yen_powell

More rufty tufty 80s bike camping (priest on the left this time), this time it's the arse end of my CX. I was the only person with a camera back then so I'm not usually in the pictures. Man in blue hat is the colourful character (Wombat) who introduced me to motorbikes, a life changing moment really if I think about it.

Drink, drugs, occasional outbursts of violence, followed by the swelling of one of his organs (liver?) so much that it nearly stopped his heart beating. This was followed by a promise made to a fictional character up above whilst laying in a hospital bed to be a good boy from now on. Of course, religion, like drink or drugs can take over some peoples' lives to extremes.

I took a picture in the same place looking the opposite way, I was very lucky all cars were absent and just before I got my camera out a vintage car pulled up, parked and the driver went inside one of the houses. Unfortunately I made a faux painting version of my photo and I am not sure where the original is. Same railings though.

Your old adopted King tried to make a reappearance I heard, despite his abdication for ........... personal reasons.

Not me, my mate who became a priest.....but more importantly the back end of my second GPz750 at Kent Custom Show approximately 1988.

Oh bugger.

What have the Romans ever done for us? Love this picture.

I did a pub quiz followed by a birthday drink on Thurdsay night after work. We always come second in this particular quiz because the usual winning team always ace it in the 'music intro' round. Strangely the team leader always seems to play with his computery type watch during that round, we are sure there is a connection there, but not being as clever as them we can't work it out. Then on Friday morning I did a zoom meeting with my boss who told me I have to give more work to my underlings even if they fuck it up. Christmas came early. Friday afternoon me and my mate were waiting to hear if a concrete mixer had turned up at a third mate's house as we would be laying a concrete base for a small shed. Luckily it was late so we went out to Birthday drink number 2 at the same pub, this one was for Ted, 75 this year. Ted is currently umming and arring about changing his bike yet again. These old codgers are never happy with the bike they have I have found!!!!! Saturday morning a little worse for wear the concrete mixer has turned up so it was 4 hours of shovelling, mixing, plopping and tamping down the concrete base. I don't ache as much today as I thought I would, must be because we dug the bloody thing out last week and there are no back muscles left to upset. Halfway though mixing and laying I got a phone call from Ted. Trying to get my concrete covered gloves off and the phone out of my pocket I missed the call, so had to ring him back. Turned out he was outside the back garden on one of his son's motorbikes to show us. I opened the garage door and there he was on a Suzuki 1000 V Strom which he is thinking of buying when his son's PCP ends soon. He had one about 10 years ago and got rid of it because he was having trouble pushing it about as he got older.

Possibly here, he has the same look on his face that I do when secretly piddling in the shallow end.

Excellent, Can you have two motorcycles in a bike of the month picture because that is one? That chiselled landscape is brilliant.

I always had the feeling that when a nurse took my catheter out we are officially engaged. The old 'I'm going to count to three' routine (but pull on two).

Have you bought a new bike, you should have said??

Bit of volume needed for this. Hope my neighbour appreciated the walls shaking a minute ago.

Is the centre of the black plastic knob pry-offable? Can't tell cos pic is a little blurry. Usually that comes off with the end of a screw driver on the bikes I've had and there is a little bolt inside, or maybe even a little circlip to stop your knob dropping off if you twist it loose too much.

I only rode around the area of Rhodes City, and even then I parked outside the walls of the old town and walked in when inside. I used to park by a lace stall and the extremely ancient old lady running it always greeted me with a big grin and a thumbs up. I liked Rhodes, it's like most Greek islands but with hardly an litter and cars will actually stop on the main road if they see you trying to cross and wave you over.

Someone who didn't want to carry them all the way to the skip I reckon. Sensible chap.

Mmmmm, lurvely.

It's the feeling that I can outwit any of the residents if necessary.

Left back through the church, glad to see my bike was untouched. This monument is yet another from the Coutts family. The Queen banks with them. I'd love to see her bank card for when she pops to the cash point to get some readies for a night out.

Finally I left the church yard on the opposite side to where I had entered, walked under the railway mainline and found a canal with all new shops and restaurants rammed with people. Seems it was the old coaling storage area judging by the name of the place. Two old gas holders had been reused as the surround for super expensive flats. I spotted the Post Office Tower whilst wandering round the shops. I still imagine a kitten clinging to it every time I see it thanks to The Goodies tv series.

I went outside to see the Hardy Tree and the bugger was fenced off and hidden behind small hedges, I could barely see the stones. Next I went to look at the tomb that inspired the designer of the red telephone box. Again, a fence was a round it.

I wanted to visit the Hardy Tree in St Pancras Old Church yard so on Sunday I headed down the motorway and into my work borough to start with. Traffic was a bit rough along Hackney Road thanks to roadworks closing lots of other main routes around there plus the adjacent Columbia Road flower market. I was filtering down the outside of standstill traffic, cyclists were filtering down the inside and the Deliveroo mopeds were filtering down the outside of me AND the cyclists. At the same time lemming peds were emerging at all locations and crossing all our paths with gay abandon. Gay abandon is like normal abandon, but better dressed. I left my borough, negotiated the madness that is Old Street roundabout and then headed along City Road which used to be a daily commute for me when I would drop my old girlfriend to work at Madame Tussauds before heading back to my own work. It hasn't changed much and soon I was riding down the side of Kings Cross station and parking in a convenient solo motorcycle bay across the road from the church yard. I went into the church first. Unusually for me I actually took a few pictures inside. One was of St Pancras himself, must have been a carbolic church if they have a statue of a saint I suppose. St Pancras is depicted wearing a fetching Roman outfit. I gather he was beheaded for being a Christian. The church is supposedly rebuilt every 200 years and there were large cracks at one end as you'll see. Walking around the tiny surrounding path of the church I turned a corner into a cloud of bees. I stepped back rapidly and took a few pictures of the almost hidden beehives tucked behind the church. On the way back out I noticed that the gravelled path had slabs as stepping stones made from old tomb stones, the date clearly visible on one of them.

My plan is to visit the Hardy Tree tomorrow, something will probably happen to change my plan though.