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Holland Tunnel

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Holland Tunnel

The Slants Wicked Tour Blog 7: Dez Cadena of The Misfits Gets Slanted! (NYC Pt 2) Holland Tunnel by Wolfking John Phillips Arnine consist leaves Canal Street Shooting Outside Holland Tunnel Causing Major Traffic Delays « CBS … The incident apparently occurred following a police chase that ended at the tunnel’s toll plaza. In Flex We Trust » BREAKING NEWS: Shooting Outside Holland Tunnel !! A shooting on the New Jersey side of the Holland Tunnel has shut down the tunnel heading into New York City. According to CBS New York, the incident may involve a driver who refused to pay the toll. The tunnel may not reopen until … Port Authority Police Shoot Suspect At The Holland Tunnel | Free … UPDATE: A control-involved shooting аt thе Holland Tunnel Friday evening caused severe delays heading іntο аnd out οf Nеw York City. One suspect wаѕ hit іn thе shoulder аnd sustained non-life threatening injuries. … Jersey City List – Inbound Holland Tunnel closed by shooting … Inbound Holland Tunnel closed by shooting. Updated at 07:17 PM today. Eyewitness News NEW YORK (WABC) — The inbound Holland Tunnel is closed due to a shooting on the Manhattan side. There is a lot of police activity focused around … CENTRAl STATION LOVES YOU: SHOOT OUT AT HOLLAND TUNNEL !!!! WOW)))) A shooting on the New Jersey side of the Holland Tunnel has shut down the tunnel heading into New York City. According to CBS New York, the incident may involve a driver who refused to pay the toll. The tunnel may not reopen until … Cometgirl71822 says: RT @sing_loud : whoa –> 2 suspects in custody after Holland Tunnel shooting, traffic jams | NJ.com http://t.co/ehrCALO

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Texans

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Texans

Rahr & Sons Snowmagedon | Jay’s Beer Review Michael Dunn 2008 Senior Bay Area Texans White Receiving TD Amber Blackstock in the Houston Texans Draft party 2011 The Houston Texans Jewish Lewis Twins Unleashed On Houston Fans At … A week or so ago we told you about the insanely hot blond Jewish twins gunning for spots on the 2011-12 Houston Texans cheerleading squad. Last night, Michelle and Rachel Lewis, were unleashed at the team’s NFL Draft party where … Texans Add Pass-Rushing OLB in Brooks Reed » Texans Gab Last night the Houston Texans added J.J. Watt to their newly coached defensive line. Today, the Texans added Arizona Wildcat and 3-4 pass rush outside linebacker, Brooks Reed, with their second round pick. Reed fits Wade Phillips’ 3-4 … Top 10 Texans Draft Successes – #1: Andre Johnson – Battle Red Blog Read More: andre johnson owns cortland fin negan, cortland innegan, andre johnson is more god thanman, andre johnson is better than you, andre johnson beat that ass, texans draft successes, top ten texans draft successes, David Carr (QB … Texans swap picks, get Miami CB Harris | The Associated Press … The Houston Texans swapped picks with New England on Friday and drafted Miami cornerback Brandon Harris with the 60th overall selection in the second round. The Patriots acquired the Texans ‘ third-round pick (73rd overall) and … Houston Texans – Blog | Texans pick Brooks Reed at No. 42 « Reed (6-3, 263) was just described by Mike Mayock on NFL Network as the “ideal 3-4 rush linebacker,” which was a primary position of need for the Texans entering the draft. Reed started 27 of 38 games at right defensive end for Arizona, … MizzGlamm77 says: RT @jjwatt : My brothers & I in the middle of Times Square. Repping the Badgers & Texans of course. #DBWH http://twitpic.com/4r92j9

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Trump F Bomb

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Trump F Bomb

Donald Trump “F-Bomb” in Las Vegas Donald Trump Drops Multiple F-Bombs in Las Vegas Speech Donald Trump Drops F-Bombs During Speech At Las Vegas Casino – Tirade Of Profanity TRENDING: Trump's f-bomb tirade | boomeroo TRENDING: Trump’s f-bomb tirade. (CNN) – Real estate mogul Donald Trump served up a profanity laced speech to Republican supporters in Las Vegas Thursday night, attacking American policies and continuing his flirtation with a run for … The Right Approve of Trump's F-Bombs Disagree With Building Schools Conservatives have once again put their family values on full display, by voicing their approval of Donald Trump’s F-bomb laced Las Vegas speech, but opposing building more schools in Brooklyn. Here is the video of Trump’s F-bomb laced … THE INTERSECTION | MADNESS & REALITY: Donald Trump, The “F-Bomb … Let’s be clear: Donald Trump is a major douche. Yes, we know he’s full of shit, and yes we know the only people buying his crap are the mindless idiot fans of the Republican party; yep, because the real Republicans don’t like his ass. … Serious Candidates Don't Drop the F Bomb During Political Speeches … Tags: Donald Trump, f bomb , foreign policy, video. This entry was posted on Friday, April 29th, 2011 at 4:56 pm and is filed under politics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. … Ed Martin: Donald Trump: Presidential Candidate, Trash TV Titan or … NBC · Reality TV · Barack Obama · Donald Trump. Show Twitter blick. MotherJones Today’s most popular #Facebook post: Donald Trump’s F-Bomb Attack, by @AndrewKroll http://mojo.ly/ijjEhh · 57 minutes ago from TweetDeck … RAA_tweet says: Donald Trump, The “F-Bomb”, & The Idiots Who Cheered: Let's be clear: Donald Trump is a major douche. Yes, we k… http://bit.ly/kDkCt2

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My mother made up her  own life

