Dahab update

Got five days of diving in with a degree of post dives nerves every time (is that tingling? is it my nerves, is it my imagination or is it DCS?). To help matters along I've been diving on nitrox for the deeper dives: this is air with more oxygen in it, which means there is less nitrogen to be absorbed by the blood during the dive. The nitrox 32 I've been on means that at 30 meters my effective air depth (that is the equivalent depth at which I'd be at while breathing normal air) is about 24 meters. Makes a big difference!

I'm on a rest day today: bit of swimming, chilling, knee exercises, that sort of thing. Four more days of diving from tomorrow then back and on the bike. Truth be told I'm getting into dive bum mode now, so if I don't get on the bike soon I can see me staying here and enrolling on an instructors course in June. Mind, the food in Egypt is indifferent at best: you ever seen an Egyptian restaurant in your neighbourhood? There's a reason for that... 12,000 years of history and the one signature dish they've come up with? Foul medames. 'nuff said on that front. Oh, and the dive centre I'm with is full of gap year kids doing Dive Master and Instructor courses. 18, fresh out of school and guiding me, and others, on dives. Nice enough but... no. Just no.

Time for lunch and a snooze now I think. Weather has cooled to a balmy 31c today but is forecast to be 44c by Monday. Hmmm. Yeah, thinking about it, probably is about time to get on that bike again.

Day whatever, Dahab> but no DCS!

Well, much to report. Spent three days in Bristol then set out again for Devizes... however, my knee then decided that no, it was not going to make it and started playing up worse than ever. This meant a rethink about what to do next. No way could I carry on cycling, just wasn't going to happen. Sticking around the South West for two or three weeks was an option but not one I relished. Came back to the old maxim, when in doubt go diving!
Got a train back to Manchester, helped Helen sort the house out for a few days then got a cheapie flight to Sharm. Originally I booked for a week but then the thought struck why just a week? So I extended it to two weeks and here I am. Arrived a couple of days ago, on a flight mostly without incident, aside from someones bottle of vodka breaking in the overhead compartment during touchdown. This provided a refreshing shower for the people five rows ahead, although not, alas, including the person whose vodka it was. Still could have been worse, the other bottle up there was Malibu!
Got to Poseidin dive center yesterday and when I arrived Hanny {sp?} took one look at me, said hello and went and got me my Advanced PADI card I'd left there two years previously. Which was nice... seriously, fantastic memory! One look, a hello and you left my card. This was the guy who services the kit, didn't know I was coming, just one look.
Went diving yesterday, couple of nice easy dives. First to 20m at Mashraba so they could check me out, then down to the Islands for the afternoon, always a fave of mine, for a 17m dive. Couple of hours after the dive I started to get a nasty tingling in my left hand... similar to but weaker than the incident last August. Queue spending a coule of hours of increasing worry before I gave in and went to the dive center. A quick call to the hyperbaric doctor got me put on O2 for an hour then taken to the chamber. I was not in a happy place mentally during that hour, I figured that was probably it for my diving career. I spent part of the time totting up how much I could get for all my kit on ebay and wondering if sking would be a safer hobby. Or possibly crocodile wrestling.
Got to the chamber by which time the symptons were beginning to remit and was given a thourgh neurological exam by Dr Adel. Lots of touching with pins and brushes, hot bottles and cold, resistance tests and so on. We got to the end of the exam and the diagnosis... {drum roll please} no DCS. Er... what? No DCS and he thought the last incident had been misdiagnosed. In his opinion it was probably a problem with the nerves, possibly in my shoulders. WTF? Shit. Remember these guys in Dahab deal with diving injuries every day.
I would have to be refered to a neurologist in the UK to track down the problem but dive wise I should be OK. I would, of course, not be able to dive for at least 24 hours and I would need three shots of vitamin B complex for my nerves. In the buttocks natuarally. Please feel free to make your own prick in the arse in Egpyt jokes at this point. I know I did.
Had the second injection a couple of hours ago, and I'm off diving for another 24 hours, down to high blood pressure, which I can appreicate as my chest still feels stressed.
The folks from the dive center took me back and we had a chat. I felt like a bit of a twat but better safe than sorry. Turns out one of them has had exactly the same problem... gave some good advice on it as well!
Life continues to be eventful...

Manchester to Bristol, 7th May to 10th May

Leg distance 183 miles.

First of all, apologies for last blog post... did it using a blogger client on my phone which doesn't allow for the use of paragraph marks. Bloody useless. So I'll probably be blogging in legs, which kind of makes more sense.

First leg was from Manchester to Bristol, and it seemed that there was a constant headwind for pretty much the entire time. It was fairly chunky when I set off on Thursday and didn't die down until just before Bristol yesterday. It knocked a good two or three mph of my average speed and took a lot of the fun out of the cycling. I think it also contributed to my knee developing a nasty twinging pain yesterday. I've adjusted the saddle and am taking a rest day in the hope this will help.

