Easter long
weekend was generally overcast and pretty cool with odd moments of that sneaky
rain that mists down – wet, but invisible and nearly unnoticeable. Nonetheless,
there is no way a long weekend is not going to include a ride, so I wrapped up
warmly (I guess that early April heatwave was summer, folks) and trundled off
to a favourite pub, eyes streaming from wind, pollen and possibly also a
drizzle; and the bike snarling at the bank holiday traffic, which was unusually
full of idiots.
At the pub,
I parked up and the bike immediately defaulted to demure and beautiful. Every
other customer stopped for a second look. Little do they realise that it’s an
illusion, and actually, she growls.
I’ve
mentioned the deviousness of the wind in finding ways past visor and glasses.
Currently, both the plane trees and the rapeseed are in bloom, which tends to
make me hayfeverish, and on overcast days, I’m hard pressed to know whether the
moisture on my cheek is rain or just my eyes watering.
Roll on summer! (Preferably on two wheels).
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