It’s been a full day.
I’m in bed, falling asleep, but determined to get this post out to maintain Feb blogathon solidarity with Mr Masher.
Early this morning I rode the Daytona to that London. I took the cross-country route; down the A5, through Towcester and Milton Keynes (got lost there), and on down through Leighton Buzzard, Tring, Elstree, Hendon, Brent Cross, Baker Street, Oxford Street and finally to Buckingham Palace Road.
I met the very lovely S in Pret; we talked, then walked and talked and suddenly found ourselves on the south bank near St Thomas’ Hospital and run out of time because the hours had flown by.
I legged it back to Victoria, hopped on the Daytona and zipped through the London traffic along Embankment, to Borough Market.
The bloody lovely L arrived just as I had found somewhere to park; we went to a trendy eaterie and had something that was vaguely Spanish to eat. Almost straight away the hours had evaporated and it was time to go.
I navigated the Daytona across to Blackfriars Bridge, then north through Ludgate Circus, Farringdon, past Sadler’s Wells, Islington, Highbury, Holloway Road, Archway, Highgate, Finchley, and on to the M1 at Copthall. then to Luton.
Mr Masher made all the right kind of noises about the Daytona, and then he made me a cup of tea. We sat and talked and then I was invited in to his Amazing Den Of Geekery (as it shall be known henceforth).
After a period of intense jealousy, I got back on the Daytona and travelled home.
And now it’s approaching 11pm and I’m tucked up in bed, thinking about a good day out with friends, an excellent day on a bike, and the wonderful, very distinctive noise that the Daytona’s triple-cylinder engine makes.
It goes a bit like this: