APRIL SHOWERS

I watched the forecast last week avidly. More avidly than usual, which is saying something.  On Saturday, I did a further weather check and then sighed, and headed for Guildford to fetch my new baby.

I like Guildford. They fetch bikeless customers from the station, and will do nice little things like give you a big backpack for your paperwork, including a mini bike cleaning kit. In my case, this included an additional full size bottle of paint cleaner, because my baby is a Denim finish, not gloss, so the usual suspects won’t work. It’s kind of like jewellery – I may never forgive H Samuel for returning my matte white gold ring to me all shiny.

As my new bike has a solo seat and no back-rack, all luggage must be attached to my person.

Of course, by the time we’d sorted out all the paperwork and payment bits and pieces, and got the DVLA computer to spit out a tax receipt so I’d be legal to ride, the April showers I’d been hoping to run between had changed their schedule, and wandered over to have a look at this pretty and beautifully cleaned and polished new beastie, growling on her stand.

So naturally, I got escorted home by drips and drops of curious rain, under a sky that almost matched my paintwork (the paintwork’s prettier, though).