fact I'm pretty sure he did start crying during the call.

But these three phone calls identified only a small handful of people who'd gotten hold of my number and the calls were coming in from different numbers every day and there was no point me trying to pursue each and every one of them. Besides, scaring 18 year old boys and making them cry wasn't making me happy.

What had happened is that the first person had found my number, gone back to his home town and given my number to four or five others. They were all about to go off to different universities. So they all did. And in the craven social atmosphere of Freshers Week they'd all done a bit of showing off... which had involved giving my number to new people who'd all done the same... and some of them had done the same and so on. First year students drinking please-like-me pints do that sort of thing.

Making nuisance phone calls is a crime. The calls kept on coming and the police did get involved warning some of the people who were making them. But as the number was being passed on to new people every day that wasn't doing anything to contain it. So, with regret I was forced into changing my number. I'd had that number for as long as I could remember. I knew that number inside out and backwards. I've had my new number for ten months now. I still don't know it. I hate that I was forced into changing my number.

Anyway... that was probably at the back of my mind when I first heard about this new 118 800 service - a directory enquiries for mobile phone numbers. The idea that anyone could dial in, try their luck and get my new number was alarming to me. There have been a number of scare stories in the media about it... like this from the BBC and this from The Register.

I find the whole idea that you can opt out offends my sensibilities. It seems to me that it's the kind of thing you should have to opt in for.

According to that Register story, Connectivity confirmed it had planned legal action to get access to operator data saying, "Exactly as all the landline directory services were entitled to request telephone number data from BT, 118800 is also legally entitled to request data from telecommunications companies."

The thing is... if I remember rightly, when I moved house and got a new landline number I think I was given the option there and then on making it ex-directory. When I was given my new mobile number I wasn't. So the comparison doesn't stack up. BT might be obliged to hand over those details to a ladline directory service... but they do so knowing that their customers have consented to being in a directory. As a mobile directory didn't exist when we were given our numbers nobody stopped to ask.

As I type this the 118800 website is currently not working. Presumably because of all the people using it to try and make their number ex-directory.

In fairness to them, I ought to point out that they don't actually give your number out to anyone. What they told me is that they call you, explain who's asking for you and then offer to patch the call through. Which is still too much intrusion for me.
Getting a call from 118800 saying "Hello... we have someone called Gordon from BBC3 on the line, do you want me to patch it through?" isn't materially different to getting a message from a student saying the same thing after all.

Because the website wasn't functioning properly yesterday I called the number and asked to be made ex-directory. The person I spoke to was very defensive about the whole thing and very keen to tell me why I shouldn't believe things I might have read in an e-mail. Which seemed odd because I didn't know anything about any e-mail.

He went to great lengths to explain that they had bought their numbers from legitimate sources and that if I'd never given my number to any company I had nothing to worry about.

But I have experiences to prove that's nonsense also. I've had compensation from two companies who have sent me spam text messages before now. Both were mainstream companies. Both had bought lists of numbers from reputable sources. On both occasions the reputable sources had got my number illegally. On both occasions I put more man hours into it than is reasonable in order to prove my case and get compensation.

I'm delighted to see the 118800 website is down. I hope it stays that way. If you haven't already, do call them and ask to be ex-directory. Let's keep them so busy removing numbers that they don't have time to actually call anyone and offer to patch them through.

Breaking The Deadlock

2009-06-29T16:16:00.006+01:00

The excellent sports writer, Simon Barnes, recently wrote a piece in which he assessed the modern innovations in our major sports and gave his opinion on their effectiveness.

He looks at limited overs cricket - 65 over games started in the 60s, while Twenty20 was born in 2003 - the tie break in Tennis (born 1970), the introduction of petrol breaks in F1 (1994), the many intricate rule changes made in rugby over the years and in football, the penalty shoot-out (also 1970).

I'm not informed enough about cricket to have an opinion and Formula One leaves me mystified at the best of times - whatever they do to it I can't get past the fact that the man with the best car seems to have something of an advantage. Besides, while I know the drivers are doing something remarkable I don't feel able to perceive their skill as a spectator. I mean, I know how fast they're going but on a TV screen it simply doesn't look that fast. The rules of rugby have changed so much since I was being kicked all over the school playing field that I've given up trying to understand it properly but can still sit and enjoy an international because good rugby is still mightily impressive to watch.

The most interesting assessments to me were those made on tennis and football, not least because they're both rule changes brought in to achieve the same goal: to break a deadlocked game. Here he concludes that the tie-break has been an unqualified success but that the penalty shoot-out has had a negative impact on football. And I think he's right.

While a penalty shoot-out is undeniably exciting it's not football. A tie break is undoubtedly tennis. The presence of a tie-break doesn't encourage players to play for a draw. A penalty shoot out does, if not from the start, then at some point.

Surely there ought to be some other resolution to a drawn football game that's better than the toss of a coin, fairer than a penalty shoot out and that still involves playing football... all of it, rather than just one particular part of it.

Here's my suggestion. I'm probably not the first person to come up with this. I won't be at all surprised if I find dozens of people telling me where hundreds of others have discussed it in the past. If that's the case, my apologies for not having my finger on the pulse. Here goes:

Currently they play a period of extra time and then go to a penalty shoot out. I'd suggest that when a game is drawn at 90 minutes they should play ten minutes of extra time - but that each team should withdraw two players. If it's still drawn after that, they should withdraw two more players each and play another ten minutes. And so on. Ten minutes of 9-a-side, ten minutes of 7-a-side, ten minutes of 5-a-side and if needed, ten minutes of 3-a-side. Rugby Sevens is a more free-scoring game than its grown-up counterpart because there's more room for players with pace to exploit and I would have thought the same would be true for football.

It would reward fitness, make it less of a mindgame and more of a game, maintain the fact that it's played by teams and not individuals and involve a manager making tactical decisions based on his players strengths and weaknesses.

Of course, it doesn't address what happens if, after 40 minutes of extra time and with only 3 players left for each team it's still a draw. So, um, well, then you, er, um... have a penalty shoot out.

Putting Two And Two Together

2009-06-25T14:48:00.003+01:00

In a behind-the-scenes stairwell at the BBC I used to see these paint marks on a window ledge and wonder what they were from...

Then one day, in a BBC corridor, I passed this picture in a frame:

It all makes sense now. Obviously.

Thanks To Human Sat Navs

2009-06-24T10:12:00.004+01:00

So this is my Boardman bike, rigged pretty much as I think it's going to be when I tour. I've changed the saddle, got some luggage from Carradice (ace stuff), changed the pedals and got comfortable clipping in. I'm very happy with it.

A couple of other Boardman bike riders spoke to me when I was in Brighton and they were all singing the praises of theirs too. Lovely stuff.

But the main reason I'm writing this is to say a big thanks to everyone who's responded offering their services as a Human Sat Nav.

I've been really surprised by the response. I've tried to send an e-mail to everyone who's written although I haven't yet been able to go through them all in detail and organise who will be my guide on any given day. There are some days where I've got as many as twenty people offering and plenty of others where there's only the one. Where there are several I'll probably go for a lucky dip of sorts. Or maybe it's an unlucky dip. It's not as though guiding my lumbering body through a 50 mile ride is a particular treat.

I won't know for sure until I go through them all properly and filed them in some kind of order but I'm pretty sure I've got almost every ride covered. I reckon there's only two or three of the routes that people haven't volunteered for and they tend to be in the least populated parts of the ride... where there's likely to be only one road carrying me from A to B in any case.

Anyway... I'm going to have to pull the shutters down and ignore any new offers until I've sorted out the current inbox. I'm hugely grateful to everyone who's written and only sorry that I'm not more organised. Ta.

From London to Brighton to... London.

2009-06-22T10:09:00.007+01:00

So... yesterday was the annual British Heart Foundation London to Brighton bike ride. I took part in the event four years ago. That was the first time I'd taken on any kind of distance. I loved it. When someone asked me to join their team of cyclists in the event this year I thought I really ought to do it again... with my tour looming I didn't really have any excuse not to and I figured it would be a good training ride.

At the time I hadn't done any serious training rides and wasn't used to cycling out of London on the open roads. I know a lot of people think that cycling in London is scary but personally I feel pretty safe in that environment. So long a syou look ahead and assume people are going to open their car doors in front of you and so on it can work to your advantage. The average car is travelling at less than 10mph and while they might not like the fact that cyclists are there, there are so many of us out on two wheels that drivers are kind of expecting your presence. It's out of town that scares me more. It's in country lanes that boy racers take bends at 50mph and with no expectation that there might be someone on two wheels ahead of them.

