Romford to Harwich
HQ, last night, 1900 hours.
Them: 'Go on, have some Chinese, we're all having Chinese.'
Me: 'I've eaten really.. So I don't need anything',
Them: 'Go on'
Me: 'Really, I'm OK, thanks'
Them: 'Go on go on go on go on'
Me: 'Oh..'
Them: 'Go on' etc ad infinitum.
I get the asking over the period of two hours waiting for a friend to come over so they could order, so by that time I'm mildly hungry and I give in, deciding on a wee helping..
Nibbling away, consuming a chunky crispy chip with curry sauce I get crunch/crack. Ace, just ace
Fast forward 16 hours and I'm stood outside the Hornchurch Family Dental Practice. Luckily they listened to my plea and said they'd fit me in- I've done dental pain on a bike and never again, certainly not if there's any choice in the matter. Half an hour of drilling and all of that hoohah and we have a tooth fixed
Time to get back home to pack up and get going.
I quickly sort out the heated waistcoat and get it wired up. Observe: No panniers this time. No camping gear. Just the top box and the soft bag. Sporty, flatter, more pointy. Of course, you could have observed if I didn't delete the photo. Anyway, it's a red 1200 with a top box. You've seen one, you've seen 'em all
Final tweaks: There's a millinery switch. I change the System 6 over for the Caberg Hyper X. I figure there'll be not much riding with the flip up, a favoured pastime, given the promised temperatures.
And we're off. Or are we? The bike didn't want to start. Huh. It did though after a bit of faffing. I guess a sort of 'How dare you leave me unused' huff after the long exile in the garage for ten days. But it gives in and kicks into life and away we go, hustling along a dark and crowded A12 and out to the East.
My first port of call will be a social one to our Fanum of this parish (as you will have gathered now). I call in at the shed and have a browse.. A lot of Landy kit.. A Kalahari on the way to becoming an outfit.. A certain red 1150 awaiting some tender loving care.. And a K100 with a rather natty fairing.
We head off for kebabs. Fine living indeed. A cup of tea and a good chat.
I'm lent a puncture kit (cheers buddy) ...
...and I say farewell...
Not a great picture. Arty though. A 'Billhouette' if you will
So all that is left on the road is an arduous three minute ride to the ferry
Hitting the port and getting to the boat is a breeze. I get to the window, lady gives me a cabin keycard and says that we're boarding now so just go on. Thirty yards past there's three bored border agents. As I pull up, I stall it. 'Don't ride it much, then?' asks the bod. 'Erm.. Actually, yes, not so's you'd notice, though…' We have a quick chat; no bikes thus far today on the ferry and there's a bit of good natured banter. Last question was 'Are you carrying any large sums of money?' Answer, 'Sadly, not'. Ah, If only
And we're on the ferry presently. I think I'm probably last on. The thing is half full loaded but the car deck is eerily deserted. We're still an hour and a touch away from the 23.15 departure. A little man appears, like the shopkeeper from Mr. Benn. Without fuss he ties the bike down and swifly disappears. I take the lift to my quarters. And the verdict there is.. well, most impressive as it happens. An inside two berth cabin; typical compact cabin size, but there's a sofa and a flat screen TV, and the whole thing has a bit of a cruise liner feel to it. Certainly much better than any ferry I've taken over the summer and there's been a few.
I de-clobber and head up to the lounge clutching my laptop and a pikey blue plastic bag with two tins of 'Lech' lager I'd collected from the offy in Harwich adjacent to the kebabery. I order a Heineken from the bar, and it's £3 for a pint, so actually it wasn't too silly, but I get a souvenir glass to tip my take outs into.
Clearly you have to be on time for the Stena Hollandica. Just before 23.00 we're moving, 15mins ahead of schedule.
After my relaxing beverages I retire to the cabin. I'm not ready to sleep yet so switch on the television. Not something I generally do, but it's a novelty to see what channels they get. It is a silly mistake. I ended up watching some crappy Sylvester Stallone film on ITV4. It was an early one. He had a beard and wore flares. Rutger Hauer starred as the psycho bad guy. It was so bad it was good if you see what I mean; I couldn't tear myself away.. I simply had to watch it. The acting was so incredibly wooden.. the whole film was a bloody fire risk. Eventually it finishes and I get off to sleep. It must be 2am when I do.
Tut tut, silly boy.