When her mother died, Kate Lloyd discovered that the person she knew was really someone else. She had walked out on her family after the war, changed her name and reinvented her past. But why? My mother painted a sensational portrait of her early life, saying she had been an orphan brought up by a cruel aunt after her mother was killed in a riding accident and her father died of a broken heart. This was high drama and seemingly played out in the context of landed gentry at least, if not the aristocracy. She said they were Irish Catholics, that she and her sisters had gone to a convent school. She certainly played the part, not that she went to church, but she had a rosary and used to go on about the nuns. She told me her father was moved to tears by music, that he took her to hear a Wagner opera when she was much too young, which was why she didn’t like it. At the time I never doubted what she said, even if it verged on melodrama. When I asked her why one of her toes was a bit squashed, she said: “My race horse stepped on me.” The horse had run away with her and ended up in the centre of Cambridge, and she fell off in one of the colleges. Now it all sounds so improbable. Maybe I should have asked why there were no family photographs, or even any relatives on her side of the family. But my father seems to have accepted her account of things and as I grew up there seemed no reason to question her stories. It wasn’t until much later that I started to realise how odd it sounded. I think one of the reasons she carried it off was that she was an incredibly beautiful woman, and a talented portrait painter. So there was no reason to doubt her claim that she had studied at Chelsea School of Art alongside Dirk Bogarde, when Henry Moore was teaching sculpture there. Friends used to refer to her as the duchess because she behaved like one. She told me that I would be presented at court as a debutante, just as she had been. Of course, I believed her. With hindsight, I can see there were inconsistencies, but you couldn’t query anything. She clammed up as soon as you started talking about her family and changed the subject. She died on New Year’s Day 2007, aged 89, but when my brother and I cleared out her flat there was no birth certificate, which made me curious. So I sent off for it. When I opened the envelope, my first thought was that it was the wrong one because the name was Margaret Ada, whereas my mother had been Margo Adela. But her father’s name – Richard John Beasely – and date of birth were both correct. Then the penny began to drop – this was her birth certificate. At some point she must have changed her name to make it sound more refined. But what shocked me even more was seeing that her father was a fishmonger, her mother a housekeeper and they weren’t even married. The rest of the story began to unfold when I went to the public record office. As Mother had often referred to the fact that she was a twin, the clerk said her sister must be on the same page of the register. That was a spooky moment. We found the twin listed, with the name Janet Kathleen. I’m Dinah Kathleen, so I’d been named after her without ever knowing it. I discovered eight other siblings born outside marriage, all, at some time, living in the family home in Kensington, west London. I also discovered cousins in Minneapolis and Australia and, most astonishing of all, my mother’s younger sister Lily, still alive at the age of 91 and living near me. That was another moment, meeting my aunt for the first time. She didn’t hide the fact that she disliked my mother, saying: “Margaret considered herself better than the rest of us.” Disappointingly, Lily was unable to shed any light on what the family thought had happened to Margaret, or how they lost contact. Did she just disappear overnight? Her version has a lack of clarity, simply because of her age, though it’s clear she was glad to see the back of Mother and I can’t imagine she would have tried very hard to get back in touch. There’s a vague suggestion that people thought Margaret had emigrated to America, which probably suited her. But it was something Lily said about her own life that struck a chord with me. She claims to have fallen out with her own daughter 20 years ago, and they haven’t spoken since. That combative, argumentative nature, and the tendency to bear grudges is a recurring family trait, which I recognise because my mother was also prone to it. Maybe it helps to explain the rift. Lily went into service and later may have worked for a photographer. Some of the details of her life are hazy because she’s become a little forgetful. But what emerges from all the marriage and birth certificates I’ve collected is that all the brothers and sisters except Margo went into manual trades and became plumbers and electricians, and so on, whereas Margo managed to gain access to a much higher social echelon and more financial security than she was destined for at birth. Nowadays, Lily lives in a very modest flat whereas, even after 20 years as a widow, Margo lived in some style. She was always perfectly turned out, with the best clothes, shoes and handbags, and looked immaculate. People outside the family regarded her as charming and elegant. My impression is that Lily’s life was less happy. Though I still have a lot of questions about my mother’s life, it’s clear that from an early age she had the ambition to shed the family and its low social status. It’s sort of sad, even chilling, but at the same time you can admire the cleverness with which she did it. It also explains some of her incredibly fierce opinions. She thought having children outside marriage was terrible. She was absolutely scathing to a friend whose child had children without being married. When I was small, our behaviour had to be perfect. Anybody who said, “Pleased to meet you” rather than, “How do you do?” was beyond the pale and absolutely common. Of course, it came as a tremendous shock when Aunt Lily told me that my grandfather was a boozer and womaniser, but maybe it helps to explain Mother’s distaste for her origins. My father was a comfortably-off doctor in Malvern, so marrying him must have provided the social cachet she yearned for. All the more so because the family was quite gentrified, being directly descended from the founder of Lloyds bank. My paternal grandmother was quite a grande dame and highly intellectual, which made her frightening to me, but I can imagine my mother saw her as a role model. Mother was ill with cancer for her last six years, during which we got closer and closer. Once we were reminiscing about my childhood. I said my first memory was her ticking me off when I was about three. I’d been sitting outside the house with bunches of grape hyacinths I’d picked in the garden, trying to sell them to passersby. And she came and sort of snatched me up and said, “Good gracious, you look like a Gypsy!” We were giggling about that, so I asked, “What do you remember of your mother?” And she snapped, “Nothing!” I just left it, and let it hang, and after quite a long silence she said: “Perhaps I don’t want to remember.” Sometimes I wonder if she actually believed the stories that she’d made up because she told them so often that they were real to her. After she died, I discovered she’d been trying to trace her twin sister online. There’s a terrible pathos about that. Realising she was near the end, maybe she regretted cutting herself off from the family and wanted to see her twin again before she died. In fact, Janet had passed away in 1998. I think perhaps Mother succeeded because of the war and the social disruption it caused. And because she was talented and very beautiful. Part of me thinks she was damned clever to live a lie from 1939 and carry it off. You have to have a bit of admiration for that. She would be very cross with me for digging up her past, but I feel cross with her for keeping it secret. Particularly when we were so close at the end. It’s my heritage as well as hers. To discover cousins that might have been lifelong friends if I’d known them earlier felt strange. I suppose part of me was sad that she didn’t talk about it at the end when I gave her the opportunity. And to think that my grandfather was alive during my lifetime – that I could have met him but was never given the chance. Family Parents and parenting guardian.co.uk