So while I knew that London to Brighton would be a good work out I was also aware that it would be a slightly artificial situation because there are marshalls all along the route and plenty of sections where the roads are closed or the regular traffic is at least separated. So I decided that I would cycle home too. I figured I had to get used to going from town to town without the assistance of several hundred volunteers in high-vis jackets. (Incidentally: I don't think the people who marshall the route get enough of a thankyou from the cyclists. It's a huge event that the BHF organise incredibly well and the volunteers who line the route are amazingly good humoured and supportive. Thanks.)

By the time the ride came round I'd already done a few town-to-town, city-to-city rides and got used to it but training's training and I knew another one couldn't hurt. Or rather it could. But in a helpful way.

My plan was very much to play it by ear. If I felt tired after the ride I'd stay in Brighton and then tackle the return journey the next day. If I felt up for it I'd do it all in one day or, and this seemed to me to be the most likely, I'd do 30 miles of the return journey on the day and then complete the trip on the Monday. As it was I ended up doing it all in one day... I was bushed by the end of it. But pretty damn pleased with the achievement too.

I'm also really pleased with my new Boardman bike. I've changed the saddle and the pedals and got some excellent luggage from Carradice and I reckon the way it was configured yesterday was pretty close to the way it will be on tour. It felt very right. I loved it.

I plugged some of the toys in as well. I set the new bike-cam running as I left Clapham. I know that by the time I had got to Brighton it had stopped recording. Whether it had run out of juice or memory or both I don't know. It doesn't have a preview screen so until I upload stuff I won't know how long it lasted. It' a shame not have caught the whole ride but at the same time, I need things to work in a way that means I can just hit a button and forget about them. If I start obsessing with how-to-record-the-journey or stopping every hour to change a memory card it will change the actual first-person-experience of the journey into something else. Something worse to do... but nicer for other people to look at. Which isn't what it's about, really.

I also had my Garmin Edge 705 on the bike, timing myself and recording the route - and for the return journey, choosing the route. Thanks to the magic of MapMyRide.com, I can show you where I went... here's the London to Brighton ride:
&amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/ride/united-kingdom/-britain/749124566306059423"&amp;gt;London to Brighton 09&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br/&amp;gt;&amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/find-ride/united-kingdom/-britain"&amp;gt;Find more Bike Rides in Britain, United Kingdom&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;

... and here's the journey back:
&amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/ride/united-kingdom/-britain/728124566289949210"&amp;gt;Brighton Return&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br/&amp;gt;&amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/find-ride/united-kingdom/-britain"&amp;gt;Find more Bike Rides in Britain, United Kingdom&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;

You can open them full screen and zoom in to see the minute detail of where I went if you like. (I turned it off before I got to my front door - I'm not mad.)

The first third of the ride to Brighton is always very congested. There are loads of bottlenecks in small lanes where you're forced to stand and wait a while or walk but slowly as the ride goes on it thins out a bit and you can get into it properly. Ditchling Beacon is the stiffest test... a steep and long, long hill about 6 miles from the end. The good thing about it is that when you get to the top you've pretty much finished the ride. It's all pretty easy after that.

Four years ago Ditchling Beacon was a pretty disorganised mess. Loads of people end up walking up the hill and they can block the path of those who are still cycling. My main memory is of the really hardcore cyclists screaming at people to walk on the left. I don't think I would have been able to pedal all the way up Ditchling Beacon last time but I didn't get the chance to find out as I ended up losing momentum behind a group of four walkers who covered the whole width of the road. Once off the bike there was no choice but to walk myself.

This time round it seemed far more organised. I don't know if it was just because I'd started earlier or if people have spread the word but the walkers all cleared out of the way and left a channel to the right for the cyclists. I cycled all the way up.

I've always been quietly dismissive of those people who claim to have an exercise-high... but yesterday as I topped the beacon and continued into Brighton I felt properly euphoric. I must have been because on the flat section across the top of Ditchling I got up to 31mph. On the flat I can normally get a little over 20mph if I make an effort... so it must have been down to some kind of adrenaline rush. Better still, on the long descent, even with my fingers stabbing at the brakes I got up over 42mph. I spoke to several people afterwards who'd got over 50mph. It's an exciting part of the ride.

As I came down the hill I looked at the clock and realised it was possible to get in to the finishing line in under 4hrs. I got snarled up with traffic lights coming in to the city centre and then with a large group of riders on the home straight but I made it. Just. 3 hours, 59 minutes and 50 seconds.

I made a bit of a cock up then. I should have gone to have something to eat but instead I hung around waiting for my team to arrive. I knew they were going to be doing the ride at a more leisurely pace and would be stopping en route for refreshments but I stupidly didn't realise that this was my best chance to eat and recuperate. When they did turn up - every one of them equally delighted to have cycled up Ditchling - they then went off for a celebration drink which I didn't do because booze seemed like a bad idea before taking on another long ride. So not only did I start my return journey quite late in the day, I knew I'd be stopping on the ride to get some food that I could have dealt with while I was waiting.

It was hard. Much harder than the ride to Brighton and that's not just because of tiredness. The sat-nav seemed to take me on an odd and circuitous route and there were more uphill sections. Nothing as steep as Ditchling but a damn site more of them. I was getting frustrated with the road surfaces too. A bad road slows you down so much and it left me unsure as to whether it was down to the conditions or me. But then about 40 miles in I suddenly hit a nice new road and found I still had plenty of juice in me and got up over 25mph with ease. Which is kind of when I decided to complete the job and get all the way home.

I took two refreshment breaks on the way back - totalling an hour - and all in the return journey took five and a half hours. Even if I just take into account the actual cycling time it's half an hour slower and that's without having any of the bottlenecks that plagued the first part of the outward journey so it was definitely harder going.

But I did it. And I'm thrilled. Taking into account the journey from mine to Clapham for the start of the official ride I totalled just over 120 miles of riding yesterday. The longest I've done in a day before being 90ish miles.

When I did my three day training ride a wee while back I was aware that I started out being very bad at making myself take on enough fluid. I lost a stone in the first two days as an unhealthy result. I bought a Camelbak backpack to help me to drink more and it was great. I must have got through 5 or 6 litres of water, possibly more... and the result was that I lost only 2 or 3 lbs in the day. Much better.

I don't think there's been any time in my life before this when I could have done these rides in one day. Without wanting to come off all mid-life crisis about it, it's pretty damned satisfying to be fitter at 38 than I was at 34. Or 24 for that matter. How odd. And lovely. And by criminy do I feel it in my knees today.

Radio Ga Ga

2009-06-20T14:12:00.002+01:00

Thank-You Stranger, originally uploaded by Dave Gorman.

I've not long finished recording the last of my three shows for Absolute Radio. It's been a while since I did any of that kind of radio - y'know, talking and playing records - and I'd forgotten just how enjoyable I find it. It's been a blast.

It's a really lovely, close team who make the show and Absolute have been really supportive too. When we made the first show I had no idea that there was going to be a podcast too. It wasn't until after the first show was over and the producer showed us through to another studio to record an intro for the podcast that I realised such a thing existed.

Which makes it doubly sweet that the podcasts have done as well as they have. This last week we were number one on the iTunes chart. That's just silly. I'm not quite sure how that happened. If you tuned in to the shows or downloaded the podcasts; big thanks.

The final show will no doubt be online soon... and even though my supply teacher's stint is over, we recorded another silly chat that I think they'll make available next week. The Absolute Radio website is here.

The Bicycle Never Stops

2009-06-16T22:24:00.005+01:00

I've got a new toy. I'm not sure how toyful it's going to be yet... but I figured that the bike ride I'm taking on this autumn is a bit of a once in a lifetime thing to do and it would be a shame not to take some kind of record away from it.

So I've bought a GoPro Hero Camera - the idea being that you can mount it on the bike, or a helmet and just let it get on with taking video or photos.

My first thought was that still photos might be more useful than video - as much as anything because I'm not sure how long the camera can record for in one go - it's tiny and loves eating batteries - and I don't fancy having to stop too often to attend to it. Having tried it today - automatically taking a still every few seconds - I'm not convinced by it... but I will continue to play.

