I had a great day out on the bike yesterday. Sarah was stuck in Birmingham as she was training for her forthcoming 'summer of running' so I had the weekend free to play about, which is exactly what I've done. In order to get some decent road time under my belt I left the house early doors yesterday and spent the morning hooning it around the home counties.
I rode out of London and headed West. I skirted Amersham and Chesham, rode through Aylesbury and ended up in Oxford City Centre where I stopped for a sarnie and vanilla smoothie in Cafe Neros. There were some bays outside and a few cars had stopped so I parked up and looked around for signs which indicate the parking restrictions. I couldn't see any, but I knew that as Oxford was one seriously car unfriendly place, there had to be some somewhere. I decided to risk it as I was only going to off the bike for a maximum of 10mins. Just after my sandwich arrived the parking warden arrived. Sh#t!!.
I hopped out of my chair and headed over to plead my case. He was probably the nicest civil servant I have ever encountered. I explained that I was just grabbing a bite to eat and I that I couldn't see any parking restriction signs. It turns out one was mounted on the wall between the shops right behind me. In London, they're normally on poles and I'd simply failed to spot them. What an idoit! He asked me how long I was going to be, to which I replied less than 5mins, which was true and he said, okay, that's fine no problem and he scrapped my ticket. I asked about the motorcycle bays for future reference, but I was left with an overriding feeling of thanks and gratitude. He could easily have been a jobsworth, but he was a really nice bloke. I guess i didn't hurt that I was polite to him and didn't go off the deep end.
The rest of the mornings riding went well and after a brief stop at the Ace Cafe for a cuppa, he I got home just as the fuel light came on. So this morning, after cleaning the bike last night, I made a quick run to get some fuel this morning. Traffic was already far to busy to think about going for a proper ride so I just stopped for morning coffee and headed home. I then noticed this.
I hopped out of my chair and headed over to plead my case. He was probably the nicest civil servant I have ever encountered. I explained that I was just grabbing a bite to eat and I that I couldn't see any parking restriction signs. It turns out one was mounted on the wall between the shops right behind me. In London, they're normally on poles and I'd simply failed to spot them. What an idoit! He asked me how long I was going to be, to which I replied less than 5mins, which was true and he said, okay, that's fine no problem and he scrapped my ticket. I asked about the motorcycle bays for future reference, but I was left with an overriding feeling of thanks and gratitude. He could easily have been a jobsworth, but he was a really nice bloke. I guess i didn't hurt that I was polite to him and didn't go off the deep end.
The rest of the mornings riding went well and after a brief stop at the Ace Cafe for a cuppa, he I got home just as the fuel light came on. So this morning, after cleaning the bike last night, I made a quick run to get some fuel this morning. Traffic was already far to busy to think about going for a proper ride so I just stopped for morning coffee and headed home. I then noticed this.
Somewhere on this mornings very short journey, my clutch reservoir cap made a break for freedom. I can't comment whether this happened by chance, or if it had a helping hand, but as it's Sunday all the dealers are closed, but thankfully my mate Dave, who lives just around the corner and owns a bright red 1198, is going to lend me his cap as he wont be using his bike this week. Thankfully no fluid spilled onto the paint, which is very handy for me. Knowing Ducati though, this is going to cost me £20, which I suppose its one way to boost the Italian economy in these tough times.
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