Continue reading …
My mother made up her  own life

When her mother died, Kate Lloyd discovered that the person she knew was really someone else. She had walked out on her family after the war, changed her name and reinvented her past. But why? My mother painted a sensational portrait of her early life, saying she had been an orphan brought up by a cruel aunt after her mother was killed in a riding accident and her father died of a broken heart. This was high drama and seemingly played out in the context of landed gentry at least, if not the aristocracy. She said they were Irish Catholics, that she and her sisters had gone to a convent school. She certainly played the part, not that she went to church, but she had a rosary and used to go on about the nuns. She told me her father was moved to tears by music, that he took her to hear a Wagner opera when she was much too young, which was why she didn’t like it. At the time I never doubted what she said, even if it verged on melodrama. When I asked her why one of her toes was a bit squashed, she said: “My race horse stepped on me.” The horse had run away with her and ended up in the centre of Cambridge, and she fell off in one of the colleges. Now it all sounds so improbable. Maybe I should have asked why there were no family photographs, or even any relatives on her side of the family. But my father seems to have accepted her account of things and as I grew up there seemed no reason to question her stories. It wasn’t until much later that I started to realise how odd it sounded. I think one of the reasons she carried it off was that she was an incredibly beautiful woman, and a talented portrait painter. So there was no reason to doubt her claim that she had studied at Chelsea School of Art alongside Dirk Bogarde, when Henry Moore was teaching sculpture there. Friends used to refer to her as the duchess because she behaved like one. She told me that I would be presented at court as a debutante, just as she had been. Of course, I believed her. With hindsight, I can see there were inconsistencies, but you couldn’t query anything. She clammed up as soon as you started talking about her family and changed the subject. She died on New Year’s Day 2007, aged 89, but when my brother and I cleared out her flat there was no birth certificate, which made me curious. So I sent off for it. When I opened the envelope, my first thought was that it was the wrong one because the name was Margaret Ada, whereas my mother had been Margo Adela. But her father’s name – Richard John Beasely – and date of birth were both correct. Then the penny began to drop – this was her birth certificate. At some point she must have changed her name to make it sound more refined. But what shocked me even more was seeing that her father was a fishmonger, her mother a housekeeper and they weren’t even married. The rest of the story began to unfold when I went to the public record office. As Mother had often referred to the fact that she was a twin, the clerk said her sister must be on the same page of the register. That was a spooky moment. We found the twin listed, with the name Janet Kathleen. I’m Dinah Kathleen, so I’d been named after her without ever knowing it. I discovered eight other siblings born outside marriage, all, at some time, living in the family home in Kensington, west London. I also discovered cousins in Minneapolis and Australia and, most astonishing of all, my mother’s younger sister Lily, still alive at the age of 91 and living near me. That was another moment, meeting my aunt for the first time. She didn’t hide the fact that she disliked my mother, saying: “Margaret considered herself better than the rest of us.” Disappointingly, Lily was unable to shed any light on what the family thought had happened to Margaret, or how they lost contact. Did she just disappear overnight? Her version has a lack of clarity, simply because of her age, though it’s clear she was glad to see the back of Mother and I can’t imagine she would have tried very hard to get back in touch. There’s a vague suggestion that people thought Margaret had emigrated to America, which probably suited her. But it was something Lily said about her own life that struck a chord with me. She claims to have fallen out with her own daughter 20 years ago, and they haven’t spoken since. That combative, argumentative nature, and the tendency to bear grudges is a recurring family trait, which I recognise because my mother was also prone to it. Maybe it helps to explain the rift. Lily went into service and later may have worked for a photographer. Some of the details of her life are hazy because she’s become a little forgetful. But what emerges from all the marriage and birth certificates I’ve collected is that all the brothers and sisters except Margo went into manual trades and became plumbers and electricians, and so on, whereas Margo managed to gain access to a much higher social echelon and more financial security than she was destined for at birth. Nowadays, Lily lives in a very modest flat whereas, even after 20 years as a widow, Margo lived in some style. She was always perfectly turned out, with the best clothes, shoes and handbags, and looked immaculate. People outside the family regarded her as charming and elegant. My impression is that Lily’s life was less happy. Though I still have a lot of questions about my mother’s life, it’s clear that from an early age she had the ambition to shed the family and its low social status. It’s sort of sad, even chilling, but at the same time you can admire the cleverness with which she did it. It also explains some of her incredibly fierce opinions. She thought having children outside marriage was terrible. She was absolutely scathing to a friend whose child had children without being married. When I was small, our behaviour had to be perfect. Anybody who said, “Pleased to meet you” rather than, “How do you do?” was beyond the pale and absolutely common. Of course, it came as a tremendous shock when Aunt Lily told me that my grandfather was a boozer and womaniser, but maybe it helps to explain Mother’s distaste for her origins. My father was a comfortably-off doctor in Malvern, so marrying him must have provided the social cachet she yearned for. All the more so because the family was quite gentrified, being directly descended from the founder of Lloyds bank. My paternal grandmother was quite a grande dame and highly intellectual, which made her frightening to me, but I can imagine my mother saw her as a role model. Mother was ill with cancer for her last six years, during which we got closer and closer. Once we were reminiscing about my childhood. I said my first memory was her ticking me off when I was about three. I’d been sitting outside the house with bunches of grape hyacinths I’d picked in the garden, trying to sell them to passersby. And she came and sort of snatched me up and said, “Good gracious, you look like a Gypsy!” We were giggling about that, so I asked, “What do you remember of your mother?” And she snapped, “Nothing!” I just left it, and let it hang, and after quite a long silence she said: “Perhaps I don’t want to remember.” Sometimes I wonder if she actually believed the stories that she’d made up because she told them so often that they were real to her. After she died, I discovered she’d been trying to trace her twin sister online. There’s a terrible pathos about that. Realising she was near the end, maybe she regretted cutting herself off from the family and wanted to see her twin again before she died. In fact, Janet had passed away in 1998. I think perhaps Mother succeeded because of the war and the social disruption it caused. And because she was talented and very beautiful. Part of me thinks she was damned clever to live a lie from 1939 and carry it off. You have to have a bit of admiration for that. She would be very cross with me for digging up her past, but I feel cross with her for keeping it secret. Particularly when we were so close at the end. It’s my heritage as well as hers. To discover cousins that might have been lifelong friends if I’d known them earlier felt strange. I suppose part of me was sad that she didn’t talk about it at the end when I gave her the opportunity. And to think that my grandfather was alive during my lifetime – that I could have met him but was never given the chance. Family Parents and parenting guardian.co.uk

Continue reading …
What odds on bookies’ survival?

Betting shops face a real battle to beat the threat of online gambling and keep their doors open To the consternation of his peers, flamboyant Scottish bookmaker John Banks once famously called them “money factories – a licence to steal money”. But today, Britain’s 8,500 betting shops are shaping up to be the next high-street stalwarts faced with a fundamental reckoning, increasingly under threat from the rapacious spectre of online competition. Other high-street chains have been crushed, in some cases fatally, by the relentless advance of cyber retail juggernauts such as Amazon, Ebay and Play.com. Gone from shopping malls are Zavvi, Woolworths and Borders, while HMV and Waterstone’s remain on the critical list. In the US, Blockbuster has fallen into bankruptcy. Could Britain’s bookies, who on Sunday celebrate 50 years since betting shops were legalised, be next? Gambling is already one of the most profitable industries on the internet. Businesses such as bwin.party and Betfair, fledgling start-ups a decade ago, are now reaching parity with the likes of Ladbrokes and William Hill in terms of stock market valuations. While online firms have been booming, recent years have seen a considerable financial retrenchment among high-street operators. Gala Coral, the firm behind the 1,600-strong Coral chain, last year completed a tortuous debt restructuring which saw its three private-equity backers depart nursing £700m in losses. A year earlier, market leaders Ladbrokes and William Hill — running 2,080 and 2,350 shops respectively — both made cash calls on shareholders in order to bolster their balance sheets. It was a painful business, though it has left Ladbrokes and William Hill in particular far better equipped to fight back against the online competition than once they were, investing heavily in websites of their own, with considerable success. Both have told investors in stark terms, while the shops remain a core business, future earnings growth is most likely to be delivered online. Their main target is to catch up with Bet365, a roaring online success story started by Stoke-based brother and sister John and Denise Coates while working for their father’s small chain of betting shops. The venture, which last year made a pre-tax profit of £100m, has left Peter Coates, the 73-year-old chairman of Stoke City football club, one of the richest men in British bookmaking. Midlands bookmaker Warwick Bartlett, who started his first bookmakers at the age of 18 in 1965, believes the internet has changed everything. “We’re living in an age of iPhones and computers everywhere … If you look at the William Hill website on a Monday or Tuesday, they’ve got prices up there for 450 soccer matches throughout the world, and there’s in-play betting, which means you can bet throughout the game.” Shopping around for the best odds is so much easier online, adds Bartlett, who sold most of his 18 betting shops to Coral in 1984. “The payout to the customer has never been as high as it is today. It is possible now for a gambler, who is in control of his senses and really studies the form, to make gambling pay. In my day you never could,” he said. Fifty years ago on 1 May, the first licensed betting shops opened their doors in Britain, after the politicians at Westminster realised there was little point in continuing to criminalise a pastime that was so widely enjoyed throughout the country. Legislation brought in by Rab Butler overturned the 1853 Suppression of Betting Houses Act. Hard as it is to imagine, for five years their activities went untaxed. These no-frills, smoke-filled establishments were tightly bound by the guiding tenet at the heart of the 1961 act: that bookmakers not be allowed to stimulate demand for betting activity. That meant the windows were boarded up or blacked out, there was to be no advertising, and even the shop’s front door had to remain shut so that passers by might not be enticed by glimpses of goings-on inside. A sign just three-inches tall reading “licensed betting office” was all that was permitted on the shop frontage, together with the bookie’s name. Inside, racing commentary blared out over “the blower” (there were no television feeds until 1986), the prices were chalked up on boards by hand, and winnings were calculated at break-neck speed by an army of quick-witted staff – all of which is automated today. For those caught short, there were no toilets. “The premises will resemble undertakers’ parlours,” Butler said, though some recall the atmosphere in the first betting shops with great affection. Since the 1960s, there has been a steady acceptance of betting shops on the high street as they have come to be viewed affectionately by many as an important element within communities. By degree, bookmakers have been permitted to advertise across all media, live satellite pictures arrived in shops and transformed the atmosphere, and seven-day evening opening was sanctioned. Meanwhile, bookmakers have developed a bewildering array of sporting events and diversions, other than traditional horse and greyhound racing, on which they offer prices: golf, cricket, virtual racing and football are only the most obvious. Graham Sharpe, of William Hill, said: “Millions have been riding on what happens during and after the Royal Wedding, and it is incredible to recall that in 1977 I hit the headlines for turning down bets on the sex of Princess Anne’s baby as we thought there would be adverse criticism for doing so.” Betting shops have shown they can adapt and reinvent themselves. Never more so than in 2001 when, to the fury of the then Labour government, they introduced a new type of slot machine offering virtual roulette – a game until then thought to be legally restricted to casinos. Rules governing betting shop licensing forbade betting on events on the premises, but bookmakers had spotted an opportunity to use internet technology that could ensure the “virtual spin” of the cyber roulette wheel, which took place on a computer server at head office, with the result then beamed back to the terminal. Ultimately ministers’ objections faded: perhaps as they began to see machines as a tax opportunity. Even the state-owned Tote shops, which are about to be privatised, have embraced the roulette revolution. Today terminals offering virtual roulette are so popular that they generate about 40% of takings, considerably more than any other product in a betting shop. In effect, betting shops have become part bookmakers, part high-street casino. Without these terminals, most industry insiders agree, thousands of betting shops would have been pushed out of business in recent years. Whether high-street bookmakers can repeat this kind of coup to keep their prospects rosy remains to be seen. Gambling Sport betting William Hill Ladbrokes Simon Bowers guardian.co.uk