I've put them together though. Be warned. The result is very jerky - not especially easy on the eye - but it's an experiment so what the hey.

I'll give it another go with a different set up as soon as I can. Maybe on Sunday when I'm doing the London to Brighton ride for the British Heart Foundation. If you'd like to sponsor me - and I and the BHF would really appreciate it - my JustGiving page is here.

Incidentally, the music in the video - Never Stops Never Rests Never Sleeps is used with permission from the lovely Misty's Big Adventure. They're ace.

St Andrew By The Wardrobe

2009-06-12T18:10:00.003+01:00

If Gok Wan goes to church, I hope it's here...

Absolutely

2009-06-06T14:42:00.001+01:00

Aerials, originally uploaded by Dave Gorman.

Up early this morning - a 5.45 start - in order to be at Absolute Radio in time to cover for Frank Skinner (8am-10am) while he's away.

Apart from the early start it was thoroughly enjoyable. There's a very nice team working on the show... but then I knew that because I was a guest on Frank's first show a few months ago. We had loads of input from listeners which really helped to make it zip along. If you sent an e-mail or a text - thanks. If we didn't read yours out - sorry.

I'm there for the next two Saturdays. Hope it stays this much fun.

The best thing about doing some "work" so early is that it allows you to waste the rest of the day without guilt. Lovely.

Fancy A Day As A Human Sat Nav Anyone?

2009-06-03T20:44:00.004+01:00

UPDATE: **I know there are a few places linking to this post and so people are still coming to it anew... so it seemed worth writing this little update to say that I reckon I've got pretty much all of the days covered now. Thanks to everyone who's offered their services, it's really appreciated.**

When I first mentioned that I was going to do this upcoming tour by bicycle I was surprised by the number of people who got in touch asking if they could accompany me on this day or that.

I was very wary about saying yes for various reasons... for one I wanted to avoid a feeling of responsibility. I'd get an e-mail from a stranger asking if they could accompany me and I obviously wouldn't know anything about them at all. What if they'd never cycled on the road before? What if their bike was unsafe and falling to pieces? I'd feel horribly responsible for their safety all of a sudden... and I definitely didn't want that.

But more importantly... I had no way of knowing how I'd feel about the ride when it was months away. People I didn't know were basically getting in touch in April to ask me if they could spend a day with me in September and I had no way of knowing what mood I'd be in by then. Maybe I'd be craving company? But then again, maybe I'd be craving solitude? It seemed impossible to predict when the whole thing was months away.

Of course, that was before I'd done any meaningful training...

But then, a short while ago, I did a training ride - 90 miles a day for three days - and I discovered quite a bit about myself, my bike and my attitude. I wrote about it at the time and one of the things that was most apparent was how different I felt when I was cycling on familiar turf. I cycled from Bethnal Green to Witney, from Witney to Stafford, from Stafford to Northampton and then I got the train to Euston before pedalling home.

For most of the travelling I was relying on my sat nav... but when I got off the train at Euston my instincts and local knowledge kicked in and I realised I'd been missing that out on the open road.

Which is why I've decided it would be useful to tap into other people's local knowledge. I don't want to invite strangers to accompany me - making me feel like a tour guide and giving me a responsibility that doesn't sit easily with me - I want to see if there's anyone out there that feels like being my guide for a day instead.

If you're a regular cyclist and you know your way between any two of my tour dates and you fancy being my Human Sat Nav for the day then get in touch. I'm not necessarily looking for the shortest or quickest routes - it's not a race after all - but the best route with the most to see and do. (One that avoids killer hills would be good too.)

There's obviously no real flexibility about the dates and destinations... the gigs are booked after all. It starts on August 30th when I'll be cycling from Lizard Point to Grampound near Truro.

From there it's as follows:
Aug 31: Grampound -> Liskeard
Sept 1: Liskeard -> Exeter
Sept 2: Exeter -> Taunton
Sept 3: Taunton ->Bristol
Sept 4: Bristol -> Swindon
Sept 5: Swindon ->Wycombe
Sept 6: Wycombe -> Cambridge
Sept 7: Cambridge -> Ipswich
Sept 8: Ipswich ->Lowestoft Ness
Sept 9: Lowestoft -> Kings Lynn
Sept 10: Kings Lynn -> Peterborough
Sept 11: Peterborough -> Leicester
Sept 12: Leicester -> Stoke on Trent
Sept 13: Stoke on Trent -> Salford/Manchester
Sept 14: Salford -> Preston
Sept 15: Preston ->Lancaster
Sept 16: Lancaster ->Kendal
Sept 17: Kendal ->Threlkeld (nr Keswick)
Sept 18: Threlkeld -> Carlisle
Sept 19: Carlisle -> Dumfries
Sept 20: Dumfries -> Cumnock
Sept 21: Cumnock -> Glasgow
Sept 22: Glasgow -> Dumbarton
Sept 23: Dumbarton -> Ardlui
Sept 24: Ardlui -> Fort William
Sept 25: Fort William -> Ardnamurchan
Sept 26: Ardnamurchan -> Glenfinnan
Sept 27: Glenfinnan -> Fort Augustus
Sept 28: Fort Augustus -> Inverness
Sept 29: Inverness -> Dornoch
Sept 30: Dornoch -> Lyth
And then finally, on October 1st I'll complete the journey by reaching Dunnet Head.

If you fancy being my Human Sat Nav for the day - and you're an adult of sound mind - drop me a line via my website.
It's going to take some organising and I might well get three offers for day 6 and none for day 7 (or none at all) so please put in a bit of information about how much you cycle and how you've tackled the journey in question before. And put in as many contact details as you can... that'll help me to get myself organised and to be in touch to work out quite how this'll hang together.

Cat Laughs

2009-06-02T17:35:00.001+01:00

Kilkenny At Night, originally uploaded by Dave Gorman.

Thoroughly enjoyed my time in Kilkenny. Four nice gigs. In one I could feel the rust in my joints but I don't think the audience were aware of or worried by it, in two others it felt like business as usual and in one it felt like business-better-than-usual. Good odds. I can't complain.

It's an incredibly beautiful town but my life it's got a Jekyll and Hyde quality to it as well. The weather was amazing so by day the place was bathed in glorious sunlight only heightening its picture postcard appeal. But I went for a midnight walk on Saturday and the all day drinking had taken its toll.

You could see who was a visitor from their more casual attire. The locals were all dressed to the nines - party frocks and shiny shirts were the uniforms of choice. And sunburn. Everyone looked like they were attending the wedding reception of a rich cousin they didn't like all that much.

On that walk I passed three girls in tears with broken heels, three girls being helped out of the gutter by angry men, four men being helped out of the gutter by angry girls, one couple drunkenly helping each other out of the gutter, two people throwing up, two sets of lads squaring up like rutting stags preparing for a you-want-some scrap that probably never transpired and one fella clutching a blood stained hanky to his face because, I assume, he'd found someone who actually did want some.

Somehow it wasn't quite so picture postcard.

That doesn't sound like much of a recommendation. Which is a shame because I really do recommend it. I certainly wouldn't let a half hour stroll through a spot of drunken carnage colour my view of the place... indeed I only mention it because it was in such stark contrast to my overall impression of the place... which was overwhelmingly friendly.

It's a beautiful place. And it's a really lovely festival. Th fact that everyone's doing short sets on mixed bills takes a lot of the egos out of it and the shows - or certainly all of the shows that I saw - are really well set up. Lovely.

Some Keys Re-enacting An Alien Autopsy

2009-05-26T18:16:00.001+01:00

Some Keys Re-enacting An Alien Autopsy, originally uploaded by Dave Gorman.

Hay on Why Did It Have To Be So Brief?

2009-05-25T14:07:00.002+01:00

Pottery/Poetry, originally uploaded by Dave Gorman.

To Hay on Wye yesterday for what felt like the longest of days.

Last year (when I took this photo) I was there for a week. It rained. A year's worth of rain. More Hay in Wye than on it. Roads were closed and the days became long and difficult to fill. My trip had been arranged at such short notice it meant many of the events I wanted to see were already sold out. There was fun last year for sure but it was two day's worth spread out over a long, wet week.

Yesterday I went to the other extreme. It was sunny. Gloriously so. And I was there for only a few hours. Everything I took part in was fun but because of that I'd rather over-committed myself and had a day with little or no respite.

