However, to collect them meant a 40 mile trip to Tonbridge from Ashford, so I was enlisted as chauffeur. Sod's Law meant a day of teeming rain, but they endured and my daughter actually enjoyed that feeling of brisk accomplishment when they returned. Here they are, suitably wrapped up at Tonbridge ready for me to lead them back to Ashford.
Fortunately the weather cleared subsequently and I hoisted out my own motorcycle as Susan wanted to experience some father/daughter rides around Romney Marsh and the Kentish Weald - but boy, it was windy!
We stopped off at Rye Harbour to enjoy a bikers' break at the Bosun's Bite. I tried to do justice to my sausage sandwich, but confess to leaving the crusts! (I shall never get curly hair)
Also enjoyed were runs out to Dungeness to sample lunch at The Pilot, a pub/restaurant near the foreshore constructed around the original which is built of wrecked ship timbers.
They enjoyed themselves, as their faces show
Time came to return the bikes. The English weather obliged by dropping down storm force rain and the ride back to Tonbridge (during the morning rush hour) was hell. Two very wet relations returned in my car. At least they can rely on weeks of decent (if hot) weather in Oz!
The following day I relaxed by taking the ebike for a peaceful poodle down to a country churchyard on the Marsh. My elevenses were a little more delicate than the gustatory fare in the sausage image - pain au chocolat and coffee laced with whiskey.
9 comments:
Lovely!!....say Hi from me..I miss her blog xx
gz:
Thanks, I shall pass on your greeting. I, too, miss her blogging. She always wrote one of interest, but Instagram seems to have taken her over!
To hell with the bikes. I want that sausage sandwich.
Tom S:
Well, you will need to come to Rye to get it. It's a pleasant spot for a holiday from bashing stone in Bath.
What's this about not eating the crusts? Kinda wimpish don't you think? Mind you that three-sausage sandwich enrobed in what can only be labelled as two enormous door-stoppers could well have put me off and I'm not restrained by a lifetime spent in dimity Kent. And yes, I know dimity means something else but I've decided to add a further meaning. Herefordshire seems positively hairy-chested in comparison.
Delighted that HHB is tearing up the Tonbridge tarmac - she'll always be that to me as, I believe, I'm always BB to her. Give her my regards. When I described my first singing lesson back in 2016 she wrote a most touching comment which has always stayed with me. (Pauses to sniff a little).
My first reaction to your post was that the West Australian branch of the family deserved better weather. Then I bethought myself. One goes on holiday hoping for change. Had the weather been uncharacteristicaly hot, as it was a few weeks ago, where would have been the difference? And after all holidays are not just the few days spent elsewhere but the experiences we recycle in years yet to some. And this is when disaster, spilt blood and economic catastrophe come into their own; we recount our memories with relish. Blandness just doesn't cut it.
Yesterday, before I'd read your post, I was talking to a neighbour I've referred to before. He's retired but still youngish. Between us as we spoke was a new Triumph bike with a list price in the region of £10,000. You'd have disapproved: it had ABS on the rear wheel, switching on the ignition illuminated a display screen which offered the bike's autobiography. And the front brake - here's a thrillingly evocative name - was by Brembo! As you know there's no room for nostalgia in that dusty attic I call my mind. The best vehicle is - or should be - the newest. My neighbour had offered to let me bestride the Triumph but my legs aren't limber enough. Did fond memories rise to the surface? Not exactly since it was raining here too. I recalled riding into hard rain, my useless goggles pushed up, the droplets hitting my half-closed eyelids with the force of buckshot. Such that these assaults were slowly paralysing my eyelids which threatened to become fully closed. Much of my past is guarded by locked doors. But for the moment language plus imagination are still open and I may use them where I will.
Sorry, I wandered a bit.
I must confess that I boggled at the size of that sandwich. It was a two-course meal in itself. Nice to hear about your family get-together. Please wish them well from us.
RR:
Thanks for the usual varied and interesting comment. I shall pass on your good wishes to Susan (they are at present b&b-ing in Rye).
The Chemist's hire bike was a Triumph exactly as you describe. It went well and he was pleased with it. I am all for ABS and my beloved, owned for 27 years, BMW had magnificent twin Brembo disk brakes on the front wheel which would bring it to a full stop in very short order.
My current small Honda 250 (a "dimity" old man's bike) has but one front disk, Japanese Nissin rather than Italian Brembo.
Was it intentional? "Dimity", apart from being a weave of cloth, is used in Australia (and solely there) as a girl's name....
Tom:
Thank you. I shall pass on your good wishes. I hope Lucy, you and Effie are well? I miss Lucy's blog posts.
If someone can love people they've never met, I love your and your daughter spouse.
Feeling maudlin.
Post a Comment