Surfin' Safari...Day 1...Costa Mesa to Palm Springs...Sunday 24/04/11

In all honesty, that was about as pleasant as 110 miles on a bike can ever be, with 'champagne cycling' for thirty miles until the first stop. Obviously everybody was a tad excited, if not giddy at having finally started this madness!

The twenty or so of us set off from the hotel about 0730 and made our way down to Huntington Beach where tradition was observed i.e. you got your feet wet in The Pacific and dipped your back wheel in. No, me neither!

As you can probably see we a bit lucky with the overcast conditions- thankfully it wasn't baking-hot, hah-hah! Our luck held all the way until about 30 miles from the end: well, the sun has to shine in Palm Springs...it's the law.

Random landmark no.1...Anaheim Stadium, home of The Angels.

Plenty of that below... 

 When you see the turbines you know that Palm Springs isn't too far away. Well, that plus the road sign said so.

 Our Tour Leader, Mike, had told us that we could expect an insanely easy finish for the last 15 miles: the man wasn't lying. The speedo says 39 mph near enough (and I for one believe it)...and that was on the flat!

So we did indeed showboat-it big time to the hotel. Tomorrow though is gonna be quite a bit tougher so the preparation (H) starts as soon as I've stopped typing this rubbish. Cheers!

Stats...always with the stats...What Garmin reckons!

I go cycling, so Prince goes cycling...

When the Wee Man Prince announced this run of shows at the L.A. Forum and I realised that at least one would coincide with me being in the neighbourhood (well, 40-odd miles away) then there was a better-than-even-money chance that I would try to attend. The clincher was his decision to sell most of the tickets for $25. Er, that's not even £20...there are probably Prince tributes out there who charge as much!

Anyway, after paying almost as much to park the car I just about made it to my seat to see the house lights dim and of course hear the 17000 punters go berserk and then...the lights go back on again...and then off...cue pandemonium...then back on...the Wee Man was clearly loving teasing his people and when he did make his entrance through the trap-door/lift in the middle of the stage you must've heard the roar back in Blighty!

Here is the setlist: I only knew about three of the songs, not that I cared a jot as it was a joy to hear these people play...

Beginning Endlessly

Laydown

Endorphinemachine

She's Always In My Hair

Future Soul Song

Take Me With U

Raspberry Beret

Cream

Cool/Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough

Let's Work (mostly instrumental, played in the dark)

Hollywood Swingin'

U Got The Look

Misty Blue (Shelby vox)

How Come You Don't Call Me Anymore (with Alicia Keys)

When Doves Cry/Nasty Girl/Sign O' The Times/TMBGITW/Darling Nikki

If I Was Your Girlfriend

Encore 1:

DMSR

Controversy/a few lines from Housequake

Encore 2:

Purple Rain

The Wee Man was in a guitar-mood for sure and he alternated between two Teles. When he slung it behind him a la Bruce I did wonder if they had more in common than you think...both prolific songwriters, both love shredding solos, both play whatever the bloody hell they want for as long as they want...er, that's about it really. Alright maybe they aren't related but they are cut from the same cloth. At least that's my take on it!

He did make one comment early-doors about how he never cared if he never got his songs played on the radio again, he just loved music. Of course this was greeted with hysteria: if he had have said that he loved pickled onion Monster Munch then there would have been an outbreak of "hell yeahs". And he would have been right, of course.

There were two curveballs thrown by him last night: the first was the brevity of the show at 'only' 90 minutes but of course this was a weapons-grade 90 minutes: anyone who complains about that show ($25 or not) needs their ears tested and then a good shoeing.

This was musicianship and choreography of the highest calibre...we've all heard of performers having charisma, presence or dare I say the X- factor, well this guy is the real deal.

He usually delights in fetching some folks out of the audience to dance with him and last night we had the spectacle of Rosario Dawson and Cuba Gooding Jr. onstage...the latter went for it big time and was almost worth the $25 by himself!

The only moment that I didn't particularly love was when he was joined by Alicia Keys to duet; obviously her voice was good but not a patch on Prince's own cohort, Shelby.

After a stellar 'Purple Rain' he disappeared and that really was it save for the second curveball...after about ten muntes he appeared on a bicycle and rode around the arena floor! No, I'm not making this up. Well, if it's good enough for Prince...

Don't suppose he'll be down at Huntington Beach early tomorrow though...

Frágil! Manejar con cuidado. Gracias!

A 24 hour transit day from sunny Wesham to er, sunny Costa Mesa. Against all the odds there were no cock-ups: B.A. were cool about the bike, but more importantly so were the baggage handlers as it seemed to be fairly unscathed. I say 'seemed' as I haven't actually unpacked it fully yet, ahem.

At T5 it was safe to say that Olympic fever hadn't quite taken hold...yet.

...and it was heartening to see some sort of public profile for Macmillan, not to mention Johnny Foreigner lobbing in his coins.

And one for the road. Honest.

The Obama-mobile aka Airforce One was parked at LAX when I arrived: he was in town trying to raise some shekels for his re-election coffers. Wonder if he gets the same old line from Clooney as I get from T.T.P., "It's on my to-do list mate...remind me later."? Only joking Timothy...I know you'll cough eventually.

Pick up the hire motor no problem and have Easter-mental traffic all the 40-odd miles to Costa Mesa. Motel is fine and I'm pleased to see that the America By Bike company really does exist!

Head out for a steak and some top local brews- it's when you see this you remember that you're in that America alright...

Finally found these tasteful items waiting for me..."Well alriiiight...how you doin' L.A.? Keef, keep pedallin'! Well awriight!"

Blessed are the baggage-handlers!

More nonsense to come. Bet on it.

Where your money is going.

A couple of days ago I met up with Fundraising Manager Linzi Young at Trinity Hospice, having a not-many cheesey photo-op for the local paper in the hope of
a) assuaging my rampant ego, and
b) perhaps getting a donation or two from the readership.

It was my first time back there since visiting Linda last July: as a wise man said to me the other day, have a look around places like that and then tell me how big your problems are.
By the way, that t-shirt was Denis Roussos size *and* it was blowing a gale from behind, ahem...

Well if The Doc says it's ok...

I've had a pain in my right knee since the end of January. At first I did the usual thing i.e. ignored it, but eventually I went to see my G.P., who guessed it was an inflamed bursa. Why the sodding thing had to become inflamed and seek attention no-one knows.

Anyway, he prescribed Diclofenac anti-inflammatory pills which didn't help much so he sent me to see a knee consultant down in Manchester, Mr. Sampath. A funny bloke, as he should be given that his knees are in great nick.
He also reckoned on an angry bursa but wanted me to have a M.R.I. scan just to make sure that no ligaments or cartilage were playing up. To cut a long story to exactly the same length, I got the result of the scan and here it is...

The Man from Oaklands he say...
"M.T.F.U.!"

It's itinerary time...

Just received the daily mileages...all seems a little bit more real now. And as bad as I thought, hah-hah!