If I was more organised it would have been better. But I didn't manage to get any breakfast before being picked up at 8.30am so by the time I arrived at the festival site - at about 12.15 - all I'd had to eat was a chocolate bar picked up at a petrol stop en route.

I walked out of the car and made my way through the crowds to the Sky Arts Zone where I was whisked straight into make-up. I snaffled some fruit from the green room before going on set for a Sky Arts interview show with the alarmingly handsome Marcus Zuzak, David Starkey and myself being interviewed by Mariella Frostrup. Marcus and David should do a double act together, partly because they're both relaxed, witty and charming but mainly because they could call it Starkey and Butch.

The moment it was over I was whizzed with great urgency to the Guardian Yurt (and the fact that the Guardian has a yurt there says everything you need to know about festival in general) so that I could meet up with the brilliant John Crace (author of the ace Digested Reads) to record a Guardian podcast... or HayCast as I believe they're calling them.

We recorded it as we strolled down Hay's High Street at a nice genteel pace before jumping in a car and careering back to the festival site where I made the same urgent walk through the same crowds and straight into the same make-up chair to have my face re-caked in time for another Sky Arts show.

This time it was What The Dickens with Sandi Toksvig as chair, Chris Addison and Sue Perkins as team captains and myself and Robin Ince as the guests. A lovely bunch of people - which is just as well because I could feel my energy levels flagging. I snaffled more fruit.

Two make-up sessions, two apples, a banana and a chocolate bar... I was living the life of a supermodel. Only one that had been severely underpaid for getting out of bed that morning.

When the show finished I was relieved to discover I had fifty minutes before I needed to meet someone from the festival to sort out my event - the real reason I was there.

At 5.45pm, by now gibbering quite incoherently I sat down for my first meal of the day. I'm sure if I'd been able to make proper sentences I'd have bored Chris and Robin with my tale of tiredness. As it was they just looked kindly at me and then spoon fed me cake. It was the sugar rush I needed.

I was surprised by how big a venue I was in for the reading. Also by how ghastly a title it carried. The Barclays Wealth Pavilion. So brazen. Almost whorish. A Hay Ho'. Heigh ho. It's almost admirable for a bank to be so honest.

I discovered later that the reading had been moved from another venue. I only found out when a lovely old lady bought a book and told me that she'd had a ticket but missed the event. It turned out she'd gone to the original venue and been let in so hadn't realised I wasn't speaking until the thing had started. "I saw a quite interesting political discussion instead," she said.

I wonder how many of my audience had come for the quite-interesting-political-discussion and been surprised when I walked on.

The reading lasted an hour and then the queue for books was lovely and chatty and lasted another hour. By 9.15 I was back in the car and on my way home.

I left home at 8.20am and walked back through the door in a bit of a haze at 12.30am. I really don't feel like I properly saw Hay at all. I'm not complaining - well, I was when it was 5.30 and I hadn't had a meal yet - but in general I'm really not. It's just strange to be there without feeling like I was actually there. An hour on the lawn with an ice-cream and a book would have made all the difference.

I probably had about two days worth of fun but it was all squeezed into nine hours. The lesson here is that, if possible, I should go to Hay on Wye for two days, not nine hours and not a week. It's a lesson learned.

Thanks Carl Irwin... whoever you are...

2009-05-21T15:03:00.005+01:00

A comment from someone called Mojo on my last post (Chiro-bullies) pointed me in the direction of this ruling from the Advertising Standards Authority who have upheld a complaint against a chiropractic practice for, amongst other things, implying they could treat colic.

It's worth reading. Go on. Then come back.

The bit I find most interesting is this:

We considered that, whilst some of the studies indicated that further research was worth pursuing, in particular in relation to the chiropractic relief of colic, we had not seen robust clinical evidence to support the claim that chiropractic could treat IBS, colic and learning difficulties.

On these points the ad breached CAP Code clauses 3.1 (Substantiation), 7.1 (Truthfulness) and 50.1 (Health and Beauty Products and Therapies).

Now, I'm not a lawyer but surely this casts a really interesting light on the case currently being brought by the Britsh Chiropractic Association against Simon Singh.

I'm trying to keep my thoughts in order here... so I'm going to walk myself through this in baby steps... apologies if you're already familiar with the case and feel I'm just retreading old ground.

I'll start with a rough timeline of events...
1: The British Chiropractic Association produced a leaflet, Happy Families, in which it claimed chiropractic was an appropriate treatment for colic.

2: Simon Singh wrote about this and described the claim (alongside some others) as bogus. (A term he went on to define in the next paragraph.)

3: The BCA sued Simon Singh for libel contending, it seems, that the phrase "happily promoting bogus treatments" meant "knowingly promoting treatments they knew to be bogus". (I don't think that was SS's meaning at all... something I thought was clear from the way in which he defined his terms within the article.)

4: Justice Eady's ruling at the preliminary hearing means that the focus of the case is not whether or not the claims are true, but whether or not they were dishonestly made. (Oh dear.)

5: In the meantime - I'm not sure when - Carl Irwin & Associates (a chiropractic practice based in Edgware) have placed their advert in a magazine mentioning, amongst other things, colic.

6: Someone has complained about the advert and the ASA have upheld the complaint. Carl Irwin & Associates are not allowed to run the ad as it stands again and have been told (amongst other things) not to mention the treatment of colic in future ads.

This much, I believe we know. But I'll continue by offering a few of my thoughts about how this could affect things...
7: Having a complaint against you upheld by the ASA is not good for your business or its reputation.

8: The BCA is a professional body whose role is to look after the best interests of its members. It is not in the interests of its members to have the ASA rule against them.

9: In light of the ASA ruling, it seems to me that when the BCA produced the Happy Families leaflet they were in effect giving their members bad advice - however sincerely meant it was at the time. Surely the BCA should now make best efforts to correct it. I think the only responsible action would be to tell their members not to make such claims because they cannot be substantiated. This is the only responsible thing to do until there is new evidence that can substantiate such claims. To not do so would be to fail to act in the best interests of their members.

10: Which surely means that, even if they believed the claims made in the leaflet at the time, don't they now have to concede that the information was, dare I say it, bogus?

11: Which in turn makes their lawsuit against Simon Singh look, if nothing else, petty. Rather than suing him for - as they see it - calling them liars, they should be acknowledging that he was right - the claims are not substantiated - and offering him thanks for pointing out the falsehood of their well-intentioned but incorrect belief.

12: Had they seen Singh's point at the time, they could have corrected themselves earlier and offered better advice to their members earlier. By failing to do so and filing their libel action they were failing to act in their members' best interests. The longer their leaflet was out there promoting unsubstantiated claims - and even if the leaflet was withdrawn - the longer it remained uncorrected - the longer they were doing their members' a disservice.

I really don't see how they can fulfil their role of serving their members' best interests and not warn them against advertising their services as an appropriate treatment for colic, having previously suggested they could. To not do so would surely be to let their members - and their patients - down. How that can be squared with suing someone who simply tried to point out the fallacy of the claim is beyond me.

Chiro-Bullies

2009-05-19T09:02:00.007+01:00

The Simon Singh meeting last night was strangely enjoyable. I say 'strangely' because while it obviously would have been far better if it hadn't been necessary the event was simultaneously informative, funny, heart-warming and energising. When a large crowd turns out for something like that, if nothing else, it confirms that you're not mad for thinking the way you do.

If you're interested there's a decent summary of the evening on the New Humanist website and the New Scientist piece ("there was a sense last night that we are at the start of something important") is good also. I was, inevitably, far and away the least informed of the speakers. Nick Cohen, Dr. Evan Harris MP. and Simon Singh were all fantastic in different ways. This really isn't about one case - Simon just happens to be the unfortunate soul at the centre of this particular whirlwind - there's a far wider issue at work and for freedom of speech to prevail both here and abroad it's obvious that Britain's libel laws need to be changed.

I'm tempted to write up everything I learned last night but it would turn into a 100,000 word dissertation if I'm not careful and there are bound to be far better sources of information out there for things like this. Suffice to say that when an Icelandic bank can bully a Danish newspaper into silence by using English courts something is clearly wrong with our system. Google the phrase 'libel tourism' if you really want to see how bad it is or read this article from the Times for a snapshot of the frankly embarrassing situation we're in.