Continue reading …
What odds on bookies’ survival?

Betting shops face a real battle to beat the threat of online gambling and keep their doors open To the consternation of his peers, flamboyant Scottish bookmaker John Banks once famously called them “money factories – a licence to steal money”. But today, Britain’s 8,500 betting shops are shaping up to be the next high-street stalwarts faced with a fundamental reckoning, increasingly under threat from the rapacious spectre of online competition. Other high-street chains have been crushed, in some cases fatally, by the relentless advance of cyber retail juggernauts such as Amazon, Ebay and Play.com. Gone from shopping malls are Zavvi, Woolworths and Borders, while HMV and Waterstone’s remain on the critical list. In the US, Blockbuster has fallen into bankruptcy. Could Britain’s bookies, who on Sunday celebrate 50 years since betting shops were legalised, be next? Gambling is already one of the most profitable industries on the internet. Businesses such as bwin.party and Betfair, fledgling start-ups a decade ago, are now reaching parity with the likes of Ladbrokes and William Hill in terms of stock market valuations. While online firms have been booming, recent years have seen a considerable financial retrenchment among high-street operators. Gala Coral, the firm behind the 1,600-strong Coral chain, last year completed a tortuous debt restructuring which saw its three private-equity backers depart nursing £700m in losses. A year earlier, market leaders Ladbrokes and William Hill — running 2,080 and 2,350 shops respectively — both made cash calls on shareholders in order to bolster their balance sheets. It was a painful business, though it has left Ladbrokes and William Hill in particular far better equipped to fight back against the online competition than once they were, investing heavily in websites of their own, with considerable success. Both have told investors in stark terms, while the shops remain a core business, future earnings growth is most likely to be delivered online. Their main target is to catch up with Bet365, a roaring online success story started by Stoke-based brother and sister John and Denise Coates while working for their father’s small chain of betting shops. The venture, which last year made a pre-tax profit of £100m, has left Peter Coates, the 73-year-old chairman of Stoke City football club, one of the richest men in British bookmaking. Midlands bookmaker Warwick Bartlett, who started his first bookmakers at the age of 18 in 1965, believes the internet has changed everything. “We’re living in an age of iPhones and computers everywhere … If you look at the William Hill website on a Monday or Tuesday, they’ve got prices up there for 450 soccer matches throughout the world, and there’s in-play betting, which means you can bet throughout the game.” Shopping around for the best odds is so much easier online, adds Bartlett, who sold most of his 18 betting shops to Coral in 1984. “The payout to the customer has never been as high as it is today. It is possible now for a gambler, who is in control of his senses and really studies the form, to make gambling pay. In my day you never could,” he said. Fifty years ago on 1 May, the first licensed betting shops opened their doors in Britain, after the politicians at Westminster realised there was little point in continuing to criminalise a pastime that was so widely enjoyed throughout the country. Legislation brought in by Rab Butler overturned the 1853 Suppression of Betting Houses Act. Hard as it is to imagine, for five years their activities went untaxed. These no-frills, smoke-filled establishments were tightly bound by the guiding tenet at the heart of the 1961 act: that bookmakers not be allowed to stimulate demand for betting activity. That meant the windows were boarded up or blacked out, there was to be no advertising, and even the shop’s front door had to remain shut so that passers by might not be enticed by glimpses of goings-on inside. A sign just three-inches tall reading “licensed betting office” was all that was permitted on the shop frontage, together with the bookie’s name. Inside, racing commentary blared out over “the blower” (there were no television feeds until 1986), the prices were chalked up on boards by hand, and winnings were calculated at break-neck speed by an army of quick-witted staff – all of which is automated today. For those caught short, there were no toilets. “The premises will resemble undertakers’ parlours,” Butler said, though some recall the atmosphere in the first betting shops with great affection. Since the 1960s, there has been a steady acceptance of betting shops on the high street as they have come to be viewed affectionately by many as an important element within communities. By degree, bookmakers have been permitted to advertise across all media, live satellite pictures arrived in shops and transformed the atmosphere, and seven-day evening opening was sanctioned. Meanwhile, bookmakers have developed a bewildering array of sporting events and diversions, other than traditional horse and greyhound racing, on which they offer prices: golf, cricket, virtual racing and football are only the most obvious. Graham Sharpe, of William Hill, said: “Millions have been riding on what happens during and after the Royal Wedding, and it is incredible to recall that in 1977 I hit the headlines for turning down bets on the sex of Princess Anne’s baby as we thought there would be adverse criticism for doing so.” Betting shops have shown they can adapt and reinvent themselves. Never more so than in 2001 when, to the fury of the then Labour government, they introduced a new type of slot machine offering virtual roulette – a game until then thought to be legally restricted to casinos. Rules governing betting shop licensing forbade betting on events on the premises, but bookmakers had spotted an opportunity to use internet technology that could ensure the “virtual spin” of the cyber roulette wheel, which took place on a computer server at head office, with the result then beamed back to the terminal. Ultimately ministers’ objections faded: perhaps as they began to see machines as a tax opportunity. Even the state-owned Tote shops, which are about to be privatised, have embraced the roulette revolution. Today terminals offering virtual roulette are so popular that they generate about 40% of takings, considerably more than any other product in a betting shop. In effect, betting shops have become part bookmakers, part high-street casino. Without these terminals, most industry insiders agree, thousands of betting shops would have been pushed out of business in recent years. Whether high-street bookmakers can repeat this kind of coup to keep their prospects rosy remains to be seen. Gambling Sport betting William Hill Ladbrokes Simon Bowers guardian.co.uk

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Markos Moulitsas Tells Kos Kooks That Liberals Shun Their Crazies, Unlike Conservatives

Daily Kos founder Markos Moulitsas was very quick to express delight Wednesday at Barack Obama's birth-certificate release and briefing room outburst against the media.

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Can you feed four for £50 a week?

