Showing posts with label Bad Weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bad Weather. Show all posts

Saturday, 23 November 2013

It's another long one... but you still love us don't you?


Thursday 21st November

Both Carol and I are exhausted and we both retired to bed early last night at just before ten. I awoke at five in a lot of pain in my shoulder again and had to take some pain killers which took about half an hour to work and I was able to fall back to sleep. Carol woke at six, wandered about for a few minutes before returning to bed and falling asleep again.

When I woke up at nine, I did for the first time in ages feel well rested even though my shoulder still hurts. Carol though is still snoring away quite peacefully.

We are on a countdown now though, it is seven days until we fly home and to be honest I am ready to do so, if we could leave tomorrow I think that I would take the offer because I am starting to feel the distance between us and home. The simple pleasures of relaxing in a bath, cuddling my boy Jasper and seeing the two young people who share our home. Last night I had many strange dreams and when I was not dreaming of night clubs filled with exotic people from all over the universe, I was dreaming of home, dreaming of my Lego sets, dreaming of my bed and my home comforts. Back home winter is setting in, cold days and colder nights. Frost on the grass, ice in the shaded corners and as I sit here in the morning heat that is already above twenty degrees, I crave the cold, I crave not running with sweat with every foot step, I crave not being exhausted by a walk across the bay due to the heat of the sun. Most of all though I crave home and the company of the two special young people who are there. 

There are things about Thailand that I will miss, I would love to ride my bike here along some of the roads that pass through the hills and valleys of the rain forest. Swimming in the sea here is something I enjoy and not dislike intently like I do at home. The people here have a relaxed attitude to life that people in the UK do not and most of all I will miss the lack of a Nanny state telling me to do things or not to do things because I am considered too stupid to be able to keep myself safe. 

Back in the uk, I hate the attitude that the state has about making the decisions for the lowest level of inteiligence. For example have you considered the metal railings around corners that stop us crossing the road where we wish? Sometimes that can stretch so far that you have to walk quite a distance out of your way just to cross a road and walk back down again. At the moment in the UK and across Europe they are trying to introduce laws that will "make motorcycling safer", these laws have restricted Carol's son to a small capacity bike for the next two years despite his passing his motorcycle test. In some EU countries they want us to wear reflective jackets so that car drivers can see us because most car drivers do not look in their mirrors. I know this since I was hit by a car in Bristol a little while ago. 

Here in Thailand we have seen families climb aboard scooters helmet free. Helmets are available here and many people choose to use one. In the time I have been here, I have not seen a single accident, nor have I seen a single act of road rage. Something in our culture back home is broken, with the Government taking away our freedoms under the guise of making us safer I have fears for the future. The UK is turning into a Police state as more and more cameras are put on motorways and in town centres, all to keep us safe. Drivers in fits of rage will get out of their vehicles and attack other drivers. There is aggression everywhere as the media rallies suport for the far right as they pour scorn on the unemployed, the disabled and the foreign traveller fleeing from brutal regimes back home. Our Government also has this agenda, I read somewhere once a quote that said "The people should not be afraid of their Government, rather the Government should be afraid of the people." 

I will admit that I am afraid of what my future holds at the hands of this Government. Yet the choices that we have are so limited in our votes. We can choose the leftish right, the centre right or the far right. Being left is considered bad by many and liberal is used as an insult. I am a liberal, I believe in liberty and support for the people. I believe in the NHS and education for all. I do not believe in a Police state with cameras every where and greater powers of control for those in Governance. So yes, I will miss Thailand when I return home, where we are now I have not seen any Police, yet I have seen great poverty. There must be some middle ground somewhere, a balance between the Poverty and the Police state surely? Yet Poverty is now a threat in the UK too, with people having to choose between food and heating through out the winter. 

There is something very wrong with society and although I can see the faults, I do not know how to fix them. Maybe I am a Marxist after all, although I have often referred to myself as a anarcho-libralist.  The part of me that wants to return home is equally balanced with the part of me that hates the limits to my freedom. Funny how a small holiday can have such a large impact, I am still not eating the curry though.

