So, after all the meticulous planning achieved with the kind of precision even NASA would be proud of, we are finally on our way. Our journey to Paris in beautiful sunshine, however, was more Fred Carno than Neil Armstrong. Our first stop at Toddington saw Reidy's lady box tank bag detach itself from his bike bouncing all his valuables down the M1 sliproad. On arrival in France we did what we do best... we got lost within two miles of leaving the tunnel and were delighted to experience the backstreets of Calais together with a road more resembling a cattle track. After this unintended delay we decided to take the motorway to Paris but neglected to remember that petrol stations are few and far between on the peage roads. The BMWs were running on fresh air when we rolled in to the first Shell station we came across. Andy's Ducati unfortunately had rolled only to the side of the road some 30 miles back when his tank ran dry. In the true spirit of 'all for one and one for all' we left him there until guilt finally took over and Tony, after drawing the short straw, took him a can of juice.
A night out saw an interesting conversation with a German naturist couple and extortionately priced beer. We'll never moan about your prices again Terry.
Sore heads abound on Sunday morning... Le Mans today. Catch y'all later
A night out saw an interesting conversation with a German naturist couple and extortionately priced beer. We'll never moan about your prices again Terry.
Never mind lady box tank bag, looks like a bit of a lady boy leaning against that lamp post! The tank box detachment was just another lame excuse to hold up proceedings, the surrender monkey doesn't want to go!! xxx
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