The road eventually comes to an end

Before the road got this dark and frosty, long before, when the sun was still shining, I went for what's probably my last ever motorbike ride. I set out full of nostalgia and with no idea where I was going. As I reached each junction I made a decision, knowing only that I wanted to avoid the dangerous Oxford to Reading road. Somehow, of course, I found myself on it. 

For most of the ride I was out of town and away from traffic lights, but when I did reach them they were all, all, except one, when I was nearly home, red. At that one a learner driver panicked at the green and stalled in front of me till it went red too. 'Never mind,' I thought, 'Perhaps if I'd got round I'd have had an accident'. On the next green I turned left and at the next traffic light my right turn to home was blocked by an accident. This is, of course, a coincidence.

A four-mile detour, which included pushing the bike through a road-block where bikes and cars are not allowed during the day, ended my rite of passage. I hope I remember it as well as my first ever time on a motorbike, 42 years and 4 months ago.

And I hope the person who says they want to buy the bike off me actually turns up on Wednesday with the cash.

Also today, I got rid of one solicitor and acquired another one. This moving business is full-on and very tedious.


Black and white in colour 195