Anyway... I don't think I expressed myself as clearly as I'd have liked last night and with the benefit of some sleep I thought it would be worth clarifying what I think about the situation in specific and general terms. (That said Jack of Kent remains the best source of information for this case - go and subscribe.)

Here's a thing. A couple of weeks ago I genuinely didn't know that chiropractic was a form of alternative medicine. I just thought it was another word for - or a distinct branch of - physiotherapy. I really did. I mean, they help your bad back by manipulating your bad back don't they? Don't they? If you've read America Unchained you'll know that my first director, Stef, was forced to leave the film because of a bad back. You'll also know that before her health forced her to leave, we were forced to take some not-really desirable detours so that she could visit a succession of chiropractors. Well at the time, I genuinely believed she was seeing what I would call 'proper-doctors.' I'm embarrassed by this gap in my knowledge.

Now I'm not suggesting that alternative therapy doesn't work at all. If it floats your boat that's great. My personal belief is that half an hour of kindness has a greater placebo effect than 7 minutes with your GP... and oddly, I reckon paying for it, increases the effect even more. But that's only really applicable to illnesses of the basic will-sort-themselves-out-eventually variety.

I think it's hugely concerning that the British Chiropractic Association produced a leaflet suggesting that chiropractic treatments were an appropriate way of dealing with colic or childhood asthma. I mean... if you're treating colic you're talking about treating babies. And if you're talking about manipulating the spine and/or joints of babies I think it's natural to be concerned. It makes me wince just thinking about the manipulation of a fully grown adult's, developed spine... but a baby's? Seriously? (Maybe there's some other chiropractic treatment that doesn't involve that sort of thing, in which case some clarification would be great. As would a new definition of chiropractic.)

Anyway, I only know about this leaflet having been produced (I believe it has since been withdrawn) because of this law suit and the attention it has brought to the case. If they hadn't sued Simon for libel, I wouldn't know anything about this. I'd still be under the more positive impression that they were 'proper-doctors-for-when-you-have-a-bad-back'. More fool them.

Of course there are other ways they could have reacted. Now, I'm not a doctor or a chiropractor or a baby so I don't know whether chiropractic offers a genuine treatment for these childhood complaints. I know what my gut instinct (and basic, layman's knowledge of how the body works) tells me... but putting that aside and entertaining both possibilities... here's how I think a reasonable organisation should behave:

1) If there is evidence for chiropractic being an effective treatment for colic and/or childhood asthma: Put the evidence forward and engage in a debate on the subject. No matter what side of the debate you fall on I can't honestly see an argument against this course of action. If you wholeheartedly believe that chiropractic offers an effective treatment how could you want less investigation of its efficacy? Who would possibly argue for less enquiry into something that involves manipulating babies' bones? More research = More information = Better treatment.

2) If the evidence suggests it isn't an effective treatment for colic and/or childhood asthma: Then surely you have to withdraw the leaflet and apologise. When a supermarket sells something that has the potential to be dangerous - say, a faulty kettle - they don't just stop selling it, they also make best efforts to ensure that anyone who's bought one returns it. This normally involves some pretty big adverts in national newspapers. If I was responsible for advertising a medical treatment that I later realised wasn't proven and could be dangerous I'd feel a huge responsibility to publicise and correct any misinformation that might be out there.

As far as I know, the BCA haven't taken either of these steps. (As I said above, I believe that the leaflet has been withdrawn but I have no idea if that is as a consequence of anything having been written about it or for some other reason.)

What they have done is sue a science writer who wrote an article offering his opinion on such practices. In doing so, they don't just intimidate one man, the message they send is that they do not welcome critical investigation of what they do. Which seems ridiculous to me because a) critical investigation of things is how science and medicine move forward and b) surely anything relating to medical treatment - especially treatment of children - should be open to scrutiny as a matter of public interest.

Who are chiropractors? What do you think they think? I imagine them to largely be of the caring, woolly, liberal type. (All adjectives I'd be happy to carry myself.) I think that's certainly the image they would choose to project. Which, to me, makes the BCA's decision to sue for defamation a mistake. It has changed the way I feel not just about what they do but also who they are.

No matter what you think about chiropractic, whether you dismiss the entirety of it as hogwash, believe it can sort out your bad back or believe it can cure 95% of illnesses in men, women and children alike, I simply can't see an argument for trying to silence its critics. It seems to me that an organisation that would best represent its members by encouraging debate has done them all a huge disservice by instead resorting to libel law; the blunt weapon of the bully.

EDIT: to add that Nick Cohen has since blogged on the subject also:
http://nickcohen.net/2009/05/20/simon-singh-and-the-battle-for-free-speech/

Two Wheels Good

2009-05-13T17:37:00.000+01:00

I said I'd write something about my 270 mile bike ride... and it's taken me til now to find the time. Here goes...

When the tour happens I'll be doing an average of between 40 and 60 miles a day but there's at least one day where the ride is over 80 miles (a genuine oversight where a town got overlooked but shows were booked and we can't bend time to put a new day in) and another of 70+ so I wanted to get some long days in the saddle under my belt to see how I'd feel.

Using google maps on the walking setting I looked up the journey from my house to my Dad's and it came up as nearly 80 miles. Then I looked up the journey from there to my Mum's. It came in at around 90 miles. Then I looked up the journey from there back to mine and it came up as 130 something miles. So I figured I could make that a four day trip. My plan was to get to my Dad's on Day 1, to my Mum's on Day 2 but to make no plans on Day 3, just see how far I could get, then find a B&B and complete the journey on Day 4. Simply put the idea was to find where my limit was by the simple method of, um, pushing myself to the limit.

I spoke to my folks about it and tried to find dates that were convenient for them and for me... and there was basically only one four-day window where it could fit in - from Tuesday May 5 to Friday May 8. I had an early start on the 9th to look forward to, as I had to get to Belfast in time for an afternoon book-reading. I figured that so long as I ensured I left a really small journey for Day 4 that wouldn't be a problem. Besides, I needed to learn about myself, my bike and my equipment.

The first lesson learned came when I packed my bags. I had two panniers and was carrying what I thought was the bare minimum. A toothbrush, enough changes of cycle gear, a spare inner tube, my smallest, lightest camera, a puncture repair kit, a pump, some powdered sports drinks to help hydrate and replace salts etc. and that was pretty much it. It weighed way more than I want to be carrying. Without apology I'm going to go all David Cameron about it when it comes to the tour. I'm cycling, but some of my stuff is going to travel on ahead by car.

Here's the thing; there's going to have to be a car. There's a tour manager. His job is to make sure things run as smoothly as possible at each venue. He's there to help avert disaster. He has to carry equipment with him. He won't be cycling. Having a tour manager cycle would just be a way of doubling the chances of disaster striking. He won't be driving at 10mph alongside me... he'll be going on ahead and meeting me at places. And he can bloody well carry some spare clothes for me.

You might well say that I should carry my own clothes and do the sensible bike touring thing: wear-one-wash-one. Which is what I would do if I was just doing the coast-to-coast-to-coast-to-coast ride that I was originally planning. But now that it's become a tour as well as a bike ride it rather changes things. I don't have a day off. I don't have much spare time in my schedule at all. The time I would have spent washing my smalls in a B&B basin will be the time I'm spending on stage. There's no way I'm going to come off stage, mentally and physically exhausted by the day's twin challenges... then go and do some laundry.

Nope... the tour is the reason I'll have less free time to attend to biking matters and the tour is also the reason there's going to have to be a car in the vicinity. So the car will help me out. It's going to be hard enough as it is.

But, for these few days the fact that I was doing the journey with heavier than normal luggage was no bad thing. It made sense to me in the same way that doing more miles in a day than the tour will require of me made sense. It just added to the well-if-I-can-do-this-then-I-must-be-able-to-do-that sense of experiment. Obviously nothing can really prepare me for the intensity of 30+ days of back to back cycling, but in the absence of 30+ days for training, this kind of thing seemed to be just the ticket.

For what it's worth, here's a rough shot at picturing my journey on Day 1:

I've managed to get my Sat-Nav to talk to my computer but for some reason it won't upload the route from this day so I've filled in some of the blanks myself. Still, it's pretty close.

I'm not sure why the Sat Nav took me so far out west - all the way to Reading - before starting to climb north to Witney. I'd like to think it was doing something very clever and deliberately finding a less hilly route. If so, I dread to think how bad it would have been if it had been more direct. The route I took across The Chilterns was plenty hilly enough for my liking. (Chiltern's Feet Warmers? Thigh Burners more like. (Hello Jazz fans).)

