Prologue

A note from my wife reads

make sure you turn up or your father will read the speech and get a bit tearful

make sure Jonathan eats enough

write a wedding speech , but no Knob jokes

what could possibly go wrong ?

two maps are given to me thus, being simple she know not to challenge me too much or to give me too many choices

Map one, where to go in Italy, she informs me that its to the right and a bit below France, after first crossing the channel

( even I cant cock that bit up can I ?

Map two, how to find your way around if you ever manage to get there ???

Thus far my involvement with said wedding extends as far as,

A being there on time

B giving the speech

C being good and not saying a big rude word all week

( the last one being the acid test for me)

everything else as far as my travel, accommodation, food, transport, on the journey is left to me ( fatal)

All the arrangements for the Wedding were carried out by my daughter, that way nothing can go wrong, ie if I am not involved no weird stuff will happen

sample of odd things that occur in things I am involved in or responsible for, or blamed for.

Drag Queens walking in and causing confusion , Mental animals joining the party and puking on an important guest , arriving on the wrong day, a week earlier is normal for me , dead people on trestles, who I attempt to converse with whilst inebriated , speaking my best Italian, only to find the other person is Irish and thinks I am Welsh !!

massive arguments with large tattooed birds who are spoiling for a fight

Attending a funeral service and reception for somebody I have never met and who I am not related to and doing the reading ! , attending the wrong wedding , saying stupid things at funerals and on and on .its a family trait that one of us inherits every other generation

you see in life I walk into odd scenarios, or misread situations, or turn up at the wrong time or wrong place, ergo my total lack of involvement with her big day !

If you were cruel you might say they were hoping that I would die on the journey or not arrive ! To save them all embarrassment

So the plan such as it is ,begins to form up, yes I have a plan, I write it all down and check with the wife, and I supply a list of locations we plan to visit to the googler, to input into his electronic compass, he having the use of a massive Cray CDC 6600 supercomputer will calculate our best and most scenic route, so saving me lots of time map reading ( I take maps anyway)

I drop my little Moto Guzzi off to Tony Botto at Didcot and the Googler drives me home

Tony does his usual sterling work and services the heap along with new high pressure fuel lines, rubber drain pipes and breather pipes, and strips the forks and head bearings and fixes the side-stand that I bent along with a few other things I buggered on the last journey/off road session

result a sweet little Breva ( known as a learners bike, a girls bike, or a commuter, by Journos who don't have to buy their own bike ! so ideal for me )

I managed to organise myself and arrange a few days off beforehand to pack the bike, tickets sorted with DFDS Dover to Dunkirk ( our favourite) we were going to travel to Caen from a port nearer to home ( Gloucestershire) but the ferry company wanted more than the bike was worth the rotters.

The googler arrives on the Friday at my gaffe , we make sure he has the correct riding gear ( his own) plus additional gear in case of cold weather and rain

I fit the charger socket for his phone, and clean my visor and pack some tools along with oil and maps, and camera ,

my Whistle and Flute purchased under the steely eye of daughter No 1 travels with the Girls ??? ,why ? , because according to my wife I would either lose it or give it to a tramp.