Sainsbury’s is launching a deal that promises it can be done. We asked three leading food writers if it’s really possible Fiona Beckett: Yes you can Sure you can feed your family for £50 a week, just as you can restrict yourself to 1,200 calories a day if you need to. But it takes willpower, and supermarkets aren’t always the best places to exercise that. Everything – well, practically everything – will have to be pre-planned. You can’t afford to be deflected by impulse buys, though it’s worth keeping, say, a £5 float to take advantage of offers on non-perishable foods like pasta and tinned tuna and for stocking up on basics like herbs and spices (which are cheaper in independent shops than supermarkets). You’ll have to stop pandering to your kids. On this kind of budget you can’t afford to let everyone eat what they like whenever they feel like it. Shared mealtimes are easier to control than 24/7 fridge raiding. Set whatever you don’t need aside for another meal rather than leaving it on the side for scavengers to dip into. Insist that kids ask you when they want a snack rather than just helping themselves. (Frugality, I’m afraid, requires a degree of fascism that doesn’t come easily to today’s laid-back parents.) Forget heavily advertised brands (despite moans from the kids) and buy – or at least try – own label. Discover when your nearest supermarket tends to have reductions. I used to find the one at my local petrol station would virtually give away unsold meat and veg on a Sunday night. The main challenge on a low budget is keeping some variety in your diet. If you build a couple of days round mince (say, a spag bol one night and chilli con carne the next), you could then switch to seafood like frozen prawns, veg and rice for the next two to three days. Forget the idea that every meal has to have expensive lumps of protein – do as our parents and grandparents did, and pad out meals with carbs and puddings. Not all the old wisdom applies though, it has to be said. Veg aren’t always – sadly – cheaper in season. (Frozen berries are almost always cheaper than fresh, for instance.) “Cheap” cuts can be anything but. It can, bizarrely, be more economical to buy steak on special offer than mince, if you stretch it by slicing it thinly. Sometimes ready-made foods like cakes or puds are cheaper than baking them yourself (though in general anything pre-sliced, grated or cubed is a rip-off). And remember that no one shop has all the bargains. You can bet your life that if Sainsbury’s – or any other supermarket – is promoting products to make them look as cheap as chips, they’ll be marking up other lines that will cost you less elsewhere. The old adage that does still apply is “shop around”. Fiona Beckett is author of The Frugal Cook, published by Absolute Press. guardian.co.uk/profile/fionabeckett Simon Majumdar: No you can’t In 1994, Sainsbury’s ran a campaign promising to feed a family of four for less than £50 a week. I had my doubts then, and I have them even more now that the company is offering almost exactly the same deal some 17 years later. The simple fact is, that while it may be feasible to feed a family of four for £50, it is, I believe, almost impossible to do it well for such a lowly sum. One may be able to meet people’s basic nutritional needs, but it will give little variety in the diet and extract all joy from the experience of dining. Some might suggest that, if people are financially stretched, they should be prepared to forgo certain pleasures to make ends meet. However, for me, such a notion is only a short remove from Ebenezer Scrooge’s impassioned cry of “are there no workhouses?” and has no place in this discussion. A £50 a week budget equates to £1.79 per person, per day. This amount is less than is allocated to guests of Her Majesty’s Prisons and only marginally more than is spent on the daily meals of the majority of National Health Service patients. While one doesn’t hear of too many people dying of malnutrition in hospitals and prisons, one also doesn’t hear of too many people clamouring to change places with them when dinner time comes around. It is possible, of course, to wheel out some well-intentioned nutritionist to talk about “wholesome soups” or “hearty bowls of pasta” in defence of the notion that it is possible to eat well, cheaply. However, anyone who has ever spent time subsisting as a student will testify that, while such dishes might do the job of filling a person’s stomach, the regular arrival of bowls of soup or dishes of spaghetti bolognese, night after night, can be enough to drive a person to bloody murder. Such a view also labours under the incorrect assumption that while people may be economically troubled, they can still find the time to seek out cheap, fresh ingredients and labour over a hot stove to make sure that their families receive all they need from their three square meals a day. If there ever was an era when such a thing was true, it is certainly not the case today when both parents are probably holding down jobs to pay the bills. Sainsbury’s latest promotion might seem like one possible solution to the issue. However, to me, it confirms only two things. One, that marketing people are incapable of ever coming up with new ideas. And, more worryingly, if the cost of this basket of food, meant to feed two adults and their offspring, remains the same nearly two decades on, there must be serious concerns about the quality. Whatever one thinks of our supermarkets, few people would ever consider them exemplars of altruism. For food to be sold at this price must mean that corners have been cut, costs have been shaved, and producers have been squeezed. The cynic in me can’t help thinking that all three are probably the case. Accepting this heady combination of uncertain food quality, a lack of variety and little enjoyment, it may well be possible to physically sustain a family of four people on the meagre sum of £50 a week. But, I have to admit, if I was in such a situation, Her Majesty’s Prisons might begin to look pretty appealing. Simon Majumdar is the co-writer of Dos Hermanos, one of the UK’s most widely read food blogs. guardian.co.uk/profile/simon-majumdar Richard Ehrlich: Well, maybe It would certainly be possible to feed a hypothetical family of four on a budget of £50 a week – the big question is whether it would be any fun. Before going any further, I have to add that all bets are off if the household includes teenage boys. The UK Department of Health’s Estimated Average Requirements call for a daily calorie intake of 1,940 calories per day for women and 2,550 for men. Teenage boys seem to need at least 5,000 or they start eating their own fingers. For the rest of us, £12.50 a week is just about do-able. It means avoiding many processed and pre-prepared foods: ready-meals for four can devour your whole daily budget. Favour porridge over boxed breakfast cereals, cheap seasonal veg over fancy salad leaves or sugar snap peas from Kenya, fresh fruit over fruit juice. It also means relying on cheap sources of protein. But remember that you don’t need much protein, far less than most omnivores eat. Try to use meat as a seasoning instead of the main event of the meal: four rashers of top-notch bacon will flavour a whole pot of beans or a pasta sauce. If you sometimes need an identifiable piece of meat on the plate, forget about steaks and chops. Cook stews from cheaper, tougher cuts such as shin of beef or knuckle of pork. Chicken legs are cheaper (and tastier) than breasts, and whole chickens, which can produce four meals for four people at a stretch, are cheaper still. A major cost-cutting option lies open to those who have a big garden or an allotment: grow your own vegetables. Even if you only have space for a few pots, growing herbs can save you a pound or two a week. And a final cost-cutting strategy: don’t assume supermarkets are cheap. When I compared prices on five items at my local Sainsbury’s with the fruit and veg stall across the road, the stall was cheaper on three items, the same on one, and more expensive on one. But the loose carrots at Sainsbury’s (35p/kg, compared with 77p/kg at the stall) were as flexible as garden hoses. Fresh ginger at the stall was £3.30/kg as opposed to £10.72 chez Sainsbury’s. But back to the F-word: will £50 be fun? It can certainly be made less painful by deploying cheap seasonings that deliver maximum pleasure. Bags of spices bought from an Asian shop cost a pound or so and last for many months. A knob of ginger, a fresh chilli, a head of garlic, a lemon – all cost little and can be used with anything. Ultimately, your fun-quotient will be determined by your enthusiasm for inexpensive starchy foods: potatoes, pasta, rice, pulses. Well used, these deliver great flavour at minimal expense. Macaroni cheese, curried lentils, any of numerous dishes combining a lot of rice and a little chicken or lamb – all can be made for as little as 30-50p a head. I know I spend more than £50 a week when there are four of us in the house, probably more like £80. If I had to cut down to £50, I could probably do it. But I love macaroni cheese. Richard Ehrlich’s latest book is ’80 Recipes for Your Pressure Cooker’, published by Kyle Cathie, £12.99. guardian.co.uk/profile/richardehrlich Saving money Consumer affairs Food & drink J Sainsbury Supermarkets Fiona Beckett Simon Majumdar Richard Ehrlich guardian.co.uk

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Easy riders: 10 scenic cycle routes