Weirdly I'd used the Sat-Nav to ride to Windsor and back a couple of weeks earlier and it chose a completely different route out of London that time. Even though on both journeys I passed the same roundabout out near Datchett. How it can have two different best-routes from my house to that roundabout is beyond me?

I remain suspicious of the Sat Nav. There is lots to like about it - just having a computer telling you how many miles you've travelled and what speed you're doing is good for motivational purposes if nothing else - but there are also problems with it. But I think I've worked out how to best deal with some of them.

I had the thing set up with the standard settings... and that meant that, under these circumstances, it appeared to freeze from time to time. Every time I strayed even minutely from the prescribed route it would suddenly give me a message to say it was recalculating things. For example, to get from Piccadilly to Knightsbridge you can either go round the roundabout (Hyde Park Corner) or you can take the underpass. I prefer the roundabout for two reasons. a)cars aren't travelling at 60mph as they go round it and b)because you don't go down, you don't have to climb up either. By taking the roundabout I'm probably never more than 20 yards away from the underpass. But even that tiny diversion sends the Sat Nav into a spin and sets off the recalculation.

When it does this, it provides a status bar showing me the progress of the recalculation and then, when it reaches 100%... well, most of the time, nothing happens. I just get a screen with a status bar saying 100%. On two or three occasions I ended up giving up on it and turning the thing off and on again. I wasn't very far into Day 1 when this forced me into an unwanted 15 minute break at Hammersmith while I waited for it to make its mind up on the route to Witney.

I later discovered that it wasn't freezing it was just lying to me when it said the calculation was 100% done. If it's calculating a ten mile route it zips through it in no time at all. But when it's working out a complicated 90-something miler... it can take a minute or so to say it's done the calculation... and then another few minutes to actually finish it.

I only worked this out at the end of Day 2 when I was at my Mum's house in Stafford. I asked it to calculate the route from there to mine in London. I thought the thing had frozen with that annoying 100% status bar on the screen but instead of turning it off I just left it on the side while I did something else. It was a full fifteen minutes before the thing suddenly beeped and told me that it had calculated the route and that it was going to be 180 miles. (And not the 130 miles that Google maps reckoned it would take on foot.)

This gave me enough motivation to dig around in the settings and see if I could improve the functionality. I'm relieved to say that I did. It was simple - and obvious - to set it so that instead of automatically going into recalculate mode it now asks me whether or not I want it to do so. I say no. Then when I rejoin the route of choice, it just carries on... so no 15 minute recalculation is necessary. Phew. Me and the Sat Nav are friends again now.

Anyway, apart from the hills, the ride on Day 1 was pretty much a pleasure. Beyond Reading the scenery was pretty special and it was nice seeing parts of the country I haven't seen before. I passed the most stunningly vast bluebell wood I've ever seen - a carpet of bluebells went on for as far as the eye could see - and the town of Streatley, set on the banks of a nice wide stretch of the Thames was so ridiculously picture-postcard in its beauty that part of me suspects I've made it up. It's on the map though.

But I was always shy of stopping and losing momentum and so did my best to just power on through such places instead of breaking to take photos. Which was a shame and - with hindsight - I suspect, a mistake. But then again, that part of the ride was a constant run of peaks and valleys; long slow punishments followed by swift and exciting rewards. There's no way you can stop at the bottom of a hill. You don't want to start the climb from a standing start if you can possibly avoid it.

My favourite placename of Day1: Kingston Bagpuize.
Interesting wildlife seen: Red Kites: 12. Rabbits: 20 alive. 2.75 dead.
Miles cycled: Difficult to tell precisely because of the Sat Nav's down time. Approximately 90.

It was, I should note, my first experience of saddle soreness. I've done journeys of 40, 50 and 60 miles without ever feeling any discomfort in that department... even if I'm not wearing the right gear. But on this occasion I found it wasn't long after 60 miles that a bit of soreness started to affect me. Hmmm.

Here's Day 2. (With similar blank-filling-in-to-make-up-for-Sat-Nav downtime)
When I set off I was a bit worried. Because while I felt strong at the close of Day 1 things had definitely tightened up overnight. But about ten miles in I started to loosen up and it got easier as the day went on. There were still some awfully unpleasant hills to contend with in the early part of the day mind.

I even, whisper it, broke the speed limit on one occasion. I wasn't trying to but there was a village at the bottom of a steep hill (I think it was Finstock (they should have a festival of Crowded House cover bands)) and it was pretty hard not to build up quite a speed on the way down. I was aware that as I passed the 30mph sign I was doing 34.9mph. Not recommended. Obviously. That would be irresponsible.

My favourite road junction name on Day 2: Camp Hill Circus
Interesting animals seen: Ostriches: 2. Rabbits: 20+ alive, 3 dead. Fox: 1 dead. Ugh.
Miles cycled: Difficult to tell precisely because of the Sat Nav's down time. Approximately 90.

Day 3. This time, having come to a good working arrangement with my Sat Nav, it's been able to upload it to my computer and this is the exact route that I took.

Incidentally, a quick note to the schoolgirls of Tamworth: smoking on the way to school makes you look more childlike, not less. Honest. It really does.

I didn't feel anywhere near as tight in the muscles at the start of Day 3. I reckon I can put that down to the magic of my Skins recovery tights. I slept in them overnight and I'm pretty convinced that my legs started the next day feeling better as a result. Odd. Tingly-odd. But if it works...

The biggest improvement I made as I went on was in stopping, eating and drinking. On Day 3 I think I realised that time wasn't really the enemy as I'd made my previous destinations in the early afternoon both times. (I took between 6 and 7 hours each day). So on Day 3, I took more breaks, sitting on more patches of grass and eating more snacks. I also drank more throughout the day. It's a habit I know I need to get into. Drink before you're thirsty, eat before you're hungry is the advice I've been given. I need to remind myself.

I didn't weigh myself at the end of Day 1 but I know I didn't drink enough. When I got to my Dad's, I'd sweated so much away there were dried salt crystals on my face. I felt fine but that can't be right. I tried to drink more on Day 2. I weighed myself when I got to my Mum's. I was over a stone lighter than I'd been at the start of the Day 1. Criminy! On Day 3 I think I managed to double my liquid intake. At the end of Day 3, my weight was exactly where it had been at the start of the day. I reckon I did okay on Day 3.

Anyway, by the time I got to Northampton - about 2.30 pm I'd done just over 90 miles again and the Sat Nav was telling me that the journey from there to mine was another 90 miles. I was hoping to leave something much smaller for the fourth day - say 30 or 40 miles - so that I'd know I could do it in the morning and still have the afternoon to make my arrangements for the Belfast trip... but seeing as the journey back to London had become 180 miles instead of the predicted 130 that was seeming unlikely. I knew I didn't have another 50 miles in me that day - saddle soreness seemed to kick in at around 60 miles each day - and so there was no way I could make any meaningful dent in the remainder.

I thought about ploughing on to Milton Keynes (has anyone ever thought of that before?) but that would still leave me with 70 miles to do on Day 4 and that didn't seem like a good idea. I was pretty sure I could do it... but a few what-ifs had started to enter the equation. I had to be up at 7am on the Saturday morning. What if I got a puncture 50 miles in to Day 4? What if that - or other delays - meant I didn't get back to London til the evening? Would I still put on a good show in Belfast?

As it wasn't possible to leave a much smaller journey for Day 4 I decided to cut my losses and run. I'd done 90 miles a day for three days running and that seemed like plenty enough to prove a point to myself. I took the train the rest of the way. Well, all the way to Euston - I cycled again from there.

Which is the point at which a potentially useful thought occurred to me.

I'd whizzed round the back of Kings Cross and got on to the canal tow path and was using that to head east using the cut throughs and so on that I know to get me through Islington where the tow path disappears for a wee while. I was cycling differently here. I was back on home turf. I was using my local cycling knowledge. It was a route that the Sat Nav wouldn't have given me. But it was definitely the best route. Which is where this thought comes in.

There's nothing that technology can do to replace local knowledge. I know better routes from A to B on my patch than any computer's ever going to suggest. And the same must be true for other people all over the country.

