Bikes, bacon butties and, er, an Enfield

The Urinal needed fuel this morning. I don’t like to run her below 150km to a tank just to give me a bit of margin. So, as ever, it’s an excuse to take the longer route to the office. That’s a splendid, winding road across the flats of West Oxfordshire up to Faringdon. The garage isn’t really on the way to work, but I can kid myself it is.

So, I head out through Clanfield and past the Clanfield Tavern, through Radcot and up the hill to Faringdon. Then fill. Then brave the “traffic-calmed” hell that is the Lechlade Road out of Faringdon. The local council are clearly preparing for an invasion. They’ve strewn the road with tank-traps that rattle the Urinal’s sidecar, half snap my neck and create lots of lovely noise for the residents. Continue reading