"CHRISTMAS" ENCOUNTER, BILSINGTON CHURCH

On my cycling jaunts over Romney Marsh I like to stop occasionally to ease the posterior and wrists (legs are not too much of a problem due to the electric genie). Cafe stops are for a proper coffee and cake or lunch, but a need to sit down usually means finding a churchyard which has a seat. My days of sitting on the ground are past, once down there getting back up presents difficulties and is less comfortable anyway!

Hence an afternoon stop at Bilsington church. Sitting there, drinking coffee from my flask, I was able to see the field path rising up to the church from the Royal Military Canal below the escarpment. A lady of mature years was making her way through the yellow rape (canola) towards me.

Breathing heavily she approached my seat. "Do you mind company for a bit whilst I get my breath back?" I made room for her beside me. "Would you like some coffee?" (Luckily my flask has two cups, stowed "Russian Doll" manner.)

She was dressed in well used but quality "country " clothes and had an educated accent. "I do this walk every day. It keeps me supple since my son took over the farm and I have more time to myself. Also I can have a look how the crops are coming along." She was widowed, but lived in a bungalow on the farm, now run by her married son.

I had noticed a couple of gravestones with unusual names and asked if she knew their history.

"Ah, the Christmases. All gone now, but they were once local chimney sweeps. He started off with his brushes tied to the crossbar of his bike, but then had a motorbike and sidecar later. The bell? It used to be in the tower but they had to take it out as its wooden frame was getting dangerous. It is cracked anyway so couldn't be rung."

She got up to go. "That's better. Thanks for the drink. If you haven't been inside yet the reredos is unusual and worth a look."

It was, and very poignant too. An eminent judge, with two sons, well educated and started in the legal profession, had had it dedicated when he lost them both in the first few months of World War II. One with the British Expeditionary Force and the other dying from wounds at Dunkirk. Kipling's poem came immediately to mind, although relating to an earlier time.

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HONDA CD250U - NEW(OLD) BIKE

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About 18 months ago I bought a Chinese motorcycle  it was well made and reliable and I have enjoyed riding it. However, these days I am no longer earning and my only income is my pensions. Thus I need to part finance any motorcycle purchase from the sale of the previous one.

Watching trends, I have noticed that the public are still wary of Chinese motorcycles and this is reflected in their heavy depreciation .(Although practically everything these days seems to be made in China, if you carefully examine the pedigree).

So I resolved to sell it whilst it was comparatively new. Good old Ebay! It sold locally and easily at only £300 less than I paid for it. That sum was quite acceptable for 18 months "hire". Classic Japanese bikes are appreciating in value rapidly so I figured that was what I needed.

Now the machine in the image nestles in the garage, alongside my "winter use" Honda SHi 125 scooter. A 1992 model, they were only imported into the UK between 1988 - 92 so is pretty rare here. I scoured the country for one and had this one couriered down from Birmingham after talking to the previous owner about it. Although now 26 years old ("Classic"?) it is in perfect, original condition and has only covered 20,000 miles during its life. It is light (145 kgs) and has an electric start - both essential to me these days. It is also comfortable and very smooth. I bought it for £1,400 and it will sell at a profit when I need the cash to finance my (presumably) eventual invalid buggy!

Our motorcycling family grows. My daughter-in-Oz was always an enthusiastic pillion passenger from the age of about eight

but I abjured her never to ride a bike herself. She always abided by my wish, but her Aussie husband became a "born again biker" and the bug bit. At 50 (plus a little bit) she bought herself a 250 Honda, took training and passed her initial test first time. Then she 'fessed up to me -  tentatively! I was absolutely delighted.

Now she enjoys runs out in the hinterland of Perth, Western Australia with her husband, searching for the usual motor cyclist coffee stops.