I'm a big fan of romance...

It's true. As the title suggests, I'm a big fan of romance. Romance is responsible for some fantastic things. Romance is responsible for the Mona Lisa. It helped Da Vinci see beyond the rich man's wife to create a masterpiece. Romance helped me bag the perfect wife. Romance helps me to see the best in situations, to ignore the patently obvious and crack on regardless. romance rarely lets me down.

Let's take today as an example. Today we had a lovely day. I started with some work. It was productive, I was creative and I got good feedback. I spent some time refining a new business idea and getting pretty excited. We headed off to see Di's bestie, who we haven't seen for ages.

We stopped for a cheeky McDonalds on the way. We walked their beautiful new puppy, spent time catching up, visited the park and left in high spirits. On the way home we stopped in an outdoors shop and headed back towards home. since it was getting on we decided to find somewhere for dinner.

In Cambridge we found a beautiful small pub (The Granta), there was a perfect (free) parking space nearby, we enjoyed a couple of sharing platters and a taster set of beer. The location was perfect with river views and the sound of punts making their way up and down the river. During the meal the kids asked about punting and we decided it might be a nice thing. The sun was shining, the kids were happy and we managed to negotiate a good deal on the self drive punt.

So with excitement and a small amount of trepidation we set off on our journey. Me gradually getting used to the punt. Actually, let me justify that... To say I gradually got used to the punt is probably an overstatement of the truth. I'd love to say I took to this like a duck to water (aside from the obvious wet bottom connotations), but I fear it wouldn't be fair. I suffered slightly to start with. Every time I thought I was getting it, I'd pick the stick up, put it back in and go the wrong way. to correct I'd shift my feet imperceptibly, at which point my wife would panic (trust issues), sit bolt upright and stick her arms out. This would destabilise the punt slightly, I'd shift my feet imperceptibly and the cycle would start again.

We got used to this, we sat back, punted along, corrected the bad driving and enjoyed the sun. We laughed. As we turned back we even shared a joke with Zach (5) about how he didn't need a wee after all... Or did he?

As we came back under the bridge Zach was clearly agitated. Di briefly suggested he pee over the side, but somehow we couldn't make that right in our heads. My driving had failed to improve. I'd make excellent progress towards a potential toilet stop, before the punt would turn sideways and we'd head off in other direction. Zach jiggled more, my driving got worse, Joni made nervous noises and Di looked generally worried.

Then the inevitable happened...

We turned (correctly) right...

There was some jiggling in the boat...

Joni made a nervous noise...

The boat wobbled slightly as it settled back on a course...

Zach leant forward and Di made a small, almost imperceptible, whimper...

I chirped a reassuring "We'll be back soon."

Di responded with a resigned sigh "It's too late!"

And that was it. Di and Zach were sharing a plastic seat. A plastic seat which was now covered in wee. My punt driving was not improved by the shifting and chaos. The punt turned in completely the wrong direction.

Eventually we gave up on the stick. I sat, used the "emergency" oar and made good calm progress. We made it back to the base, and half apologised to the guy for giving up on the stick. I paid him, trying desperately to make small talk and avoid Joni's constant insistence that we really should tell hum Zach had done a wee! We walked in silence towards the car, stopped for another wee (seriously I don't know where he puts it!) and said nothing.

Once we made it to the car we did of course tell Zach it wasn't a problem. We shared a brief, nervous, laugh and acknowledged that at some stage we would laugh about it. I updated Facebook, by way of a warning to others, to ensure they new the dangers of giving in to such whims.

And now returns my good friend romance. You see romance ensures that in the not too distant future the scars of chaotic navigation, tired legs, heavy arms, wobbly boat panic and wee soaked jeans will fade. Romance will ensure that at some point in the future we'll remember only the smiles in the picture below. Romance means we'll remember only the calm water, warm breeze and distant clink of glasses.

Romance means that one day we'll finish a drink, stroll along the river and say "Let's get a punt along the river?". If I'm honest that is the reason I truly love romance!

Heroes

Who is your hero? I guess the list could be lengthy. It could be a childhood teacher, a respected friend of the family, that elusive great uncle or your friends big brother/sister. I'm conscious about the choice of heroes from a different perspective now - Joni comes home with stories of how brilliant x was at school today (Usually for passing wind out loud or similar) and I wonder if I'm doing the best I can to steer them in the right heroic direction.

I've had lots of heroes in my life. For a while Bill Gates was the creative mastermind behind a shift change in the use of computers on business and personal life. I thought he might be an excellent hero, until you dig below to realise he was actually just a very astute, and I'm sure at time ruthless, businessman. Notwithstanding of course his more recent philanthropic work.

My more recent love for all things Apple mean that Steve Jobs could have been a target, but read his biography and you'll soon realise that, although he undoubtedly worked to create amazing products, he was single minded and somewhat troubled. (Incidentally I have a copy of his biography which you're welcome to if you want a read)

Earlier in life I had Richard Branson down as a hero. A rich man who made a fortune and an enormous empire out of nothing... Well a few records and a market stall. A possible target, but not sure if ultimate hero remains true.

