"Hello Copenhagen...

...this is London calling."

Now for the explanation of the above...

"hello 'x', this is 'y' calling" - The traditional phrase from Eurovision countries when giving the result of their tele-vote.

Copenhagen was the host of the first Eurovision contest, and in homage to this the Bosnia & Herzegovina entry for 2005, the 50th anniversary of the contest, featured a brief clip of the phrase "hello Copenhagen". Their song is called Call Me, and is a beautifully cheesy pop song, worryingly catchy. It has caught me anyway, and was in my head for much of the long, sunny, unicycle ride from Bath to Hounslow yesterday.

Yes, that's 100 miles of unicycling, and a beautiful thing it was too. Well, most of it. The A4, I was assured, is horrible. Narrow, fast and ugly. Certainly not worth a long cycle ride along.

Not so. From 5:30am yesterday I learnt it to be, in the most part, wide and beautiful, and despite it being a Monday in regular business time. It was far from overcrowded. The scenery was wonderful too, with green fields rolling off into the distance.

The sun shone down, my feet span round and around and around... the miles sped past.

Until Slough.

If you are ever approached by someone offering you a pleasant cycling trip to or through or near or even rhyming with Slough, never trust that person again. They are lying. It is a conglomerate labyrinth of botched cycle paths and pedestrian/cycle crossings, and using them is more effective for off-road practice than for anything else. Metal barriers like cobwebs hung around every corner, and across many otherwise useful spaces. Trees are things that were lost in the fumes of over-managed traffic layouts. Concrete competes with frowning chavs and pretentiously modified cars for being the most displeasing factor.

Usually people smile at unicyclists. It's just part of the human condition. They are slightly eccentric, especially when they wear helmets and luminous things and ride on the roads as if they belong there as much as any other 'roadie' slick-tyred cyclist. People wave, toot their horns and smile, even from Fire Engines and Police escorts.

Not in Slough. No, there they frown, keep their eyes down and mutter. You're not Amusing, you're not even Silly, you're just Different. And that's Wrong.

There isn't even a satisfying 'You are now leaving Slough' sign to speed you on your way back to the delightful land of sunshine and happiness that you remembered before you entered Slough. It just has concretey dual-carriageways which make the residue of Slough which clings to any area of your exposed flesh be coated over with the fresh sediment of solidifying expulsions from passing aircraft.

Heathrow, with its intestine profusion of multi-lane traffic motions. Its population of Suits, chauffeur driven Mercedes and BMW cars and shiny hotels. Its moral-sapping effect on an innocent unicyclist who has already done 95 miles and is sure that it is about time to stop. Who is sure that, according to his memory of the map, a Tube station should materialise on the left at any time.

Alas, many more miles, many false expectations caused by bus stops with the round logo with a line through it. But no Tube station.

Eventually, and after many mistaken excursions though Hounslow, I am advised correctly in the direction of the Tube station, and am welcomed by its static but assuredly solid and real existence.

With legs doing their best "we're bound to be cast into a bronze statue one day so we'd better start practicing what it feels like now" routine, I flop into a seat on the Piccadilly line train, and thence to Hither Green, Catford, and the Twort residence.

So a new personal record for longest ride in a day - my cycle-computer dooberie showing 103 miles, and an average rolling speed of around 11.5mph.

And today was a most excellent day of wandering around the capital in shorts, loose shirt, floppy hat and camera around neck ("tourist..? where..? how quaint, must take a photo of me next to one of those..."), taking in the sights with Poppy and Maria.

Most Excellent, indeed.