Riding to work yesterday, I was reminded of living back in England. The air was cold and crisp and passing through a thick air the chill penetrated deeply, yet a bright globe could be seen trying to shine through thick icy cloud, like gazing at an old drafty halls outside light through the frosted glass window they all seem to have at their front door. There was a lovely romance to the journey into work, encased in the mist and overlooked by the coldly glowing sun. Not so this morning’s trudge through torrential rain and wind. Even the rattling snort of the race exhaust, as I tried to express my desire to escape the down pour failed to raise any sense of romantic motorcycling notion. Some days you can envy a car drivers cosseted comfort…… but not too many!!!