Today we spent some time resting and then went for a walk to the Golden Buddha to steal some internet while we had a cuppa, however once we got there we saw what they were serving for dinner today and so stuck around for a bit longer than we planned just so that we could have a lovely dinner, especially after yesterdays Pizza on the beach. 

Annoyingly both Carol and I seem to have a bit of a dicky tummy, nothing serious and no other symptoms than a sudden need to have a shit. During yesterdays bike rides I had to keep coming back to base to empty my bowels and today Carol faced a similar thing. For me I am fairly used to it and put it down to my medication as usual, however for Carol to have it too something does feel a little strange and I would hate for our last week to be spent being ill. 

So once we had updated the blog and nearly crashed their server waiting for facebook to open so that we could try to upload a picture (which we could not do in the end due to a poor connection) we put asside the crappy little chromebook and ordered dinner. Carol ordered a curry (brave given we now know what they put in it!) and I ordered spare ribs in sauce. When the food arrived, we would have been hard pushed to say who had the best meal. My spare ribs were huge chunks of meat dripping in sauce and Carol's curry smelled and looked lovely. To be honest, the portion of spare ribs was not enough, not to say it was a small portion, it was just so nice that I could have eaten another four plates worth just to enjoy the flavour. It was the sort of meal where your tongue orgasms, where you regret having only one tongue and where as you put the last morsel in your mouth, you can't help but grieve a little. As I type this now I am salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs!

The walk back to the hut was not with out incident, poor Carol suffered another agonising stomach cramp and was forced to dig a hole on the beach and void herself into said hole while I stood by offering support and kind words. When she finds out that I am telling you this, I am sure that she will kill me, but you have a right to know the truth. 

Once back home we played a game of who needs the loo first and Carol won and then had another invigorating ice cold shower. Meanwhile I wandered off down to the bar to make sure that Chui kept the lights on, there was no need for us to worry though because he was getting increasingly merry with the British guy from the dive school. Sadly for him, his work load for the week has just been cancelled because there is supposed to be a storm coming in. Chui however says that this is rubbish and it is just going to be a bit of wet weather and the dive school are being pansies. His arguement goes on that given that he has lived here for all of his life, he has more local knowledge that the tourists who run the school. The Dive master has said that there is a typhoon blowing in and it is going to put all of the fishing boats into port for at least a few days. Well, over the next few days we shall see who is right.

Anyway, as I did my nails and listened to the two men talk and get increasingly more drunk it became apparent that Chui himself is rather lonely on his desert island paradise and does infact have a wife and kids somewhere else, but they don't like it here because there is no power or internet (I can kind of see where they are coming from to be honest). Yet with the number of women who come to his resort, one of them must he argues find him attractive and want to stay with him because he is such a good catch with many techniques of... sadly I lost the translation at this point but it was either dancing or press ups.

Back at the hut all was quiet and Carol and I settled down for the night and once again I am left awake writing as she starts to gently snore. Curse my sick and ruined mind, make me sleepy at bed time, not lunch time you bastard! Oh well, it as you all know just part of the Curious Adventure.

Friday 22nd November

It is four AM and I have just woken up feeling rather unwell. I am also covered in fresh bites, some of which hurt and this is despite our bed being covered in a mosquito net. I appear to be a Mosquito restaraunt, I can imagine the slogan "Eat at Jayne's, the blood is good and the skin is pale and thin!" Mosquitoes are I have decided, bastards! I am going to try and get some more sleep and stop sulking, our friend Rich calls me a SAAB 900 Turbo when I sulk. I fear that if I continue sulking here, a mosquito will bite me on the lip and with the swelling it would cause, I will resemble John Merrik! 

Strangely I am now actually looking forwards to getting to Bangkok. I am ready to go home now having had the holiday of a life time. I miss my friends, I miss the kids and I miss my cat. We have only a few days to go here on this island paradise and yet with the promise of bad weather for the next few days, part of me feels like I am home already!

