Spent two weeks in clinic staring at the walls, Sunday they gave me a day off so Lady Friend drove me through the edge of the Sonoran desert to a beach town - Keno bay on the sea of Cortez. It was nice and sunny and warm. Had a great day (and night). Took a couple of photos but unfortunately mastering the instructions in spanish how to upload the photos in the correct orientation defeated me. Still, if you move your head you can see them OK. Doctor in the clinic seems happy with my progress, time will tell. At least I´m smiling!

Your correspondant

Lady friend in hotel

Big Cactus Sonoran Desert

A slight change of plan

After a long day of riding I got to a little town in the mountains and stopped to look for a hotel. As I walked across the town plaza there were a couple sitting under a tree, she playing a harp, he playing pan pipes; lovely calming floaty type of music. I squatted down on a rock in the shade of another tree, head down looking at my dusty boots, listened and was carried away....next thing they're playing the Skye boat song " speed bonny boat like a bird on the wing...over the seas to Skye" and I'm sitting there tears rolling down my cheeks. Yeah, this lonely travelling isn't working out how I thought.

Next day I get a text out of the blue from my on-again, off-again lady friend; she's in Mexico, gone there to watch the summer solstice bring the sacred snake down the pyramid at Chichen Itza (but that's a whole other story), anyway, we send a few texts back and forth like why I'm not working, what the hell am I doing in Spain etc and I tell her about the cancer coming back and she says she's got a friend of a friend who works in a clinic where they cure cancer and I'm doubtful and cynical then I think - what the hell, I'm not exactly living the high life down here in Spain.

It took 3 days to ride back up through Spain and France on boring motorways, could have done it quicker but it was raining and I was tired and emotional. Got back to London yesterday, pile of letters waiting including one from my Doctor saying the blood test I had before I left showed my PSA had doubled in 6 weeks Oh shit! So I got on the internet and booked a flight, fly out Tuesday to meet L.F in Cancun; we've got to get up to Hermosillo in Sonora state somehow probably bus up to Mexico city then on from there. I've borrowed some money, probably sell the bikes when I get back home, return ticket in a months time.

Maybe I'll get some photos in the Sonoran desert of flowering cactus blooms, maybe see a whale in the sea of Cortez, maybe even get better in the clinic. If I get to an internet cafe I'll post up photos of whatever I do. See ya!

Enjoy yourself...

..it's later than you think
Enjoy yourself, while you're still in the pink.


With those wise words echoing through my headphones (courtesy Jools Holland & Prince Buster) I  quit my job, bought a used BMW GS and set off to tour Spain. I have to be back in the UK mid-November to start treatment, 'till then I'm aimlessly riding along beautiful deserted twisty roads in bright sunshine, stopping randomly in tiny mountain villages for food and drink and sleeping in whichever town I arrive at exhausted. Seen high mountain roads and deserted sandy beaches; spent quite a lot of lonely evenings thinking sad thoughts only for them to disappear the next day when I get back on the bike. Wish I could ride forever. 

Finally got to use that mesh jacket

Empty roads, stark scenery

Empty beach, Tarifa

See that little road behind? Riding Heaven

Classic cars

Nice style, pity about the waves

A treat on a bad day

I had to go to Manchester today so a man could put his hand up my bottom and fiddle about** (I know some of you will be wondering why I travelled so far when I could have got the same thing done free at my local public conveniences...) which meant a round trip of 400 miles in one day, so I went in my car. Fortunately, the route went through Birmingham, so I treated myself with a visit to the National Motorbike Museum, which I'd intended visiting last Saturday but didn't make.

Well, it was Fantastic! A large modern building, it had five, well-light halls crammed with British motorbikes. Names I hadn't heard of; every British manufacturer from Abingdon and AJS through to Williamson and Wooler (I particularly liked the Wooler Flying Banana); fantastic bikes of all description from early bicycles with engines right up through 30's to 60's plus some modern machines; prototypes; oddities; racing - bikes of every description. It truly is bikers heaven. I thoroughly recommend you to take a trip there wherever you live - it really is that good. I took loads of photos, here's a small selection.

Norton 900 Commando - I want one!

Beautiful Brake

Brough Jewellery

Impressive Broughs

Shapely BSA

Who're you looking at?

Forerunner to Triumphs Rocket3? 1912 Wilkinson 850cc 4-cyl shaft drive with comfy seat

Copperknob - Brooklands racer

The Wooler Flying Banana

Levis?

Beautiful Brough Luggage

Now, that's a Megaphone

Love the names!

OK Supreme

Implies engineering excellence

Not sure why its called a Multi when there's only one cylinder..

Watch out!

