As I sit here, waiting for my molten-hot Turkish coffee to cool to a temperature that won't induce third degree burns, I'm watching my teenage years ride past. More accurately, it's the smell of the passing two-wheeled scenery in the fluorescent lights from the restaurants that's most evocative. Mingled with the coffee and the heavy... Continue Reading →
Talking Turkey with a Vespa.
It's 30 degrees in the shade here in Turkey, and they don't ride in leathers. They don't ride much in the way of big bikes either. The largest I've seen has been a lone R1200GS. The rest? Much, much smaller. 125 is the norm, with everything from obscure Chinese reverse-engineered CG125s to the occasional Jawa.... Continue Reading →
RAF Kelmscott and summer silence.
The airless reception area with its cheerful, exhortative corporate posters made me think of communist Russia. Dark wood. Grey, worn carpet. Grey fluorescent lights. Every so often, there would be a sharp, electronic bleep and the door would get pushed open. A grey-suited figure would scuttle past and the door, on its spring, would creak... Continue Reading →
The kindness of strangers
The GS has been playing up for a while. Matt and Stuart at North Oxford Garage have been fantastic - and patient - trying to diagnose an intermittent but vicious electrical problem where the bike simply refuses to start. It’ll crank - for hours - but won’t fire. It’s been back three times in all,... Continue Reading →
Spring.
You can tell it's spring. All the little parking gaps in Stow that are empty in the winter now host Solvol-gleamed motorcycles. The creak of leathers is almost audible as sportsbike riders mix it with the righteous Harley brethren in the mean streets and tea shops. Today, I headed up to Stow, as ever, through... Continue Reading →
Hanging up your helmet
The days are, finally, lengthening. That seemed as good an excuse as any to drag the Ural from under its cover and clack-zag though the staggered web of lanes to Bibury. At this time of year the coach loads of travel-myopic, Bath-Stonehenge-Bibury-Shakespeare n' Stratford-inna-day tourists are still tucked up and posting acid on TripAdvisor. Instead,... Continue Reading →
Balance. On a combo.
Today was the sort of bone-cold day that aches by the time you've ridden five miles. But so what? I was out on the Ural, not (as I have far too often been lately) stabbing with increasing irritability at my laptop keyboard in the office, fretting about clients, deadlines, the state of the nation. It... Continue Reading →
Lighten our darkness.
Ever since my first evensong as a chorister, aged 6, I've loved the words of the third collect: Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee O Lord; and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night; for the love of thy only Son our Saviour Jesus Christ. As I'm sat,... Continue Reading →
Summer Uralling
Today appears to be summer - so time to get out in the lanes of West Oxfordshire and do a bit of Uralling with a fellow Uralist down from The Wirral for the weekend.
“Council said ‘no’. Village said ‘yes’.”
Last night was the last Monday in June. To anyone on two wheels that means one thing - Cassington. If you have any motorcycling soul, you'll be there to inhale deep of two-stroke oil, 20w50, petrol and the aromatic scent of warm, well-ridden old bikes. If you have any charitable soul, you'll drop a few... Continue Reading →