London Marathon

It was the hottest London marathon on record, and although I'm not exactly sure of the official temperature they were predicting 23 degrees and it sure was hot. There was a record number of runners, about 37,000 registered and I think about 35,600 finished. There will still be some clowns out there for the next few days, including one idiot who is 'slow motion walking' the entire course and reckons it will take him 3 days.

I managed a personal best and almost got the time I was aiming for - 9 seconds out, my time was 2:48:09 so was pretty happy given the heat and the crowds. The website tells me I was 300th but in closer inspection I was the 300th male and 317th overall, nonetheless I'm pleased with that.

The heat / dehydration / exhaustion got to me at the end and my face, tongue and arms were all numb and my mouth felt like I couldn't fit a pea into it. I lost the ability to speak properly for a while but after enjoying a free massage feeling gradually came back and I made my way out of the finishing chute about an hour after I'd crossed the line!

Thank you very much to all those who came out to watch. I managed to pick out most of you somewhere along the way and the support really spurs you along. And big thanks to Steph who has supplied the photos below.







Also, check out this link, it appears there were cameras everywhere!

Hampton Court Palace

After a long, slow, leisurely cruise down the Thames, we finally arrived at Hampton Court palace for a bit of a look around. It was a brilliant day and the gardens and the hedge maze were the clear highlights. The Palace itself was huge, with massive empty rooms which I'm sure would have been interesting if we'd taken the time to read or listen. But it was such a nice day outside it seemed more appropriate to check out the tulips, beat the girls in the first to finish the maze challenge and play some French cricket.

Gabs and Steph.



Hamish and Steph



The tulips were a clear highlight

Brighton

Brighton is the closest 'beach' to London, if you call a bank of pebbles a beach. We decided to check it out one fine Sunday before the madness of summer hits, although as you will see from the photos, why anyone would go mad over this place is beyond me. In saying that, we had a good look around and an enjoyable day.

Its a strange world we live in - Bermuda had stunning beaches, weather, water and no people on the beach - Brighton had none of the above and yet there were still hundreds of people around.

Beach and pier.



Gus and Jamie at the end of the ghost train. Gus was petrified. Jamie was embarrassed that she goes out with such a wimp....



The Royal Pavillion

Bermudaful days

Bermuda, the island of sun, sand, surf, swimming, scooters, slack Bermudians, stray chickens and sensational cricket.

Hamish and I were treated to 5 star accomodation in Josh's luxurious flat which had room for about 20 other people rather than just the 2 of us. This was lucky given our performance over the course of the week; by about 9:30 each night we had fallen asleep in the chair or on the couch exhausted after some hectic days, although maybe Josh's dark and stormy's had a bit to do with that as well.

It didn't take us too long to get into the Atlantic, our first day dawned bright and sunny so it was off to pick up the scooters that Josh had hired us for the week and then a tour of the Southern beaches which lasted until the 2nd beach until we jumped in.



As you can see it was rather quiet during the week and we decided that we'd chosen a good week to visit, the temperature was a consistent 20 degrees which was hot enough for swimming, cricket on the beach, BBQing and getting sunburnt - the essential ingredients for a successful holiday on a tropical island.

We had an incredible week and it was hard work leaving on Saturday night. Josh was a marvellous host and it was great to see him again. The photos below will show a bit more about what we got up to.

The light bulb in the Gibbs Hill lighthouse. Great views from up here.



Looking back towards Hamilton, the capital, from the ferry to Dockyards.





Green turtle at the Aquarium.



Marking 'centre' for a serious game on the beach.



Fantasy cave.



The powerful Boston Whaler...



With Captain Hamish in charge.



The smallest 'draw' bridge in the world (which is never drawn)



At the first driving range, the second one we went to had an automatic ball feeder which teed up automatically for you.



Josh biking the Bermuda rail trail - we hired bikes and they were the worst bikes in the world. Josh's was a stunner, 2 gears that worked out of 21.



Hamish lining up a putt on the 18 hole golf course that was all par 3's.



Me on my scooter, Josh's place in the background.



And one for the ladies - a couple of hunks in the Atlantic.

