1st June

Yesterday: 

The Lexmoto guys weren’t satisfied with the sound quality on their recordings of some of my ramblings yesterday. Or maybe the task of editing out my verbosity proved just too daunting. So we did some of it again inside their premises. Hopefully I was a bit more concise this time. Apparently Motor Cycle News might run my story, but only if I actually reach Cape Town. 

One anxiety I have had for a while is possibly encountering a problem with the electronic unit that controls the bike’s fuel injection (the ECU - like a small computer). One failed on a previous bike of mine. The little local bikes in Africa almost all have carburettors - basic and easy to fix - so I guess ECUs are nearly impossible to find there. There is currently a severe shortage of silicone chips in the automotive sector and so neither I, nor the bike dealer in Stockwell, nor Lexmoto themselves had so far been able to find a spare ECU in the UK either. So my heart lifted when on my arrival at the Lexmoto offices Mark solemnly presented me with a small black box with multi-pin connectors - to me a rare and precious gift. 

Filming done. Manly handclasps all round, and I was on my way with their good wishes ringing in my ears. 

A nice ride down to Plymouth - still cold though. Followed by a very sociable time with maybe two hundred bikers in the queue to board the ferry to Santander. My little bike is very distinctive  amongst all the big cruisers, tourers, enduros and adventure bikes, so several of them recognised it from when they had overtaken me on the way down. 

As the helmets came off and the white hair, wrinkles and bald pates were revealed it was apparent that almost none of us was under 50. A very few under 60. And not many under 70. At 72 it’s not impossible that I was less than the average age. No exaggeration. Committed bikers are generally not as most of us might imagine. And they are probably more affluent than we might imagine too - there were some splendid (and expensive) bikes on display. And watches. 

Interesting chats in the ship’s bar. People (not just men) from all the well-known biking regions in the UK. All with entertaining travellers’ tales. It’s nice to feel part of a community. 

The crossing was perfectly calm, and I enjoyed a beautiful sunset from the ship’s piano bar in the congenial company of some “lads” from Bristol and surroundings. Bikers, all but one of them in their late 70s. They are riding Harley-Davidsons - with 72 cubic inch engines. That’s about 10 times the size of mine.