First I cycled 4.1 miles to work.
Then I sat in my crappy chair working at my desk for nine hours. At one point during the day when some of the younger and sillier members of staff were finding something hilarious and making a great deal of noise about it, one of my more mature colleagues asked me if I actually liked coming in to work in all this mayhem. I replied that I do it for money. It was assumed that I have a dry sense of humour.
After work I cycled 4.1 miles to Danish Camp to meet up with a social group, some of whom I have met before, for an evening of live music and jollity. I have not been to Danish Camp before but it's a lovely setting. Food and beer are a little over-priced but I imagine there are some logistical difficulties with getting supplies in so I'll forgive them for that. Also resident is Ozzie the Eurasian Eagle Owl who has apparently lived there since he was an egg in May 2010. He has an enclosure next to a whole load of budgerigars and he is taken out by gauntlet to the barge where he sits on the roof and enjoys travelling up and down the river. I'm not sure how much actual free-flying he fits in and I was a little sceptical about his perch being right beside the live band, but apparently loads of loud noise and flashing lights don't bother him. Hmmm. They probably know best.
The live band had three solo vocalists who took turns, which allowed for a greater variety of genres than most bands can achieve, what with one singer doing a passable copy of Kate Bush and another of Eric Clapton. Nobody attempted Wuthering Heights but I can't blame them for that.
And then I cycled 4.8 miles home, shown the way through the dark woods by James, who has done it enough times to know it in the dark. I thanked him enormously because left alone I would have taken an incorrect turn early on and become horribly lost.