Ah, 8:30 AM and things seem to have settled down in the tummy and I have loved aspects of this place because it truly is the island paradise that we were looking for. The place is covered with beautiful Hermit crabs that wander about doing Hermait crab business. There are also the little beach crabs here that are just hilarious, watching them run sideways is one of natures comic moments, you cannot help but smile as they sprint away in a large arc only to get swallowed up by a wave from the ocean. With the current bad weather the waves are something spectacular, big tubes of water crashing onto the beach. Even a land lubber like me can feel the pull of the ocean and the urge to go surfing. I have never surfed in my life, but I imagine it is easy. After all it is just standing on a slipperly fibre glass board, propelled by the sea towards to the rocky coast. What could go wrong?

Well it has not stopped raining all day so far and it is two PM, we have tidied the hut and I have started packing stuff ready for the flight home and have managed to get Carol's leathers and my new stuff into my main bag. With the stuff I am junking because it is no longer needed I will be with in my weight limit. As for the rest of today I am very bored. Our options are so limited, with no power we can not really keep the Crapbook on for very long due to needing to keep some power in the battery so that we do not have to turn the fucking off. Once it is off we cannot log back into it, which is pathetic. Good job Google, make a device that is only any use at home and in places with wifi. OK, we sort of knew that it was basic, but when we were reassured that we could use it with out a net connection we did think that it had some benefit and we could live with out net brousing. Anyway enough moaning about the Crapbook.

I have done some writing today but I am struggling to find focus and cannot get more than a introductiuon written before I lose interest. Obviously if I had my net connection I could put this in my writing blog, but on this island we do not even have power during the day. We also have not yet eaten anything and are considering what our options are for today. What ever we do, it requires a bit of walking and I am suffering with pain today and walking is the last thing I want to do. If I were at home today I would be resting, exercising my mind somehow be it Scrabble or Lego or maybe even reading. I have asked Carol if she wants to go to the bar to play cards but that interests her about as much as having her toe nails pulled out. 

Despite the rain here, it is still hot and sticky which is quite horrible, where ever I go I am wet and fed up with it. Carol and I are both a little disappointed with this place, it has so much potential, but with no shop selling even the most basic things, motorbike hire that is laughable and not even a safe restaraunt, Chui has failed to keep up with the times which is sad. When I was talking to him last night he said he does not want the internet because he gets busines through word of mouth. Yet with the internet generation we are spreading the word all over the world and things get read about his site and this puts people off before they even meet him, which is a shame. I have one major question though, if they can run a power line from the hydroelectric dam in the rain forest to Myanama, why can they not get power across three hundred metres of river? Is it really so hard? With a power line could come a phone line and with a phone line could come the internet and then Chui could skype his beloved family that he misses so much, a family who tell him that his site is too basic. The twenty first century has arrived and the dinosaurs who want nothing to do with it will eventually die out. 

As if to make a point this evening, Mr Chui turned off the power to the site at five to eight in the evening. It had been on for slightly less than two hours when he pulled the plug. I am now fed up being in this stupid place, it is sub standard, the food is unsafe and the huts are generally in poor condition with rotten bamboo struts in places. What can we say when it comes to the review on line? Only what we have seen here and we are becoming more and more unimpressed. 

Carol and I have both stated today that we are looking forwards to getting back to Bangkok, what a shame because we were both looking forwards to coming here and it has been a disappointment. We discovered today that the mattress that we are sleeping on is rotten and has been chewed by mice and rats with the posibility of bed bugs, there is animal faeces on our fly net every morning and being next to a swamp we are plagued by mosquitoes, so that we get several bites every time we use the toilet. All I want now is to go and leave this shit hole behind. In the mean time my tummy is playing me up a treat and I need to use the loo again. Over the last few days both Carol and I have had tummy upsets and this is not a good end to our holiday and we are now trying to find a new place to stay. We have asked Mr Chui to take us over to the mainland in the morning and from there we can find another adventure and thus move on from a place where we have not been hugely happy. The disappointment we feel is however tempered by the thought of a new adventure. 