Go easy on the Lycra and the mileage by choosing one of these 10 great bike rides, taking in sleepy villages, cosy pubs and the best of the English countryside MORTEHOE TO CROYDE, NORTH DEVON 22 miles approx Mortehoe is one of those places where it’s difficult to worry about anything – except, perhaps, where your next ice-cream is coming from. Beginning at the bright-and-breezy Victoria House B&B, you glide down a silky-smooth road with the bay stretching out to infinity on your right. The pedalling soon pays off when you get your first glimpse of the beach: golden sand and small waves foaming excitedly as they race each other to the shore. In the distance you’ll see Baggy Point jutting out to sea; beyond this lies Croyde (and lunch). Cruising through Woolacombe and on along a cliff-top path, you’re soon dropping down into Croyde for an afternoon of stretching out on the sand. For lunch, how about a burger in Blue Groove (01271 890111, blue-groove.co.uk )? Sit on the terrace and gaze out over the water. From here it’s a pootle back through Georgeham and down into Woolacombe, heading back to Mortehoe in your own time. Stop and see Croyde Bay – help yourself to 800m of golden sand. There’s an alleyway beside Billy Budd’s pub leading to the sea Eat, drink, sleep Victoria House (01271 871302, victoriahousebandb.co.uk , doubles from £110) has two smart rooms (dark wood and sumptuous linen) plus a kooky beach house with private terrace overlooking the bay Rent Otter Cycle Hire in Braunton (01271 813339) Head downhill and left from Victoria House, following the coast to Woolacombe. At the first junction (in Woolacombe), turn right and head up Challacombe Hill. Take first right, into Marine Drive car park; follow it along the coast and on to the dirt path, until you emerge on to a road. Take next right, signposted Croyde. Arrive in Croyde, at a junction by the car showroom. Turn left for Georgeham (or straight on for the beach, which is down an alleyway beside Billy Budd’s pub). Cycle through Georgeham, past the Lower House pub, and pass the sign for Pickwell. Ignore the signs for Woolacombe, and take a left fork to descend the steep hill into Woolacombe. Now retrace your steps back to Mortehoe. TETBURY TO SHERSTON, COTSWOLDS 13 miles approx Take any road out of Tetbury and you’ll be cruising along quiet country lanes within five minutes. But if it’s pretty pubs and real ale you’re after, head past the church and freewheel down over Bath Bridge. Coasting along with the summer smell of fresh-cut grass wafting your way, you’ll soon be arriving at the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it village of Shipton Moyne. It’s home to the strangely named Cat and Custard Pot pub, where the ale of choice is Wadworth 6X – brewed down the road in Devizes. On sunny days, you can sit on the wall outside and watch people on horses clip-clop past. Suitably refreshed, pedal onward through Easton Grey (the village that time forgot) and on to Sherston, for a plate of Malmesbury Gold sausages at the 16th-century Rattlebone Inn (01666 840871, therattlebone.co.uk ). Post-lunch, you take a peaceful back road over to Westonbirt Arboretum – which is awash with pink, white and purple blossoms each spring – then on to the nearby Hare and Hounds Hotel (01666 881000, tinyurl.com/43udh7x ), which serves the best lemon drizzle cake in the world (fact!). It’s now just an easy three miles back to Tetbury. Stop and see Westonbirt Arboretum ( forestry.gov.uk/westonbirt ) has scenic walks that thread their way through one of the biggest collections of trees in the world Eat, drink, sleep Delicious local food, lip-smacking beers and well-kept, comfy rooms await at the Priory Inn (01666 502251, theprioryinn.co.uk , doubles from £109) in Tetbury Rent Go-By-Cycle in Somerford Keynes (07970 419208, go-by-cycle.co.uk ) Head left from the Priory Inn and follow the road up into the town. Turn right at the town hall and out past the church. Turn left after a mile or so, signposted Shipton Moyne. Follow the road until you reach the Cat and Custard Pot. A hundred metres past the pub, take the right fork. Take the first left, pass a couple of farms and reach the main road. Turn left, then immediately right, into Easton Grey. Pass through the village and turn right, signposted Sherston. Follow the road for 1.5 miles and turn right at the small grass triangle. Drop downhill and turn right at the Give Way sign, for Sherston. Turn left at the crossroads, pass the Carpenter’s Arms and arrive at the Rattlebone. From the Rattlebone, go back to the crossroads and turn left. Keep going for 2 miles until you reach the main road. Turn right for Westonbirt Arboretum – entrance on your left. Continue along the main road along to the Hare and Hounds. Turn left out of the Hare and Hounds, and left again (away from the main road): signposted Leighterton. Take the first right, signposted Tetbury. Pass Hookshouse Pottery ( hookshousepottery.co.uk ) on your left, after 1.5 miles. Continue past the pottery and keep going until the main road. Turn right (signposted Tetbury) and follow the road past the little church, until you reach a junction. Carry straight on to the Priory Inn, on your right. EAST END TO EAST BOLDRE, HAMPSHIRE 9 miles approx Despite its misleading name, the New Forest is actually pretty ancient. In fact it dates back to 1079, when William the Conqueror fenced the area as his own private hunting ground. Good thing he did, too, as it protected it from future development – creating some gorgeous cycling countryside. Heading right from the East End Arms, the rustic pub owned by Dire Straits bassist John Illsley, you emerge alongside the village “green” – a patch of untamed heathland that thumbs its nose at the neatness of the surrounding cottages. Making a right, you find head-high ferns that drop away to reveal ripe yellow wheat fields petering off into the distance. A few miles later you arrive at Buckler’s Hard, where many of Admiral Nelson’s ships were built in the 1800s. After a nose around the red brick cottages of this open-air-museum-cum-village – and perhaps a boat ride on the Beaulieu river – nip next door for lunch at the Master Builder’s (08448 153399, themasterbuilders.co.uk ). From here it’s a gentle pedal back to East End – via the Turfcutters Arms (01590 612331, the-turfcutters-new-forest.co.uk ) if you’re thirsty. Stop and see Buckler’s Hard maritime museum (bucklershard.co.uk ) Eat, drink, sleep The East End Arms (01590 626223, eastendarms.co.uk , doubles from £98) is a proper country pub with a touch of rock’n’roll. Food is top notch, and there are five upstairs rooms with flat-screen TVs Rent Cyclexperience in Brockenhurst (01590 623407, cyclex.co.uk ) Head right from the East End Arms into East End. Take the first right – on to St Leonards Road. Follow this for about 2.5 miles, passing St Leonards Grange on your left, then take the next right, signposted Buckler’s Hard. Keep going until you see a turning on your right for Buckler’s Hard. From Buckler’s Hard, follow the lane for 1.5 miles then take the second left, signposted East Boldre. Take the first right, signposted East Boldre. Turn left at the next junction, for East End (turn right if you want the Turfcutters Arms). Continue along this road for two miles, reaching East End. ALDBURY TO FRITHSDEN, HERTFORDSHIRE 15 miles approx Two idyllic pubs, pretty parkland and a quiet towpath along the canal … This scenic ride, just a stone’s throw from London, has a bit of everything – including a small vineyard tucked away in a valley ( frithsdenvineyard.co.uk ). Setting off from the Greyhound Inn in Aldbury, you gently climb out of the village and cruise through the scenic Ashridge Estate, before gliding downhill to arrive at the Alford Arms (01442 864480, alfordarmsfrithsden.co.uk ). A sumptuous plate of slow-roasted garlic and rosemary lamb will have you refuelled and raring to go; the post-lunch route takes you through Berkhamsted, where you could stop off for a look round the castle ruins. It’s here that William the Conqueror received word of the