And there has to be a way of me tapping into that local knowledge when I embark on this tour. I've had a lot of people asking if they can accompany me on certain legs of the tour. Which I've not known how to deal with. Part of me thinks it would be a good idea and part of me worries about feeling responsible for others when I know I'll have a head full of other things to deal with. I don't want to become some unofficial tour guide when it's obvious that I - of all people - don't know what I'm doing. I don't enjoy being "in charge."

But I can see massive benefits in tapping into local knowledge. I don't want to be a tour guide but I don't mind being guided. I don't know how to best organise this but I'll give it some thought.

Yup, the idea of starting the journey from Lizard Point to Grampound in the knowledge that I'm with someone who knows the area and has done the route before sounds pretty damn good to me. And if the next day I meet a new guide who knows the best way to cycle from Grampound to Liskeard... and then...

Two Things (Part B)

2009-05-12T12:29:00.007+01:00

I've split what was one post with two subjects... into two separate posts. Revisionism! Yes. That's right. Good isn't it? Only I wasn't expecting it to garner quite so much attention. But if people are linking to this because of what I've written about the Simon Singh case, I figured it would be easier if that was all they found when they got here.

So... here's that bit:

There's a science writer. His name is Simon Singh. He writes great books about science (one of which inspired a stand-up routine of mine a while back) and writes articles that I think successfully convey the beauty of science and maths to people whether or not they have a sciencey background. I like Simon Singh. He's a good man.

Now... I'm going to tread as carefully as I can here because I'm discussing a legal case. Now, while chiropractors can help with some problems there is, as far as I'm aware, no medical evidence to suggest that they can deal with certain other things... like children suffering from colic or asthma. But the British Chiropractic Association were (and might still be) making claims that their members could help deal with these and other problems.

This seems to me to be an interesting area for discussion and certainly something that a science writer (especially one who has, with the world's first professor of complementary medicine, co-authored a book on the subject) should be writing about. It's important that people know what can and can't be treated in what way. Some complementary treatments have their place in the world but they're harmed if there is obfuscation and/or misinformation about them which if nothing else only helps to bolster the view of cynics who then might overlook the genuine good than can come from other parts of what they do.

Now - I hope I'm treading carefully enough - Simon wrote about this. As I read it he was careful to define his terms. If I was the BCA and I wanted to challenge him about it I'd bring forward the evidence supporting my claims. After all, that's what should be debated. Can they help a child with colic? Are there tests that say they can? If not, why not? Etc.

Instead they have sued him for libel. Which seems like a heavy handed way of silencing a critic. And the preliminary hearing - which helps to define the nature of the case - does not appear to have gone well. It seems the judge has decided what Simon meant when he used the word 'bogus' - even though the judge's view of the word's meaning is a) different to the dictionary definition and b) different to the definition contextualised by Simon in the article. But because the judge has decided that his version of the word is what Simon meant... the case now has to proceed on that basis. Lawks.

One wonders what hope there is for journalism when a science writer cannot describe as bogus, something for which there is no scientific evidence. I mean... we'll end up with nobody able to question anything... and isn't questioning things what both science and journalism are sort of about? I mean, really?

Anyway... I fear I haven't explained this very well. There's a far better explanation of it on the brilliant Jack of Kent blog. As well as taking in that particular entry, I'm going to be using Jack of Kent to help me follow the case as it progresses. It's a free-speech thing. Worrying times.

Two Things (Part A)

2009-05-12T12:25:00.000+01:00

I've split what was one post with two subjects... into two separate posts. Revisionism! Yes. That's right. Good isn't it? Only I wasn't expecting it to garner quite so much attention. The thing is, people were linking to the original post because of stuff I'd written about the Simon Singh legal case and it was confusing because they found me gushing about Misty's Big Adventure instead. I mean, I love MBA... but I wouldn't want someone to walk away from a debate about Freedom of Speech just because they thought they'd followed the wrong link or something.

So, what follows is the fun bit about MBA. The scary bit about Simon Singh being sued by the British Bhiropractic Association is in another post (Part B) if you're interested.

First: I've just discovered that Misty's Big Adventure are touring. They're aces. Here's one of their latest releases. Cool video too:

And here's another one. The fact that the two videos have a little relationship - so to speak - is just a lovely example of the attention to detail and joyful silliness that so endears this band to me. Ahhh.

Anyway... they're playing in Sheffield tomorrow, London on Thursday (hoo ha!) and then, with days off here and there they play in Manchester, Newcastle, Glasgow, Oxford, Norwich, Southampton, Cardiff, Bristol, Birmingham ending in Tunbridge Wells on June 12. If you can get to a gig, I highly recommend you do. If you can bear to look at a myspace page (I know, it's difficult) you can find more details here: myspace.com/mistysbigadventure.

And I would ride 300 miles... and I would ride 300 more...

2009-05-08T23:19:00.003+01:00

The title's a bit of a lie. But in the last three days I have cycled 270 miles.

I'm going to Belfast in the morning and I have a bag to pack... which means I don't really have time to write about it now.

But I will. When I'm back.

In the meantime, know this: my arse is numb.

Hopefully, I'll see some of you in Belfast for my reading on Saturday afternoon.

Limescale

2009-05-03T18:20:00.005+01:00

I love living in London. It makes me very happy. If pushed, the one thing I can think of that lets London down is the water. It's hard. I was used to soft water before moving to London. I was used to soap that lathered with ease and a kettle that wasn't in permanent need of descaling.

I hate limescale. If you've only ever lived with soft water you probably don't know what I'm going on about. If you've only ever lived with hard water you probably just accept limescale as a fact of life and struggle to see how I can actually hate it. But I do. And I reckon anyone who's lived with soft water and then moved to a hard water area probably does too.

There are products that help to get rid of it... but they only ever bring temporary relief. A day or two later and limescale will have crept back to your showerhead, your taps and anywhere else that water reaches. Got a glass shower door? In a hard water area it'll never, ever, ever look anywhere near as nice as it did when it was new. Once water hits it, no matter what you do to try and prevent it, hard water will leave its mark. You show me a Londoner with a sparkling clean, limescale free bathroom and I'll show you someone who doesn't wash. Their taps might be glistening, but believe me, so are their armpits.

It strikes me that limescale creates its own special economy. I assume people in soft water areas aren't bombarded with adverts for Calgon. Well there's no reason why you should be spared the annoying jingle. Go on. Watch this.

Now try and sleep at night without hearing that choir singing the "Washing machines live longer with Calgon!" jingle every time you close your eyes. Go on. Try.

I hate limescale so much that I recently thought about buying a Scale-Beater II. It is - as far as I can make out - a small magnet that clips on to your cold water inlet pipe. It gets rid of your limescale by... hang on, I have no understanding of quite how a magnet can get rid of limescale. Nope. It makes no sense to me whatsoever. But that's how much I hate limescale - enough to consider a completely irrational purchase. I might as well buy a magic incantation or a limescale voodoo doll... and I'd consider those too.
A quick google reveals that the scale-beater II is (or has been) a Reader Offer for The Times, The Independent, The Daily Mirror and loads of local newspapers too. I could go on about how these organisations should be embarrassed to associate themselves with a product as shonky as this but I won't bother with that today. Instead I'll say this: if putting a small magnet on my cold water inlet pipe removes the limescale why don't the water companies put a massive big magnet on their cold water outlet pipe and just soften the water for all of us instead of pumping us this calcium rich, washing machine destroying, iron killing, bathroom defacing, kitchen spoiling rot.

I don't really know how rational the whole anti-limescale economy is. It's certainly motivated in large part by fear. Ads like the Calgon one above work by persuading us to spend a few quid protecting our washing machines - something that costs hundreds of pounds to buy. I've never actually met anyone who's had to replace their washing machine because of limescale build up but I'm persuaded by this culture of fear that it happens and as a consequence I add stuff to my wash to prevent it. (Not necessarily Calgon, mind you, I tend to just use some soda crystals.)

If limescale is as damaging as it is unsightly then it seems to me those of us living in hard water areas are caught out financially one one way or another. If we don't spend money on products designed to fight the stuff - there's a never ending list of special gels, powders and liquids on the market all aimed at your loo, your kettle, your shower, your dishwasher, your washing machine, your taps, your iron etc etc - then we surely end up spending our money on new washing machines, new irons, new kettles and so on. Those of you who live in soft water areas don't just have nicer looking plumbing (missus!) you also have a few extra quid in your pockets that we hard-water victims don't have.