For food this evening we were forced once again to leave the site due to the kitchen here and went for a walk out to the Horizen resort and had food there. This was a good choice and the food was really nice even if they used a lot of garlic so I now have death breath and will be safe from Dracula for the night! Rather than walk along the beach, we chose to wander along the track through the woods and eventually found the place. Food arrived very quickly and the staff were nothing but friendly. The walk back though soaked us to the skin and I was actually cold for a brief moment of time, however as soon as I started walking I warmed up once again. 

Saturday 23rd November

What a day! We are now on another island on the other side of Thailand! We are now on Ko Samui, having escaped from the Ko Phra Thong and the joys of Mr Chui. But before I tell you anymore about where we are, let me tell you about our day.

Mr Chui was sullen and charged us 2000 Baht for our stay with him, not bad for three meals, one fucked motorbike and a few drinks! The level of over charging there is unprecedented even in Thailand. He collected our stuff in all but silence and then stopped at the bar so that he could get his bright red head scarf and then rode the bike and sidecar to the jetty, again with uot saying a word to us other than to tell us to get on. At the jetty he told us to wait while he sorted his boat and then told us to get on. ONce we were on, he climbed up on the front of the boat and sat on the prow smoking fags and talking in Thai to his friend who drove the boat. At the other side he told us to get off the boat and then to wait while he got his Taxi, a large shiny leather fitted Volvo. When he pulled up he told us to get in and we drove in silence to the bus station where he told us to get out. We unloaded our bags and Mr Chui suddenely smiled shooks our hands and said good bye! 

We jumped on the first bus of the day in Kuraburi and took that to Takui Pa where we changed to another coach to Surat Thani. Both coaches had leaking air conditioning and on the first coach Carol got dripped on. On the second journey I asked if she wanted to swap seats, but she said no. Thus is was that I got dripped on too, The coach took the familiar route down past Khao Sok and as we stopped at the bus stop for the National Park I saw Mr Bao's shiny Toyota and jumped off to say hello. His beaming smile and welcoming hand shake prived that he really did care about the people who stay with him and I thanked him for the wonderful time we had in the rain forest. 

Our arrival in Surat was rather hurried and the guy selling tickets on the bus dropped us right ourside a travel agent who then told us that there was only one more ferry to Ko Samui and that we were unlikely to make it if we fried to take the bus. She recommended a fast taxi and a sprint to the port. She was not wrong, the taxi sprinted through the rain, driving like a formula one driver, weaving through traffic and we arrived at the port just as the ferry was loading, the taxi driver drove the car into the foyet of the port, we loaded on our back packs and started walking into the port office and got waved through to the ticket office, we handed over our tickets and got waved through to the gangway and waited for about two minutes before we were waved onto the ferry. Had we waited for the bus, we would have missed the ferry and had to wait at the dock until tomorrow morning. We gave the taxi driver a 100 Baht tip for (£2) for getting us there in time and we taught him a new way of saying that something is good. Yes, I taught him to use the work Wicked!

The ferry set sail at half past six on the dot and sailed straight into the remains of a monsoon. I stood on the deck in unbeleivable rain that washed over the deck as the ship swayed from side to side (Carol says it is Yawing, I say it is making people want to puke!) in the wind. It was utterly beautiful and even though I got wet, I could not tare meself away from that spectacle of weather. It was truly fabulous. The lights of Surat had barely dipped below the horizn when the lights of Ko Samui came into view, it was the shortest two hour crossing I have ever been on and the food was also great, just a shame that there was not enough. 