English surrender after the Battle of Hastings. From here it’s an easy pedal along the canal. A couple of miles later you peel off and loop back to the Greyhound for another delicious meal. Stop and see Climb to the top of the Bridgewater Monument on the Ashridge Estate ( nationaltrust.org.uk ) for a cracking view out over the Chilterns, and have a cuppa in the cafe Eat, drink, sleep Ensconced in the centre of Aldbury, just up the road from the village pond, the cosy Greyhound Inn (01442 851228, greyhoundaldbury.co.uk , doubles from £75) has eight bedrooms and a fab menu, with dishes such as pea and mint risotto Rent Mountain Mania Cycles in Tring (01442 822458, mountainmaniacycles.co.uk ) Turn right from the Greyhound Inn, then left at the junction by the pond, on to Toms Hill Road. Follow the hill up to the junction at the top: turn left towards Dagnall. Turn right for Ashridge College after nearly two miles. A mile later, turn right again for Ashridge College (by the memorial). Continue through the Ashridge Estate, passing the college and dropping downhill. Take the next left, for Frithsden. Pass the Alford Arms and turn right at the next junction, towards Berkhamsted. At the crossroads, turn right towards Berkhamsted. Take the next left, for Berkhamsted. Follow New Road downhill into Berkhamsted. Go under the railway bridge and turn right on the other side – on to Station Road/Lower Kings Road. Shortly after, there’s a bridge over the canal on your left; take the ramp on to the towpath – keeping the canal on your right. At Dudswell Lane – after about two miles – cross over the bridge and continue on the right-hand side of the canal. At the second bridge (about a mile later), bear right to leave the towpath – and turn right at the road. Follow this back to Aldbury – passing the Valiant Trooper pub. FOULSHAM TO HEYDON, NORFOLK 12 miles approx The shepherd’s hut at Norfolk Courtyard B&B is as rudimentary as you can get while still having a roof over your head. There’s (just) enough space for two, a fold-out table and a tiny wooden shelf bed with a small crate underneath. The latter was formerly a cot for orphaned lambs, but is conveniently sized for a holdall. Heading left from the driveway and out through Foulsham village, you find yourself in a network of tiny lanes that thread their way between the fields. Cruising through Guestwick, you pass a 12th-century church where rabbits dart about between the gravestones, before arriving in Heydon. This is probably the prettiest village in England: a clutch of red-brick cottages gathered around the green – all of them in pristine nick. It’s as if someone stopped the clocks here sometime in the 1700s. Pause at the Earle Arms pub (01263 587376, earlearms.vpweb.co.uk ) for lunch (or elevenses in the tearoom), before looping back to Foulsham via the hamlets of Salle and Wood Dalling. Best of all, there’s not a single hill. Stop and see The Village Teashop at Heydon has lacy tablecloths, Victoria sponges and other chintzy treats ( heydonvillageteashop.co.uk ) Eat, drink, sleep If the shepherd’s hut (£85 a night) at Norfolk Courtyard (01362 683333, norfolkcourtyard.co.uk ) isn’t your bag, how about one of its luxury B&B rooms (doubles from £80) with underfloor heating to keep your toes warm? Rent MPG Leisure in Fakenham (01328 853861, mpgleisure.com ) Head left from Norfolk Courtyard B&B and follow the road to Foulsham. In the village, fork right at Bank House (before the church) on to Reepham Road. Take the first left, on to Guestwick Road. This becomes Foulsham Road; then banks sharp left, becoming Station Road. Shortly after, the road turns hard right, becoming Old School Road. This takes you into Guestwick. Leaving the village, the road bends sharply right – signposted Wood Dalling and Cawston. This becomes Guestwick Road (again) and then Heydon Road, following the sign for Heydon. On Heydon Road take the fourth turning left (dead-end sign) to Heydon village. After Heydon, retrace steps to the crossroads and go straight over. Follow this lane until you reach the gatekeeper’s cottage opposite Salle Park Estate: turn right. Pass through the village and take first right, The Street. Stay on this road to Wood Dalling. At the church turn left on to Church Lane and follow to the end. Bear right on to Guestwick Lane (which becomes Reepham Road), and follow along until you come out opposite Guestwick church. Now turn left (following signs for Foulsham) and simply retrace your steps back. CLIFFORD CHAMBERS TO HIDCOTE GARDENS, WARWICKSHIRE 17 miles Stratford-upon-Avon may be famous for its Shakespearean connection, but the nearby hamlet of Clifford Chambers is allegedly the Bard’s true birthplace. Riding along the (one) street, you pass rows of red-brick cottages with immaculate topiary. Soon you’re peeling off along a bridleway, and pedalling on to Preston-on-Stour, where Nina serves up a mean beef and horseradish sandwich in the village shop. Washing it down with a cuppa in the sun-soaked garden, you probably won’t see a single car drive past. From here you press on to Hidcote Gardens, with its Arts-and-Crafts nooks and crannies. It’s worth nipping along the lane, too, to where thatched cottages encircle a small pond and white ducks snooze on the green. The route back to Clifford Chambers takes you through Ilmington – where the fish and chips at the Howard Arms (01608 682226, howardarms.com ) are to die for. Stop and see Bring a picnic to Hidcote Gardens ( nationaltrust.org ) and shut yourself off for an afternoon of peace and quiet Eat, drink, sleep Cross o’th’ Hill Farm (01789 204738, cross-o-th-hill-farm.com , doubles £94) has three spacious farmhouse rooms with great views Rent Stratford Bike Hire (07711 776340, stratfordbikehire.com ) From Cross o’ th’ Hill Farmcorrect, turn right on to the main road and follow for almost a mile. Then turn left for Clifford Chambers. Head down the street; at gates of big house, ahead, turn right on to bridleway. Follow this along the edge of the fields (left, left, right), emerging on to tarmac at Atherstone-on-Stour. Turn right. Follow road to Preston-on-Stour. Carry on through village, to crossroads: turn right. Turn right at junction after 2 miles. Take the next left. Follow road for 2.5 miles, passing entrance to Kiftsgate Court Gardens; take next left, signposted Hidcote Gardens. From Hidcote, retrace route back to junction opposite Kiftsgate Court Gardens; turn left for Hidcote Boyce. Follow road downhill and take next left, signposted Ilmington. Continue on to Ilmington, passing the Red Lion and the Howard Arms. Carry on out of village, following signs for Stratford. Pass entry sign for Wimpstone village, and turn left at crossroads – signposted Preston-on-Stour. At next junction go straight over, into Preston. Retrace route back through Preston, Atherstone-on-Stour, and across bridleway to Clifford Chambers and Cross o’ th’ Hill Farm. HEBDEN BRIDGE TO TODMORDEN, WEST YORKSHIRE 9 miles approx One of the first questions you ask yourself when you arrive in Hebden Bridge is, “How on earth am I going to get out of here without going uphill?” Tucked away in the Upper Calder Valley, the town is surrounded by steep (and I mean steep) wooded hillsides. But take a closer look, and you’ll find there’s Another Way: the Rochdale Canal. There are swans snoozing on the bank and a narrowboat gliding along silently up ahead. Half a mile later you’re outside the Stubbing Wharf pub, where groups of friends are gathered around tables, chatting in the sunshine – bikes leant against a nearby wall (unlocked). Before long you’re leaving the trappings of town life behind. At certain points, where the towpath sweeps right or left to follow the contours of the valley, you get fleeting glimpses of the moorland that lies beyond. Then, after four miles of hill-free cycling, you arrive in Todmorden and cross the bridge for a long lunch in the Golden Lion (01706 816333). Stop and see Sunshine and ales by the waterside … Be warned: if you stop at the Stubbing Wharf (01422 844107, stubbingwharf.com ) on your way out, you