My Favourite 

Pretty Triumph prototype

Twin rear wheels - Austin car-engined Brough

**Christies cancer hospital - my prostate cancer has reappeared after apparently going away for seven years - bummer! (unfortunate choice of expletive there).

I took a wrong turn and ended up in biking heaven

As summer has finally made an appearance I thought I'd plan a longer, more interesting trip than my usual local rides. I decided I'd like to visit the national motorcycle museum, on the outskirts of Birmingham. As this is 'up north' to a London lad like myself, I went to the bother of looking at a map. The obvious route for a non-biker would be straight up the M40 motorway, but that would be no fun. As I was studying the map, I noticed quite a few towns and villages to the west of the motorway all had names with hyphens, so I decided to 'ride the hyphens' or more accurately, 'ride-the-hyphens'. So, this morning saw me up early and out on the road, a list of towns and road numbers scribbled down on a piece of paper in my jacket pocket. I headed out west on the A40/M40 then turned off to go through my first town, Henley-on-Thames. Now I must add here that I intended stopping and taking a photo of the Triumph in front of each town sign to prove I'd been there, but there was so much traffic I didn't bother at Henley.

The next town on the list was Stanford-in-the-vale, which I was quite excited about visiting as it had three hyphens; unfortunately, it was about now that the fatal flaw in my plan made itself known - I have a terrible memory, made worse by age, so all my efforts to remember the road numbers or indeed the intervening town names came to naught. I found myself lost and turning into increasingly-narrower and narrower roads somewhere to the west of Oxford. Then I spotted a sign for Woodstock, which made me start singing " by the time we got to Woodstock they were half-a-million strong" etc, and realised I was miles away from my route. I eventually stopped and checked my i-phone satnav and realised I'd already missed Stanford-in-the-vale and Lechlade-on-Thames, but had a fighting chance of finding Shipton-under-Wychwood. I also noticed that all traces of traffic had melted away, and I was now riding down long, sweeping roads with the Triumph feeling nice and steady and the engine finally loosening up, the open silencers making a  particularly spine-tingling sound . A couple of more wrong turns found me riding down a single-track road, when I spotted a sign for a Roman villa. Thinking this would make an interesting diversion, I parked-up and walked down a long lane, only to be confronted by some old stones in the middle of a field - not what I'd anticipated. However, it did give me time to stop, rest and consider my next move.

Remains of Roman villa in a field

2500 year-old mosaic floor

 As Trobairitz often lists items in her blog, I thought I'd steal her idea and list the things I realised in that field:

1. Motorcycle boots do not make good hiking boots
2. Me and the Triumph were never going to get to Birmingham in one day at this rate
3. I didn't actually want to go to Birmingham any more.

Once I'd made that realisation I decide to just enjoy riding these lovely roads, and end up wherever - with the proviso that if I spotted a hyphenated name on a road sign I'd head there; which is how I managed to ride through Shipton-under-Wychwood, again without stopping for a photo. More and more heavenly roads, until I reached Burford, which is one of those picturesque Cotswold villages, all honey-coloured stone, thatched roofs and, on a day like this, a bustling high street with everyone sitting outside the pubs watching the old convertible cars parading up and down. I stopped for a Cream tea in a delightful cafe and enjoyed watching the world go by. I also checked the i-phone again and realised I'd ridden south and west, now with absolutely no chance of getting to that motorcycle museum today.

I wasn't far, however, from Lechlade-on-Thames, so set off in that direction. By the time I got there I realised I was getting tired, plus the only way I'd get any more hyphenated towns was to backtrack up north, so I took an instant decision to head for home. Going back through Marlborough, Newbury and Thatcham the riding was still excellent; I bypassed Reading and picked up the M3 motorway back up to west London, finally got home around 5.30pm. So that was nine hours and 250 miles - and I didn't really go anywhere! As you can see from the lack of photos, I also failed in my attempts to 'collect' hyphenated' town photos. Hmm...must try harder next time.

London Motorcycle Museum

Today I finally got round to visiting the London Motorcycle Museum, tucked away down a side street over in Greenford. Rode the bike through the gridlock that is London during the Olympics and got soaked a couple of times by the sudden downpours that characterise our 'summer'. It's a quaint little place, full of interesting bikes and enthusiastic staff who're happy to spend time explaining the detail of the bikes they have there. What was impressive was the mixture - in the main room were loads of different makes, including some real oddities, while in another building around the back were the Triumphs, including 4 or 5 notable prototypes. Here's some pictures.

Great selection - well packed-in

Norton with Austin 7 car engine

Coolest CD player ever?

Special with automatic mini engine - huge!

Single belt-driven OHC triple Triumph engine

Very sexy