I WAS six hours into a bike ride with Jristos. It felt like my legs were about to drop off.

“Come on.”

“But I really don’t think I can go any further...”

“Oh, you are such a complainer.”

“Honestly, Jristos, I can’t feel my feet. I think I’m dying.”

“Save it until we get to the pub.”

When we finally pulled into The Mill Inn at Conder Green, I was so relieved I nearly came off my bike.

We hobbled over to a picnic bench in the sunshine and I propped my hefty 12-year-old mountain bike up against the table.

Although I was saddle sore the restaurant menu pepped me right up.

I ordered a special from their blackboard – pan-fried Fleetwood plaice with a shrimp and parsley butter, on top of sliced new potatoes and fresh green beans.

My friend opted for gammon and chips. Both were really nice.

We sat outside in the last of the season’s sunshine, enjoying Pimms and lemonade in the smart venue’s beer garden.

The posh pub is a stone’s throw from Lancaster’s picturesque canal.

Both meals, though quite different, were good quality and, as much as it pained me to admit it to Jristos, it was well worth the trek.

Portions were generous and both the dishes and the venue were exceptionally well presented. Meals and drinks came to £30.

Staff were pleasant and the dining room inside felt airy and sophisticated – it would be a great place to impress even in mid-winter. By the time we took off again the last of the day’s sun was setting.

The Mill experience had put me back on track and I powered back home with a smile on my face.

This time it was Jristos’ turn to drag his heels – he had a stitch. Amateur.