We docked in Ko Samui under a heavy clouded sky with the occasional flash of lightening and wandered down the pier to the first piece of land. Just as we stepped form the pier to the dry land, the heavens opened and torrential rain fell, soaking us both in a matter of seconds. We sheltered under a shop awning and shivered, teh girl in the shop came out and told us that the cafe next door was still open if we needed to rest and get a drink. Carol asked if they had WiFi so that we could try to book a room and she said no, but the bar next to that did. 

The bar next door also had cheap rooms, cheese burgers on the menu and WiFi. Guess where we are still...

As I tucked into my clean safe and tasty Cheese Burger, I raised my glass of well deserved beer (bollocks to the medication, I can take that tomorrow!) and toasted Mr Chui with a might "Fuck You Mr Chui!". Carol gave me that look that is half disapproving and half laughing, is it any wonder that I love that girl with all of my heart. We travelled for twelve hours, met a good man again and enjoyed a tropical storm. Not bad for a days work is it?

So that is us for the next few days, we are both a lot happier, it is always a shame when paradise gets that human touch to drop the clog in the loom.

As a footnote to this, it has just been on the Thai news that Phuket is seriously flooded, it seems that the Dive Centre were right and Chui was wrong. We cannot make much from the news due to the language difficulties, but it seems that flooding and bad weather is coming as far as Surat Thani. As we have travelled across the country, we have been a step ahead of the weather and although we are not fond of Mr Chui, we do hope that he and his friend made it back home safely. 

Friday, 30 September 2011

MAG protest ride against bike fiddling laws...





Ban this sick filth!

Mag protest Ride, 25th September 2011. Did you go? Did you know why it took place? Do you care?


We did this because we were worried about what Legislation is going to hit us from the non elected bodies that advise the EU law makers. Now this is not the place to make a political statement, this blog is about fun and adventures, but even we get political occasionally.

So it was planned and we spread the word and we well buggered about in pouring rain trying to stay dry. But most of all, we had a damn good laugh while making a powerful statement. We as Bikers, yes bikers, leather clad, tattooed, petrol snorting, fag smoking, café racer building, chop making and streetfighter riding bikers are not prepared to take it up the arse any more.
Is that a Type Approved Air Filter Madam?

Sunday the 25th September, I got up early which was not hard because I was at work and about ready to come home. Usually after a night at work I crave only my bed for it’s comforts and the warmth of my wife, but not today. Today I dashed home and dumped the work kit before heading out into the rain to collect a good friend of Curious Adventures, Carley, also known as Fazer girl. Carley has just over come huge personal difficulties and life threatening illness and has fallen in love with bikes. Seems pretty normal to us and it is always cool to have a biker mate to hold your pint while you drill out a stuck exhaust stud.

Sadly Sylvie is still away at the motorbike hospital and it seems more and more likely that she is about to be written off, so today’s adventure for Carley and I was on a bike designed for elderly gentlefolk, the classic lines of the do it all Honda. A bike so bland it makes knitting and embroidery appear to be dangerous pursuits. Luckily Carley was not too unkind about the Chronically boring 600 and just about managed to climb aboard. The ride back to Curious Adventures HQ was so dull both of us nearly fell asleep on that Honda.

Carol and Alex were almost ready, computers were packed and barn owls fussed. Pulling on the one piece water proof suit Alex declared that he felt like he had gained years if not decades in age and kept stating that he felt like an old man! I was sure that there would be plenty for him at Gordano.