Perhaps I should be thinking more ethereal - Richard Bach, the author of my favourite book Jonathan Livingston Seagull, helped me to think beyond the now into what I might be capable of in the future. Not within the bounds of the potential heroes above, but beyond what we think might be possible. I took the positivity from JLS, recommended by my Dad and something I've since discovered enlightens people of all ages, and I read more. I read many more that Richard Bach has to offer - A Bridge Across Forever, A Gift of Wings, Illusions: Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah, and more. It turns out they're interesting, but none grabbed me in quite the same way. Perhaps they kindled an unnecessary desire to learn to fly, but none inspired me in the same way.

I'm sure there's far more people I could highlight. People with superhuman achievements, that have worked tirelessly to help others, to improve medicine, science, technology, society... There are I'm sure hundreds to choose from.

And then it strikes me. As I'm lying here, wondering about who my hero really is the answer is obvious. My hero is a chameleon of abilities. They are like a human Swiss Army Knife. My hero is my wife, Diana. You see she's beautiful. Not in "She's my wife I have to say that" way, but in a matter fact "Batted out of your league there Jason" kind of way. She's wonderful, loving, caring and she makes me laugh. She's out having fun one minute and being the perfect mother the next. She's the home loving superhero one minute and exercise addict the next. She's long suffering wife of a cyclist one minute  followed by biggest supporter the next.

I hate to say this, but she is also almost always right. It's really annoying, but true. And to top it all she is enormously clever, having just proved that by putting the most enormous amount of work of her well earned degree. (A skill which I'm sure she will use to critique my writing in this post, factually and annoyingly!)

I love my wife, I think she's great. She will definitely tell me that this is soppy, unnecessary and a little embarrassing, but whatever happens she will still be my amazing best friend, supporter and all round brilliant person.

PS She's rubbish with the Mac though, that has to be her only fault!

I found this little place...

It's a quaint place, where the locals are friendly. When I visited they bent over backwards to accommodate me. They were supportive, they were encouraging and they went out of their way to make my friends and I feel comfortable. As I made my way around this place I noticed that some of the locals had come out to see I was ok, some came out to check I knew my way or tell me what was around the corner. As my day here wore on yet more of the locals offered me food (mostly free) or drink (tea, coffee or beer!).

I struggle to recall a time that I was made to feel more welcome anywhere. A place where the people were so proud of what they have that just want to share it. I thoroughly recommend that you visit one day, if you can.

The place was called London... Oh and a little place next door called Surrey.

This weekend I took part in the Prudential Rude London-Surrey 100. It was a closed road sportive covering, you've guessed it, 100 miles of London and Surrey roads. The route was amazing, covering the sights of London, the epic proportions (and leg splitting power) of the Surrey Hills and the majestic grandeur of Pall Mall and Buckingham Palace. But something far more beautiful made it all worthwhile - the incredible atmosphere. At Olympic Park the atmosphere was generated with massive speakers, an energetic announcer, pumping music and the excitement of what lies ahead. As we head out through London the thought of what lay ahead built the atmosphere amongst the riders, the novelty of completely closed roads, free from traffic, clutter and wide open for us to enjoy. Then something even more magical happened - as we turned in to Kingston the streets were lined with supporters. Some families of riders, some came along to cheer on charity supporters and some came out just to catch a glimpse of a magical day in London.

The appearance of supporters continued for every last mile. Cheered us on, calling the names on our shirts, making noise, waving flags and shouting encouragement. As we made our way up steep hills they spurred us on. They encouraged us by telling us how close we were to the top, they made us feel better for all the effort we put in. As the route flattened out some were offering drinks, or snacks. Some had even lit barbecues and many played loud music and built their shouts in to a crescendo as we rode past. As we got closer to the end the children (mostly) took to holding out their hands for high fives.

A highlight for me was the glorious bar in Cobham, the garden of which was packed to bursting and, as I passed, the live band were giving their all to a beautiful rendition of... Homeward Bound, by Simon and Garfunkel. Moments like that are special. Another highlight was the volunteer steward, stood on a traffic island at the bottom of the very last hill in Wimbledon, who saw the look on our faces as we rounded the corner and saw the hill ahead, blew her whistle and told us this was it. The very last ascent.

To me the event was superb. The atmosphere reminiscent of the olympic atmosphere. The volunteers around the route smiled, full of energy to spur us on. No mean feat, being that I was probably 3/4 of the way down a pack of 16,500 riders! I even saw some supporters in their olympic volunteer jackets, reminding me of that special atmosphere.

I'm sure the event caused many some heartache. Some inconvenience as they came across vast swathes of London that were inaccessible to traffic. I 'd like to thank those people. I'd like to thank the volunteers, the paid security, the St Johns Ambulance, the parks staff, the police, the organisers... Most of all I'd like to say - Thank you London!

If you like to cycle and feel you can I would thoroughly recommend you register for next years ride. It's tough. Very tough, but oh so worthwhile. If you don;t ride, go along. Experience London in a different way, with empty streets and supportive Londoners everywhere!

Ballot opens on Monday 12th August at http://www.prudentialridelondon.co.uk. Give it a go, why not???