Day 1. Manchester to Stafford. 61 miles
Set off from Manchester around 1pm, having failed to properly organise the house and only getting around 90% of the tasks done. Dropped round to Orca to say goodbye and then swung down to Alderly Edge to say goodbye to Helen and have a quick lunch with her. Then I set out for Stafford. It was around this point that I really started noticing the wind, a south westerly blowing at a good 10 to 15 mph which meant I spent the afternoon hacking into it. Bumped into an old Sony Ericsson colleague, Paul Touey, in Alsager which was somewhat odd. I finally made Stafford around 8:20 that evening, a good hour later than I was hoping for. As I said in the last post, Doc, with whom I was staying, was the consummate host. Shower, food and beer on arrival, some good tips on cycle touring and off out with some other old Staffordian friends for beer.

Day 2. Stafford to Holts Fleet, 55 miles.
Had something of a hangover when I set off, but that soon went as I blatted away into that bloody wind again. Beautiful rolling countryside though. Found a pub for a late lunch around 2ish and nipped in. £10 for the cheapest veggie meal although all mains were on a 2 for 1 offer. Given that it was starting to spit outside I bit the bullet and ordered a nut roast with all the trimmings. And the veggie chili...
Although I'd been thinking of getting to the Malverns that evening by 5 o'clock I'd had enough of the constant wind and decided to call it a day. Checked into a campsite for a reasonable £5 and had a quick shower. The chap in the neighbouring tent, Garry, came over and started chatting. It transpires he was having his "worst birthday ever". He was meant to camping with his kids but his evil ex had changed her mind at the last minute and said he couldn't have them until the next day. His new partner turned up and as she was getting ready for them to go out. Garry and I shared some beers and he railed against the inequities of British custody laws as it applied to non-married fathers. He then got onto the subject of Fathers For Justice. What was a chap to do? Encourage him to dress up as Batman and climb up a crane of course!
Declined offer of going down pub, at which point Garry and his new partner promised to cook me breakfast the next day. Crashed out like a light around 10.

Day 3. Holts Fleet to Bristol. 69 Miles.
First night in the new tent went well. Up and out by 8:30 AM: Garry wasn't up by this time so I passed on the breakfast he'd offered in order to get a few miles in. Rolled through Worcestershire into that bloody wind again, which was beginning to seriously piss me off. Even on some nice downhill stretches I was having to peddle in middling gears just to descend. And this was with a fully loaded bike. It was around the Worcester/ Herefordshire border that my knee began to twinge ever so slightly at times...
Dropped down via Gloucester: not a town that seems set up for cycle tourers, bloody confusing traffic system with bizarre unsignposted cycle paths and way too many dual carriageways. Hated it. Managed to shoot through and get onto the canal towpath for a stretch although this wasn't the best surface and with the wind I was barely making 6mph. It was around 2 PM by then and I decided if I was going to make Brizzle at a reasonable time I was going to have to get onto the A38. Turned out to be a good choice! Got my speed up to 10 MPH (w00t!) although my knee was beginning to continually twinge. Worrying. I got a reasonable climb up a hill about 10 miles from Bristol, with a pub at the top and stopped for a quick pint to recharge the batteries and assess the situation. I could back track a few miles with the wind at my back and get a train the last bit. Could soldier on but that might aggravate matters...
Bloody minded fool that I am I decided to finish the ride. I was already going as gingerly as possible and hoped this, along with some ibuprofen, would do. Then, miracle of miracles, the headwind dropped off! Wonderful! I limped into Bristol with a smile on my face, and enjoying myself for the first time that day.
Jon and Shirley are, like Doc, excellent hosts. We went for a wonderful thali in Montpelier then had a couple of glasses of wine and a comparatively early night, which is fair enough given that they're running a 10k race today!

Day 4. Bristol, rest day.
Got a few things to do today, quite apart from just resting my knee up. I'm currently using the internet whilst Jon and Shirley are out on their run. I've checked the weather forecast for the next few days and it's almost enough to make me cry. I'm looking at setting off again tomorrow and although the weather is fine the wind is swinging round to a 24 MPH East North Easterly. NOOO!!! And then on Tuesday it rains... some mentioned to me about these "aero-plane" things the other day. Apparently they only take a few hours to get to India. Maybe I should explore that option...

Day 1, Manchester to Stafford

61 miles in 5 hours 22 mins.
Bastard headwind all the way for which I blame Phill for wishing me tailwinds all the way, weather jinx that he is. Bumped into Paul Touey, an ex SE colleague which was a bit strange. Made it to Stafford for 8.20 ish knackered but happy.
Doc was a fantastic host, there was food, beer and a shower waiting followed by the with some old Stafford friends (John "Dad", Alex Girosky and Cas). Got to bed at one ish, starting to ache...