So two bikes, four riders, all bikers. Carol and Alex were to ride Noreen the ZRX1100, leaving Carley and I with the Chronically Boring 600. So off to the motorway we headed and with in minutes car drivers started doing what they do best in the rain. Drive like bigger pillocks than normal! While we are on the subject, car drivers this question is for you. Why, when it rains, do you insist on driving like you are a gorilla that has just had a frontal lobotomy? You are inside your nice dry steel boxes all tucked up nice and safe, yet you still manage to drive your two tonne death machine like a dangerous road weapon. Use you damn mirrors, give motorcyclists braking space and try to drive with a bit of consideration. To the gentleman who changed lanes with out even so much as a sideways glance and in doing so nearly took out the two beings I care for most in the whole world, I say this. Stay off the road you dangerous old fool. Had you hurt or killed those two people, you would have been deeply sorry. Luckily for you, you got away with a pushed back mirror. Eye for an eye remember.
So we hit the motorway and headed to Gordano, it was a gentle ride, a little bit of speed never hurt anyone did it? However, being undertaken by a tit in a road going 4x4, pulling a caravan at over eighty was taking the biscuit. You are the sort of man who deserves to have a Police Man following you and then taking away your license. Swerving from your lane to mine because you were speeding, while towing a caravan in bad weather makes you an idiot. It is not often that we here at Curious Adventures use such harsh language in text, but you deserved it, for nearly hitting my friend and I, it is justified. Let’s just hope that you did not hit anyone else that day.

Arriving at Gordano we were greeted by a beautiful sight, half of the car park was filled by bikers, of every conceivable type. Fluro vest wearing super distance riders, chop riding old schoolers, sports bike riding super heros, hack bike riding couriers, patch club members and us. Even the Harley riders turned out despite the rain, ever seen a rain soaked Harley? I have now and they are still pretty.

Unfortunately for me, the Chronically Boring had picked up a bolt and which pierced her tyre and slowly let the air escape. A quick discussion and the thought of a RAC truck home with a lovely chap just did not appeal. So from the hidden depths of friendship appeared a bottle of Tyre weld and this got us home. I do not know how, to me it looked like soap foam, the stuff you would use to wash the sofa (especially if you have a pet Barn Owl!) or the carpet, yet it blocked the hole with white foam and held the air tightly enough to make it ridable.

With seconds to spare, I inflated the tyre and found Wayne waiting with Carol, Alex and Carley. With in seconds, we were off. It felt like well over a thousand bikers surged forwards as one and the ride was begun. Carley and I sat upon the Old persons bike, Carol and Alex on Noreen and Wayne riding his old work horse Fazer. It was time to make a statement. That statement was big bold and took place all over the country and it was this. Do not mess with our lifestyle!

Now I know that some people have discussed the mass protest ride and stated that it achieved nothing except for slowing down other road users and annoying car drivers. Well, I have a counter to this, in the fight fir civil rights, some people are going to be upset. After all, let’s look at some of the significant figures in history. Emmeline Pankhurst (1858 – 1928), a women that we adore to this day caused a significant amount of upset. If you check out the joy that is Wikipedia, it has this to say about her.
“She was widely criticized for her militant tactics, and historians disagree about their effectiveness, but her work is recognized as a crucial element in achieving women's suffrage in Britain.”


Given the fun things she got up to, a few thousand Motorcyclists taking up a couple of lanes on the motorway is hardly that big a thing. Remember though, this was about civil rights, your right to modify your bike with parts that may not meet the strict rules of EU law. We all want safe bikes and to be safe on the road, but do we want the strict anti modification laws telling us which air filter we can use and what bits we can bolt on to where? I don’t think so. My bike is unique, it may look like many others, but it is mine and I will do with it what ever I want.

So we headed onto the Motorway, our statement big and bold as brass. Keep your hands off of our bikes. The rain fell and the traffic slowed. Cars suddenly took on formula one tactics, weaving in and out of the bikes like action movie stars. This was despite the fact that we had left the outside lane clear. Then came the git in the Gold coloured Range Rover, pushing his way through the bikes and forcing me into the middle lane. He wound down his window and began to shout abusively at me. He was disgusted that we were doing what we did. It hardly seemed fair to argue back while trying to ride in a pack with others on a motorway. Instead as he attempted to push onto my lane, forcing me back slightly, I just opened up the throttle and pulled forwards. Mr Range Rover had to stay in his own lane. Maybe if he had indicated I could have moved out of the way, but he was using his large truck as a weapon and once he came close enough I was able to reach into his vehicle and rifle through his glove box, help myself to a werthers and switch his radio station. He was very cross and he promptly sped up and tried to bully the bikes in front of him.

