Twelfth Night, but no Drama.

Definitely the core of the ride on this wintery Wednesday. There were clear roads for Tom-Tom, Peter H, Justin and SJH all the way to Alder Carr, which had closed its Cafe until (maybe) February. The disappointment was all the greater because Justin had confessed to never having been this most superior of Farm Shops, and we were looking forward to introducing him to its delights.

We are a group not easily cast down by life's vicissitudes, so back into Needham to search for tea. We found, inside a building that Susan and I had visited last May and had a rather indifferent experience, a new enterprise and a warm welcome. Our waitress was more than a match for Peter (terror of the tea room) Heath.

"Can we have a pot of tea . . . . and can we have a jug of hot water to go with it?"
"We do that anyway"
"I'd like a cheese scone - and can you pop it into the microwave for ten seconds?"
"We always do that"

Not only all that, but we were served loose tea, home made scones with jovial service. All this at the double fronted place near MSDC offices, I don't think that it has a name yet. Needham is a bit close for normal weather, but in special circumstances this could be a life saver.

At the café Pete gave a discourse on the Building of the Cathedral Tower, via a few anecdotes gleaned from Horrie Parsons, the Project Manager for the task, which he delivered at an excellent talk he attended recently. What a project; if you wish to be delighted and entertained for ever, then Pete's your man and the tower's the subject. It was, in fact truly fascinating.

T-T suggested that we risk the Creetings rather than the main road, and he was correct, but ominous clouds that looked like wet grey sheets - with pleats in them were developing fast to the north east as we wound our way down through 'Toy Town' to Stowmarket. Fine sleet began as we passed through Borley Green, and became heavier as we went through Woolpit (refusing T-T's offer of a snifter of Bushmills at The Old Police House in favour of getting home safely). Snowflakes were getting fatter, and had settled on the traffic island with A1088, getting heavier as we neared Norton. The glasses needed a regular finger across the lens to be able to see anything. I was dropped off at my door, just grabbing the pic above featuring Peter waving farewell.
I later heard that Justin and Pete got home OK. My total was 32.6 miles. 14.2mph.

Everything's white outside now, 3/4 hour after getting home.