Woohoo!

There's something oddly pleasing about getting caught out in a good old summer downpour, on your bike, in shorts and a t-shirt. It's not cold if you keep moving and by the time you've reached saturation point, which was pretty quick this afternoon, it's not going to get any worse so you're just as well squelching on. And when it stops, you're dry again in minutes.

Move all that a few months either way and it's a goddam misery.

Not sure if it was that or the bombing down Stirling's authentically historical cobbled streets earlier that's done my neck in though, but now sitting here self-medicating with Rioja and a heat pad. Doesn't feel like it's working though, so going to have to hit it with the big guns I think. Jura with an Ibuprofen chaser I think.