Our next incident came from an orange people carrier, one of those vans that are littered with seats so the comically inbred can carry their sisters and all of their children in one big car. Mr Inbred sat on my wheel, luckily Carley was in the way so he could not take up the pillion seat, but he was close. Then with no indication he snapped into the clear outside lane and then darted back in front of me, causing me to brake hard and sound my horn. Another stupid Car driver thinking that they can bully a biker out of the way. I will be eternally thankful for the chap riding the yellow GSXR Streetfighter who shot up behind me and proceeded to bang on the window of Mr Inbred. Mr Inbred then backed off from riding on the rear tyre of the bike in front of him.

After that excitement, it just chilled out. One car driver chose to leave the motorway by driving down the hard shoulder for half a mile before cutting up a queue of bikers by the exit. Mr 4x4 gave it a good shot of doing the same too and Mr Inbred managed to slip away with out endangering anyone else. We left the M4 and turned onto the M32, heading for Bristol. The last few miles of calm before the chaos that is Bristol, scary when you ride a bike. The procession slowed and more cars joined the queue to leave or enter the motorway. Finally we hit the end of the motorway and rolled to a stop at the traffic lights. Here everyone dispersed and with in minutes, no one could tell that Bristol had just been besieged by bikers with a political agenda.

So, who do we have to thank for this protest ride? Firstly, the EU. With out them none of this would have been needed. Now I usually love Europe, especially having travelled around a lot of it and been to many of it’s beautiful countries, but suggesting that I stop fiddling with my bike was a step too damn far. This leads us to MAG, the Motorcycle Action Group, a huge massive thank you to them for organising and designing the idea. With out them, many things would just go with out comment that would other wise affect our hobby. So thanks MAG and keep up the good work. Also a big lot of thanks to the riders who rode with us, you made a cold and wet day a huge amount of fun and made sure that every one had a good day.

We're not going to take it -


Saturday, 2 October 2010

Rain, Rain and more bloody rain...

Imagine the scene if you will, the pub dining room is nice and warm, the food was beautifully cooked and outside if is absolutely pouring with rain, not just little drops, but flooding the road with standing water.

Both the bikes, Sylvie and Agnes, sat in the car park, loaded up and ready for a road trip that was more for purpose than for an adventure, but it soon turned into an adventure, as the rain got heavier and the roads got wetter.

Our trip was a one hundred and eleven mile round trip from Weston to Gloucester and back again to collect Carol’s son, after a promise was made to collect him via motorbike for his weekend visit. So Carol and I pulled on our multiple layers of clothing that would ensure that no matter how wet we got, we would stay warm.

My layers consisted of this.

One pair of cycling shorts and a sports bra.
One pair of cycling tights and a vest top.
One pair of Crag Hoppers Mountain boot socks

Then came some armour.

One pair of Weiss armoured and water proof trousers (that have never been water proof since buying them in 2008).

Then one pair of  Asolo three season leather walking boots and Brasher Gore-Tex Gaiters to keep them dry.

One final pair of water proof walking trousers by Millets (that were water proof until climbing on to the bike last week and splitting the crotch!)

MyOne pink and black Skull print scarf and then my helmet all fitting so that I was sealed in.

Then my thermal lined Weiss Sophie jacket, in pink and Black.

A Hi-Vis vest in Yellow, silver and orange. Just in case Loopy Laura or Half Blind Billy are out driving today!

In the pub, I was feeling all of those layers and was building up something of a sweat! Finally, I pulled on my water proof Duchinn Gloves, brand new and bedding in nicely to my hands as the leather moulds to my hand shape. I was ready to go, I knew that I was going to get wet, but I also knew that I was going to be warm.

