Retrospective: September Revisited

In September time became unmananageable my life was turned over to dramatic events that I could no longer control.

The tall ships came and went with relatively small impact on our day to day lives here in 'The Ryn' except the traffic was a bit hectic and 'Trago's' was left empty for aspiring boaties to peruse at there leisure.

I fell off my bike twice. The first time I was just cycling out of Ponsharden Boatyard (where the boat was on the hard for a couple of weeks while the fiberglassing was done). The exit for the boatyard is on the roundabout at the bottom of the death slide hill that completes the bypass. It was really weird. I'd just cycled up the small ramp that leads onto the round about and cycled a couple of metres past the roundabout. I had not built up speed at all, when the the bicycle came to an unexplainable dead stop. I flew right over the handle bars and landed hard on the heels of my hands (if that's the right turn of phrase). I hadn't done that for years and I was a bit shaken up as a lay on the red tarmac cycle lane. My bike spun out from under me in the middle of the road obstructing one lane of traffic. It's easy to forgot the unforgiving gravel and gritty quality of road surfaces and pavements, having not inspected or even collided with them for quite some time. One person pulled over and stopped to help. I'm not sure exactly what I felt. I don't think embarrassment really registered I was still perplexed by the nature of my collision with the ground and the perspective from road level, one step beneath the kerb. Slowly there came a dull awareness that the mechanised vertiginous wheels anonymously speeding by could at any moment crush my fragile skull. That's an adrenaline rush for you.

The second time was when I let the breaks out of Dunstaville Terrace. Something either hit the spokes of got tanlged in them, I suspect it might have been the strap from my handbag. it never showed in ware. Anyways I let the speed pick up going down hill and then I was literally catapulted off the bike over the handlebars at speed. I literally flew hands out in front of myself like a super hero. Took off even more skin on the heels of my hands scraped all my elbow rolled over looked up only to see the bicycle suspended in midair and land on top of me. There were a few gasps from some passers buy and an older group of people made their way out into the street to help me. Luckily there were no cars on the road. Joyce appeared from the pavement, she lived on Dunstaville Terrace and had just gone to look out the window and had witnessed the unexpected scene while hoping to take in the breath taking harbour. Oh well, she was in shock too. Rather impressive to see a psychologist in shock. Anyways she picked me up off the street explained to the group that she lived right there and we knew each other. They were a bot concerned that I she might be taking advantage of an unexpecting stranger. Then I agree. I think we had a cup to tea and she put the bike in the hall it was a lovely house. I can't remember who else lived there now. By knee were fucked along with my elbows and some how even thought it happened mid morning I ended up staying there the night and reading The Old Man and The Sea. The boat might have been fucked, it might have been the day I met Del, that's a whole other story

Completed 20/06/2018 For more information please see here.