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| Back roads of Suffolk |
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| Border country - Norfolk on the left bank, Suffolk on the right |
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| Dustbin day at the church |
The 210 mile run started at 6.30pm and I arrived at 9.30pm. Travelling in the UK can be quick and easy, you just have to be careful in choosing the time you travel and not be too greedy for speed on the roads so as to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Averaging 70mph on a 3 hr hop, with one quick fuel stop, is bloody good for this country. After viewing a house I headed to the south coast, another 150 or so miles. Not quite so quick, as I had to travel during the day, cross the Thames on the Dartford Bridge (bikers don't pay, thanks to MAG campaigning) and then run the gauntlet of the M25, at times arguably the worlds largest car park. I hate motorways and so came off on the A3 only to find that the new Hindhead tunnel, which I heard was officially opened a few weeks ago, wasn't actually open at all although a member of the Royal Family had in fact `opened` it. Well some bugger had re-closed it after they left.
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| It's a fake! |
I crawled through some lovely Surrey countryside but by now I had a need to work some feeling back into my gluteus maximus. Against my principles, I stopped at a McDonalds near Petersfield. I just had a coffee and ate a Crunchie. I sat there watching young mums with that `thousand yard stare`, slumped at various tables, their heads propped up by an arm, as their junior citizens-in-training sort of ran amock, creating a havoc for all the other customers that mum seemed either oblivious or indifferent to. I heeded the McDonalds handy warning that my coffee was hot and braced myself against the mayhem until it was cool enough to drink. Then I was out of that hell hole of hyperactive, indisciplined kids and off down the road, thinking that the brats should have been in the bloody burgers. Shit, am I turning into a Nazi?
I spent 4 days at my son's pad, kindly offered to me whilst he and his gal enjoyed a week on a Greek Island. I had a good time catching up with my daughter and the two grandchildren. It was great meeting the grandson from his morning at pre-school. It was even better when he asked me to meet him the next day, without his mum! I was honoured. Catching up with an old friend, eating fish and chips with him in his caravan and watching "Longitude" on dvd whilst enjoying a Bishops Finger (no Papist jokes please, it's a great English beer) was wonderful.
And so home on Sunday. Thanks to the British Grand Prix at Silverstone, I was diverted through some delightful Northamptonshire villages, some I'd never seen before and some where I used to play the local schools at football during my childhood. It reduced my average speed but improved my state of mind, an excellent trade-off.
Whilst I was away, I couldn't watch news bulletins because they had all been hi-jacked by something called the `News of the World`, a paper that I wouldn't even use to pick up a dog turd. If that's all the world has to offer in the way of `news`, then I was clearly better off on my bike.
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