So I packed my bags last night to prepare my clothes for the week with a view to cycling every day.
The only problem was it was pouring. As if it were not depressing enough after 2 weeks in the sun. It though got worse. At Penge I got a flat so had to jump onto a train. The platform was though packed with attitude rife south east Londoners who were not willing to let me and my soggy bike onto the train. 3 trains later I get a space but only to Herne Hill. Same saga there.
Eventually I made it into office. I felt like someone was playing a sick joke on me as when I got in there was a massive sign for our Aus and NZ annual conf with a picture of the harbour bridge and perfect blue skies.
The real sick joke is though the loss of Makayah McDermott who was tragically killed last week. The boys knew him and was in the year between Lucas and Jack at Bromley FC. I cycled past there tonight where it happened and felt physically sick.
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