Barthalona

It was early morning start that even Dad would be proud of - up at 3:20am to catch a train to the airport for my Saturday morning flight to Barcelona. Julia flew in from Liverpool and we arrived in Barcelona at about the same time so we caught a taxi to our hotel rather than wasting time interpreting the public transport system. Already I was sweating in my trackpants and jersey, the weather in Barcelona was spectacular all weekend, low to mid 20's which was perfect.

We met Chris and Sarah and headed into town to pick up race numbers for the marathon the next day. We had planned to breeze in and pick up our numbers and catch a train to Montserrat for the afternoon but after standing in line for our numbers for over an hour it was a 50/50 call. We decided to go for it and only just made the train but it was well worth it. Montserrat is a monastery set high on a rock face 40 km out of Barcelona. (It was a bit worrying to think that the distance to Montserrat was the same as the distance we would be running the following day and as the minutes ticked by on the train my legs were getting sore already.) You might ask why the crazy Monks built a monastery high on the hill - well it has something to do with an image of the virgin Mary found in a cave and rumours about the Holy Grail - either way it clearly had special significance. These days it is a bit touristy and you can even drive up from the other side but we took the cable car which was a highlight in itself.......













To get to the top of the hill we had to catch a funicular to the top which was basically a steep cable car. We had a wander round the hills, called in at the chapel to view the image of the virgin Mary and rushed to get the cable car back down so we could catch our train back to Barcelona. It would have been nice to spend longer there to walk around the hills as it was so quiet and relaxing, and of course the weather was perfect.

Looking back down the funicular tracks to the monastery.



Chris and Sara at the top of the hill.



Looking back towards the monastery.



The entrance to the chapel.



Candles outside the Chapel.



It was another early start on Sunday morning for the marathon. We didn't have too much time to spare so there wasn't much time for any last minute doubts. We started along with 6,500 others, fortunately the field was split into estimated time slots all colour coded which was relief because even non Spanish speakers could understand.

The course was fantastic, quite flat and it hit a lot of the big sights in Barcelona. We started and finished at Pace d'Espanya and ran past Camp Nou (Barcelona Football Stadium), Sagrada Familia, the Ramblas, Arc de Triomf, Catalunya Government grounds, Casa Batlio and a big building that looked like the London Gherkin. Not that we had much time to take this all in of course!

Chris and Sara met me at the 25km and 30km mark with some flat coke and some much needed words of encouragement, the most motivating coming from Chris when he told me I was the wrong colour to be running marathons - a fair point after they had witnessed 3 skinny Africans clear out from the rest of the field.

I was happy with my race, I flew through the first 30km in an average time of 3:49 per km but then faded in the heat over the last 10km to finish in 2:49:40 which was good enough for 97th place. This was my best time by about 8 minutes so I was pretty satisfied. Julia also ran her best time of 3hrs 50 so we'd had a pretty successful race. However, our efforts pale in comparison to the winner who smoked it in 2hr 12. Absolutely incredible.

Me....



...and some real runners



Me absolutely buggered but at least I look like I have energy in my tasty highlighter yellow!



These photos are at taken at the finish of the race. The Spaniards clearly love their water features.







After the race we headed out for lunch and a well earned beer, followed by a very slow stroll around town. By this stage we were starting to pick up the odd Spanish word. My favourite was 'Ringa ringa' which is what all the supporters would shout out when you were running, but I have no idea what it means. We were also discovering that to be good at Spanish, a Jamie Oliver lisp was essential as 'Gracias' (thank-you) was pronounced 'Grathias' so it followed that 'Barcelona' should be pronounced Barthelona'. As some of you know I am already considered an expert in Spanish so finding out that a lisp was required was a bit of a shock, but we handled it well.

Chris and Sara went flew back to London on Sunday night (only just after taking the wrong train to the airport). Julia and I didn't have too much energy left at this stage so Sunday night, and all of Monday was pretty low key but we walked around a bit more of of the city, went back for a decent look at the Sagrada Famila and taste tested the local Sangria which was very good. I got home at 1:30 in the morning on Monday night, very tired but very happy after a brilliant weekend and I'd go back in a flash.

Gaudi's creations - the unfinished Sagrada Familia.....









.... and Casa Batlio



A narrow alley in the Ramblas

(if you are squeamish don't look at the last photo)



Check this out Dad, heaven. Saw this in a market in the Ramblas, everything from sheep's heads to bull testicles.... yum!!