may not get much further Eat, drink, sleep Book into the swish Holme House (01422 847588, holmehousehebdenbridge.co.uk , doubles from £77) for fluffy towels and Gilchrist & Soames products. It’s approximately 17 seconds’ cycle from the canal Rent Blazing Saddles in Hebden Bridge (01422 844435, blazingsaddles.co.uk ) Turn left from Holme House and turn right when you reach canal towpath. Follow towpath for next 4.5 miles, to Todmorden. When you see the Golden Lion pub, on opposite side of canal, leave the path at the next bridge. To get back to Hebden Bridge, just retrace your steps. EAST WITTON TO JERVAULX ABBEY 11 miles approx Walking into the Blue Lion at East Witton is like winding the clock back 200 years. The old stone floors are worn from centuries of shuffling feet and the fireplace stained from countless roaring blazes. The countryside surrounding East Witton has hardly changed since then either. Within minutes you’re pootling over an old stone bridge that’s barely wide enough to fit a car, then on past freshly ploughed fields the colour of cocoa. It’s enough to get you thinking about food – chocolate ice-cream in particular – and a few easy miles later you’ll arrive at High Jervaulx Farm, where 30 flavours are on offer in the cafe. It’s all made fresh, the cream coming from cows chewing away in the nearby fields. On the way back to East Witton, why not stop off at Jervaulx Abbey ruins? They date back to 1156 ( jervaulxabbey.com ), making the Blue Lion look positively new-build. Stop and see Family-run High Jervaulx Farm ( abmoore.co.uk.about.htm ) is a dream come true for ice-cream junkies. Be sure to try the raspberry cheesecake flavour Eat, drink, sleep The Blue Lion (01969 624273, thebluelion.co.uk , doubles from £94) has 12 uniquely styled rooms and excellent food in its atmospheric bar. Rent Dales Mountain Biking in Richmond (01748 884908, dalesmountainbiking.co.uk ) Head right from the Blue Lion, towards Middleham, and follow A6108 out of village. Turn right opposite the Cover Bridge Inn – signposted Spennithorne. Carry on up lane for 1.5 miles to second crossroads: turn right towards Finghall. After three miles, turn right towards Jervaulx. At crossroads, go straight over, towards Jervaulx. At next junction after 1.5 miles, turn right towards Middleham – on to A6108 (for Brymor Ice Cream shop, turn left towards Masham). After half a mile on A6108 towards Middleham, you’ll reach a brown sign for Jervaulx Abbey. The Blue Lion is 1.5 miles further along this road. CONISTON TO LITTLE LANGDALE, CUMBRIA 7.5 miles approx You know you’re in the countryside when you find shed doors left wide open and the owners nowhere to be seen. Mind you, the only likely “intruders” at Yew Tree Farm – home to children’s author Beatrix Potter in the 1930s – would be one of the stray puddle-ducks waddling about the yard. Take the slate path leading from this 300-year-old idyll, and before long you arrive at a babbling brook. From here the landscape gets increasingly dramatic: craggy cliffs rise up on either side to meet dramatic, swirling clouds. Soon even the tarmac can’t hack it any more, reverting to dirt track as you pedal past a disused quarry. But just when it feels like you’ve disappeared off the radar, civilisation springs up across the valley: a wisp of smoke from the chimney at the Three Shires Inn. After sipping the froth off a pint of Old Man Ale, it’s back to Yew Tree Farm for a barbecue on the lawn. Stop and see Tucked away from the Lake District crowds, the Three Shires Inn (01539 437215, threeshiresinn.co.uk ) has been a favourite with thirsty walkers since the 19th century Eat, drink, sleep With stone floors, big comfy beds and Beatrix Potter’s old grandfather clock ticking away in the hall, Yew Tree Farm (01539 441433, yewtree-farm.com , doubles from £104) equals instant relaxation Rent Grizedale Mountain Bikes (01229 860369, grizedalemountainbikes.co.uk ) From the farm, turn left on to bridleway before you reach the road. Follow bridleway until you reach tarmac road by the stream; turn right. Stay on this road for 2 miles, passing the disused quarry, continuing on to woodland track then emerging on to tarmac by a farm. Follow road around left, dropping downhill into valley to reach a ford. Cross ford and follow lane; turn right at next junction, into Little Langdale. Three Shires Inn is just along on your left. From pub, retrace steps route back to ford and cross over. But instead of going back to the road, take first right, following blue cycle-path sign (“37″). Follow this track along edge of wood; after a quarter of a mile you’ll pass a slate slagheap on your right; trail follows edge of this, so do not fork left (which is slightly downhill). Shortly after, you reach another slagheap and climb uphill along slate path; here you join another trail coming from the right. Keep going. Reach a farmyard and go straight through, to rejoin tarmac road at hamlet of High Tilberthwaite. Follow this road through valley, until you reach junction with A593. Before you reaching road, turn left on to path running parallel with it. Path brings you out opposite bridleway by the stream, which you came along earlier. Simply retrace your steps back along it, to Yew Tree Farm. NORTH SUNDERLAND TO BAMBURGH, NORTHUMBERLAND 15 miles approx When you’re curled up on the sofa at St Cuthbert’s House, it’s hard to imagine that a local congregation once gathered here to worship. But when Jill and Jeff Sutheran bought this 200-year-old former Presbyterian church in 1998, they turned it into a snazzy B&B – the perfect base for a relaxed ride. For the first two miles or so you can ease back in the saddle, following the road that wiggles south-west on this circular route. Along the way you’ll pass a disused railway line – built by fishermen in the late 19th century to transport fish from nearby Seahouses to London. Before long you’re outside the Apple Inn at Lucker (01668 213450), where a hand-pulled pint will be yours. Then it’s just a short ride to Bamburgh, where you can stop at the castle for a walk through medieval history, or catch some rays at the beach. When you’ve had enough sea air, you’re only a couple of miles away from that sofa at St Cuthbert’s. Stop and see Bamburgh Castle ( bamburghcastle.com ) was once one of the most powerful places in England Eat, drink, sleep Stay at St Cuthbert’s House (01665 720456, stcuthbertshouse.com , doubles from £90), with six rooms, gourmet breakfasts and in-room massages Rent Boards and Bikes at Swinhoe (07563 040195, boardsandbikes.co.uk ) Head right from St Cuthbert’s House and stay on same road for two miles (following blue cycle route sign). At T-junction, turn right for Newham. About 400 metres later, turn left, signposted Newham. A mile or so later, you reach Newham: turn right towards Lucker. At next junction, turn left towards Warenford. Cross over railway line and turn right at crossroads, towards Lucker. Pass the Apple Inn, and bear right by the memorial, to leave village. At next junction, bear left. Shortly after this, the road bends sharp left – but you go straight on. At next junction, turn right and carry on for another half a mile, crossing railway again – before another junction: turn right towards Bradford. After passing through Bradford, you come to another junction: bear left, on to B1341. Follow this road into Bamburgh, to the castle. From castle, retrace your route, and at the Victoria Hotel turn into Ingram Road. After 2.5 miles turn left, following blue cycle route sign for Seahouses. Stay on this road until reaching T-junction on the edge of North Sunderland: turn right. At the next junction, turn right. St Cuthbert’s House is just along on your right. correct • These routes and 50 others feature in Matt Carroll’s Escape Routes (Punk Publishing, £16.95, escape-routes.co.uk ), a selection of stunning cycle rides around England Cycling holidays Day trips Short breaks Family holidays Devon Gloucestershire New Forest Norfolk Stratford-upon-Avon Lake District guardian.co.uk

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