..
HQ, last night, 1900 hours.
Them: 'Go on, have some Chinese, we're all having Chinese.'
Me: 'I've eaten really.. So I don't need anything',
Them: 'Go on'
Me: 'Really, I'm OK, thanks'
Them: 'Go on go on go on go on'
Me: 'Oh..'
Them: 'Go on' etc ad infinitum.
I get the asking over the period of two hours waiting for a friend to come over so they could order, so by that time I'm mildly hungry and I give in, deciding on a wee helping..
Nibbling away, consuming a chunky crispy chip with curry sauce I get crunch/crack. Ace, just ace
Fast forward 16 hours and I'm stood outside the Hornchurch Family Dental Practice. Luckily they listened to my plea and said they'd fit me in- I've done dental pain on a bike and never again, certainly not if there's any choice in the matter. Half an hour of drilling and all of that hoohah and we have a tooth fixed
Time to get back home to pack up and get going.
I quickly sort out the heated waistcoat and get it wired up. Observe: No panniers this time. No camping gear. Just the top box and the soft bag. Sporty, flatter, more pointy. Of course, you could have observed if I didn't delete the photo. Anyway, it's a red 1200 with a top box. You've seen one, you've seen 'em all
Final tweaks: There's a millinery switch. I change the System 6 over for the Caberg Hyper X. I figure there'll be not much riding with the flip up, a favoured pastime, given the promised temperatures.
And we're off. Or are we? The bike didn't want to start. Huh. It did though after a bit of faffing. I guess a sort of 'How dare you leave me unused' huff after the long exile in the garage for ten days. But it gives in and kicks into life and away we go, hustling along a dark and crowded A12 and out to the East.
My first port of call will be a social one to our Fanum of this parish (as you will have gathered now). I call in at the shed and have a browse.. A lot of Landy kit.. A Kalahari on the way to becoming an outfit.. A certain red 1150 awaiting some tender loving care.. And a K100 with a rather natty fairing.
We head off for kebabs. Fine living indeed. A cup of tea and a good chat.
I'm lent a puncture kit (cheers buddy) ...
...and I say farewell...
Not a great picture. Arty though. A 'Billhouette' if you will
So all that is left on the road is an arduous three minute ride to the ferry
Hitting the port and getting to the boat is a breeze. I get to the window, lady gives me a cabin keycard and says that we're boarding now so just go on. Thirty yards past there's three bored border agents. As I pull up, I stall it. 'Don't ride it much, then?' asks the bod. 'Erm.. Actually, yes, not so's you'd notice, though…' We have a quick chat; no bikes thus far today on the ferry and there's a bit of good natured banter. Last question was 'Are you carrying any large sums of money?' Answer, 'Sadly, not'. Ah, If only
And we're on the ferry presently. I think I'm probably last on. The thing is half full loaded but the car deck is eerily deserted. We're still an hour and a touch away from the 23.15 departure. A little man appears, like the shopkeeper from Mr. Benn. Without fuss he ties the bike down and swifly disappears. I take the lift to my quarters. And the verdict there is.. well, most impressive as it happens. An inside two berth cabin; typical compact cabin size, but there's a sofa and a flat screen TV, and the whole thing has a bit of a cruise liner feel to it. Certainly much better than any ferry I've taken over the summer and there's been a few.
I de-clobber and head up to the lounge clutching my laptop and a pikey blue plastic bag with two tins of 'Lech' lager I'd collected from the offy in Harwich adjacent to the kebabery. I order a Heineken from the bar, and it's £3 for a pint, so actually it wasn't too silly, but I get a souvenir glass to tip my take outs into.
Clearly you have to be on time for the Stena Hollandica. Just before 23.00 we're moving, 15mins ahead of schedule.
After my relaxing beverages I retire to the cabin. I'm not ready to sleep yet so switch on the television. Not something I generally do, but it's a novelty to see what channels they get. It is a silly mistake. I ended up watching some crappy Sylvester Stallone film on ITV4. It was an early one. He had a beard and wore flares. Rutger Hauer starred as the psycho bad guy. It was so bad it was good if you see what I mean; I couldn't tear myself away.. I simply had to watch it. The acting was so incredibly wooden.. the whole film was a bloody fire risk. Eventually it finishes and I get off to sleep. It must be 2am when I do.
Tut tut, silly boy.
..