If there was a way of softening the nation's water it's not only limescale that would be wiped out. This whole economy of fear would be wiped out too. Sales of kettles would fall. Washing machines would last longer with or without Calgon. Calgon itself would be gone.

A year ago I'd have been in favour of this. A year ago we weren’t in a credit crunch. We can’t let the economy slow down any more than it has already. As I type this, below-average-looking-women-with-above-average-singing-voices is Britain's only growth industry. The government goes out of its way to protect the car industry. Incentives are discussed to stimulate growth in the new car market... well why shouldn't washing machine retailers be given the same attention? And what about plumbers?

I might hate limescale but I'm prepared to take one for the team here. I have a plan to help rescue us from financial doom and gloom. It’s simple. We need Hard Water For All.

As far as I can tell, in Britain the soft-water areas are Devon and Cornwall, Wales, Scotland and parts of North West England. Well they've had it too good for too long. Let's pump calcium and magnesium into the water supply for the whole country! Scotland: your whisky might taste better with soft water but your plumbers need the work! Come on Devon and Cornwall, your soap might lather up with ease but you're simply not buying as many washing machines per lifetime as the rest of us. Come on Wales, your bathrooms might have effortless sparkle, but if each of you bought just one bottle of descaler that’d pump some much needed cash back into the system. Come on Manchester… your water’s soft. It wears a coat in winter and likes doilies. You can’t be happy with that.

Come on Britain. We need to spend our way out of trouble and if the only way to do it is to make everyone’s lives more limescaley, I for one am prepared to go with it. And if it works for us there's no reason why this can't be rolled out across the globe. After all, the recession is global.

In Australia, Adelaide has hard water... but Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra have it soft. Time for that to end. The water in Canada is generally quite hard - except on the West Coast. 85% of American homes have hard water - but that still means there are 15% of homes that can join this new economy with just a little chemical adulteration to the water supply.

Come on world. Let's make our water - and our economy - harder together.

Tonight! 10pm! BBC2!

2009-05-01T17:16:00.003+01:00

The final episode of Genius goes out tonight. 10pm. BBC2. The title for this entry was your clue.

Here's a preview clip:

As you can see, Stewart Lee is the guest. I think Stewart might well be the finest live stand-up in the country. If you've seen his recent BBC2 series you'll know just how smart and clever he is. It was certainly a real pleasure to work with him.

He was a guest on the first series of the radio show too. Because the show was brand new back then people were sometimes suspicious of the format, perhaps thinking it was a combative show (in which case, bringing in members of the public to spar with a professional comic would be ridiculous) but Stewart saw that they were the heroes of the piece straight away.

"This is bound to go to TV soon," said Stew, "can I come back and do it again if it does?"
"If it does, we'd love to have you," said I.

And four years later we did just that. It's nice when the world works. Fab.

Standing Up.

2009-04-28T13:31:00.006+01:00

Doing a tour by bike offers two distinct challenges. I'm obviously going to be pushing myself physically but the fact that when I get to each town I won't be able to disengage the brain and switch off creates a mentally challenging situation also.

But, as with all these things, the challenge has started already. I have to try and improve my fitness - mental and physical - before the tour starts. I have exercise my writing and performing muscles as well as my legs... there's no point being able to cycle all that way if the show's not up to snuff and there's no point having a great show and not being able to get there.

So, as often as I can I pop out to gigs in town to try out new ideas and play with material. Slowly, incrementally, the amount of stuff I have in my mental locker increases. There are nights like Old Rope on a Monday and various nights at Lowdown At The Albany - not to mention all the regular club nights in London where I'm lucky enough to be able to get a small amount of stage time every now and then. I find it fascinating how material starts to coalesce... the first time you say it, it kinda works. After three or four goes it suddenly gels into something that feels more whole. Or it finds a place next to something else that lifts it. Or something. But it isn't simply a matter of trying out sufficient bits until you've added up enough minutes... things have to hang together. Disparate bits of material that might work individually can work for or against each other when placed in the same set.

So when I've got a chunk of new stuff together in bits and bobs I need to try a longer set in order to see how it flows. To that end I recently did a couple of longer spots at a couple of great London gigs: Islington's ace monthly; Comedy Gold and Kingston's just as ace, Outside The Box.

I'd highly recommend both clubs to anyone wanting to see live comedy because they're both discerningly booked and both likely to turn up interesting surprise guests. I asked if I could compere at Comedy Gold because I knew that would give me a chance to do a bit longer and also because I knew it would offer a different challenge - it was a fun night - and last night I popped into Out Of The Box for the second time. Which was very satisfying for a couple of reasons.

I don't have a proper training schedule in place because I don't keep regular hours... I just try and cycle as and when I can. I've been trying to get some miles under my belt on the lovely new bike but took it out for a proper ride for the first time on Saturday. I went to Windsor and back, a round trip of just over 60 miles - easily the longest ride I've done since the London to Brighton run a few years ago. (Only without any kind of climb to rival Ditchling Beacon) I felt okay on Sunday but didn't have the time for a ride although I did get a good long walk in.

But Monday was a perfect opportunity to get both types of training in. A round trip to Kingston and back added up to around 35 miles - which I did on my old bike because I haven't got locks and luggage sorted for the new one yet - and I set myself the challenge of doing a set that didn't overlap with anything I'd done there the last time.

Because normally I'm doing a short set of new stuff - some of which I'll keep and some of which I won't - or doing a longer set that's made up of old and new and whatever's on my mind at the minute - placing myself under that restriction made it the best barometer I've had so far as to how the writing has been going while the Saturday ride and the journey there also gave me a small, bitesize taste as to the physical side of things. It was a far from perfect gig but the hit rate was still way better than I'd been expecting it to be and the ride to and from was actually just fun. Today - however briefly - I feel confident that things are on target.

It'll be brief, mind you. After all, fear that I'm falling behind schedule is the greatest motivator of all.

PS: I have come up with what I think is probably a sure fire way to stimulate the economy. It could save us. More soon...

A Lucky Boy With A Lovely New Toy

2009-04-20T18:29:00.005+01:00

When I talk to people about the tour I meet one of two reactions. Some people assume that the whole thing is planned in infinite detail that I have a team of doctors lined up and advising me and that I have an Olympics style fitness regime all laid out. Other people assume I'm an idiot who's done nothing.

The second lot are far nearer the truth. I cycle when I can. I haven't planned a single route. I figure it will all sort itself out when the time comes because... well, because it'll bloody well have to.

Some of the people who assume I'm an idiot have been brilliant in offering me advice and assistance. One of those people is someone I'm more than a little in awe of.

I'm an incredibly lucky man. The tour came up in conversation when I was a guest on Something For The Weekend the other day. Sitting at home watching the show was a cycling legend: Chris Boardman. He won an Olympic gold medal in 1992 - at the time, Britain's first cycling gold for 72 years - he's worn the yellow jersey on the Tour de France a few times and he's set a few world records in his time, too!

He got in touch with me that afternoon - y'see, I do read my e-mails - to say he'd offer me a bike. I spoke to him a day or two later - me, on the phone, chatting away to Chris bloody Boardman! - and he was, unsurprisingly, a lovely, funny fella.

Y'know how Britain were ridiculously dominant in the velodrome at the Beijing Olympics? Guess who led the Reasearch & Development team for GB Cycling? Him! What am I supposed to say when someone like that offers me a bike? I mean, I'm not likely to be approached by anyone more knowledgeable am I? Even back in the day he was always more than just a cyclist - he was always involved in bike design.

So I said, yes. Obviously.

And this morning I picked up my new toy. It's so much lighter than my regular bike. I intend to get some miles done on it this week. I'm very, very excited.

Chris is running the London marathon this year. Which is very silly of him because there's no free-wheeling when you run. But apparently he enjoys it. He's doing it for the National Autistic Society. If you want to sponsor him, looky here: www.justgiving.com/chrisboardman

Before my tour, I'm going to be cycling the London to Brighton ride in aid of the British Heart Foundation. If everything goes according to plan, this is the bike that'll take me there. (And back.) If you'd like to sponsor me, looky here: www.justgiving.com/dgorman

This Friday!

2009-04-15T10:51:00.002+01:00

We had to take a week off over Easter because of the golf. But we're back on Friday the 17th and in a novel twist we appear to be on at the same time in all the regions! How refreshing. 10pm. Friday. BBC2. With Johnny Vegas. Hope you can catch it.