It is needless to say that I had a great time in London last weekend. I caught up with few friends at Jubilee Church, relived the customary Saturday morning breakfast at a local restaurant, where the table is always alive with discussion that ranges from theological debates to relationship advice. Talking about relationship, one of my friends in Jubilee was bold enough to ask another friend to marry him. Good guy. He was lucky, she said yes. And what did he do afterwards? He stood before the church the next Sunday morning and announced the deal. Maybe it’s for insurance purpose. In case she wants to change her mind. Why would she anyway, they are both fit for each other, and moreover he is one of the good looking guy in the church. I spent most of the Saturday bullying Angelala and trying to eat all the food she’s got. Unfortunately they are not as spicy as the Nigerian meal I’m used to. Saturday meal with the Taverners was great. I stayed with them for the two nights. They treated me like a son coming home after a long time.
Okay, enough of London and my friends in London. I’m back in Bristol. I couldn’t believe I made the return journey in less than 1.40 hours on M4. I was really fast. I kept telling myself I need to drive as fast as I could now, because I won’t be able to do it again when I’m married. Married men are more responsible on the road, so I think. Anyway, I made up for my fast-pace, energy-wasting, CO2-emmiting, global-warming, planet-destroying journey by riding my flatmates bike to work today. Mistake! It was pure pain. It’s been almost a year since I rode a bike. All the muscles in my body are crying blue murder. I don’t know what a Nigerian guy like me is doing on a bike (keke). You need to see my face while riding up hill. It was pitiful. Anyway, I survived it as I hope to survive the lonely season I’m going through at the moment here.