The rain was now bouncing off of the road and visibility was some what reduced. There is just the slightest possibility that this was one of the more ridiculous things that we chose to undertake, with in two minutes of starting the bike and pulling out of the pub car park, my left hand was sitting in a puddle of water as the seams on my fingers soaked up rain water, twenty minutes later both hands were soaked, my bum was soaked and I was actually very warm.

Now it is quite commonly known that the Suzuki SV650 suffers with a problem called Wet front plug. This occurs when rain water or road spray penetrates the water protection over the front cylinder of the ninety degree V-Twin engine. Once water gets in there, it shorts out the spark plug and cuts out the cylinder, leaving a bit of a void in the power supply. This was my main worry with Sylvie, especially as I have not yet bought her a fender extender to protect the engine.

Agnes on the other hand has known water based faults, due to thirty year old wiring that has seen more than its fair share of bodges and fixes by previous owners. However, Carol and I gave her a service last week that included new plugs, plug caps and filters, this effectively cured the issues of starting and running in the wet that she had when she first joined our garage.

The rain made the roads treacherous, traffic was bunching up and spray from the trucks coated everything, soaking into every part of our kit. The rain remained heavy and visibility was less than fifty meters, making our speed on the motorway less than forty miles per hour, even allowing two hours for the journey was going to make it tight for our four PM deadline to collect Alex from home.

The first water based problem with the bikes soon became apparent, Carol, who was leading was unable to indicate properly while riding Agnes. The indicator lights simply stopped flashing and when ever she indicated, they lit up with an orange glow and then went out when she turned them off. The wonderful inline four engine continued to pull like a train though and Carol rode the narrow tyred cruiser like it was a world class tourer, which frankly amazes me. Her hi-vis Paramedic jacket, given to her by her late Father was fluttering slightly in the wind, but it was making her the easiest thing to see on that motorway in those conditions.

Now here is a conundrum for you, what is the best thing to do when you can’t see where you are going on the motorway? Do you open your helmet visor, allowing improved visibility, but allowing painfully sharp road grit and stinging rain to hit you in the eyes, or do you keep your visor down and struggle to see through the rain and road grime splattered protective cover? I chose to try both options. When crawling along at below twenty miles per hour, I had my helmet front lifted (The joy of front flip helmets, a fantastic invention!) enabling me to see clearly and not have to worry too much about rain hitting my face. With out much forwards speed, it did not sting too badly at all and the road grit stayed pretty much on the road. Once the speed increased to above thirty, it was visor down and watching like a prey bird for brake lights, sudden lane changes from cars and for changes in speed by vehicles ahead.

Then at long last, we made it past Bristol. It was nearly an hour since we had left and we were only just half way. The rain seemed to sense our mood and grew just that little bit more penetrating of our gear and bikes. Sylvie continued to growl along the road with her usual surefootedness, despite her starting to approach the time when her rear tyre will need to be replaced. It may be a road legal tread depth, but there is a reason why they come with such deep tread, it clears water well when the channels are deep.

Once past Bristol, the traffic grew a little lighter and our pace increased slightly, from an average of about twenty miles per hour, we were now riding along reaching almost fifty, occasionally we slowed to just below forty, but we were at last making progress before pulling into Michael Wood Services for a very quick wee stop. It was nearly half past three, the road conditions were still bad and our deadline was fast approaching, so we were back on the road almost as soon as we parked up, we did not even have time to stop the engines! The glow of adventure was keeping our spirits high and despite the hard conditions, the ride was proving to be great fun.

At long last we approached Gloucester and then finally turned off of the motorway, heading for Alex’s home. That final turn into his street and then on to his houses drive way was all the more sweet for the time it had taken. I was slightly less than ten minutes late of the four PM deadline. Dismounting, I had rain water running down my legs, down my arms and down my body. Every part of me except my feet was damp, but I was still very warm and grinning like a loon. It was as I unloaded Alex’s riding gear from the bike that the rain finally stopped and then as if from nowhere came a glimmer of sunshine, a tiny patch of blue sky opened up and in that joyous moment I knew that we were going to enjoy the ride home to Weston.