Like most things in our lives, dinner at the Ace Cafe in London happened in a pretty haphazard way. We were at a bar-b-que on the Gold Coast with our friends Greg and Kerrie Lane (inveterate bike travelers who have ridden all over Europe and the US) to discuss the possibility of a catch up at the Isle of Man for the 2011 Tourist Trophy races when we discovered we would both be in London for a few days in late May.

“Great,” said Kerrie, “we can catch up.”
“We should have dinner,” added Jo.
“What about the Ace Cafe?” Greg continued.
“That'll do,” I said, and sealed the deal.

Two months later, Jo and I rode into the parking lot of the Ace Cafe on the North Circular Road in north-west London. We were a little early, but there were only three other bikes there and the Lane's Triumph ST wasn't one of them. We parked and found a table near the door where we could see people arrive and waited. We were sure they would arrive. If only we got the date and time right....
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The Ace Cafe is a biker's institution. Opened in 1938 on London's newly established ring road, the North West Circular, it was a road house, service station and workshop on one of England's busiest trucking routes. The business thrived and, as it was one of very few places open 24 hours a day, started to attract a younger motorcycle crowd eager for a place to get a hot coffee and food late at night. During WWII, the Ace was completely destroyed by a bomb intended for the nearby railway yards but was rebuilt better than ever and opened for business by 1949. It was in this second existence that the Ace became “the” motorcycle place. Riders gathered and clubs were formed. The Ton-up Boys got their name racing from and back to the Ace at more than 100 miles per hour. A new music from America, rock and roll, got its UK start on the Ace jukebox and many of the iconic bands of the era got their start playing at the Ace. The Cafe Racer, Rockers, and UK bike culture were born.

The rebellious adolescence of rock and roll ended in the mid 1960s as the Beatles and others brought the music to the mainstream. The young heart of Britain moved to Carnaby Street and hip young people grew their hair and read Mao. In 1969 the Ace Cafe closed and the site was turned over to various other commercial uses. It was not, however, forgotten.  The Rockers kept rocking. By the early 1990s a revival movement, led by Mark Wilsmore, started to gather support for a third incarnation of the Ace Cafe and by the end of decade the it was back in business. It has been slow hard work, but today the Ace Cafe is again a focal point for bikers and bike culture. The machines and the music are different of course, but the idea is the same. It is a place where the camaraderie of the motorcycle is the driving, or should I say riding, spirit and if you are not happy with that, then find another cafe.

Jo and I were well aware of this history but as we sat in an almost deserted cafe at 6:00pm looking out at an almost  deserted parking lot it all seemed a little abstract. If we were deflated by the small number of bikes then we didn't have time to worry about it, the Lanes arrived together with another Australian, Chris, and soon other bikes started to pour into the parking lot. Greg adn Kerrie looked in good condition for a couple who had been on the road for eight weeks starting in  Turkey.  By the time we had caught up on the news and finished a dinner of pretty basic cafe fare, the few cars in the parking area had been unceremoniously removed to make way for more bikes and the place was filling up fast. By the time the sun was setting at about 8:00 pm, Greg and I walked to the high ground on the other side of the road and did a rough count of the bikes; about 750 with more arriving every minute. We joined the general throng milling around the parking lot, eating hamburgers, drinking beer, looking at bikes of every type and talking to riders from Hackney or Gloucester or Poland.

About then some of the wild lads on hot bikes started to do some stunts along the public road outside the cafe. The constant heavy traffic didn't seem to bother the riders or the spectators. Sports bike engines wailed with the stunt riders weaving through the traffic while performing wheelies, stoppies, burnouts, doughnuts and power slides. If the drivers were annoyed by being delayed for a couple of riders doing smokey doughnuts in the middle of the road they didn't show it. Then again, with hundreds of leather clad bikers lining the road, it may have been a good time to shut up and show some  patience. The police, I am pleased to say, had the perspicacity to have pressing duties in other parts of London. If only the political puritans back home were as shrewd!

Some of the crowd cheered on the stunt boys but most just continued to do what bikers love to do; look at bikes, talk about bikes, tell stories about rides and just mix with others who understand what it's all about. We stayed on until late before saying good bye to Greg, Kerrie and Chris, confirming our date to meet again on the Isle of Man, and weaving our
way out of the still congested parking lot. During a cautious ride across London to our accommodation we decided it was good that the Ace Cafe had survived as a link to our common history and a rallying point for the passionate heart of  motorcycling.

The early phots of the Ace Cafe came from the Ace Cafe website.  If you want to know more about the Ace and what is on there, the website is place to go. http://www.ace-cafe-london.com