We sat on a southern French terrace during our vacation
After an extensive lunch we had heard from the friendly terrace manager where we could sleep that night. His wife had a little further on a 'gite'. He would just call that we were coming. If you can manage reasonably well with the language in France, then the French are the nicest people in the world. An autumn course at the Volksuniversiteit is often enough. And not expensive.
We were happy and satisfied
Our loyal classics had done it exemplary. It had been a very nice day. Four heavy, sparkling touring bikes turned onto the square. The riders performed a ceremonial to take off all their protective clothing. That was impressive. We watched the show in our jeans and T-shirts. The quartet marched to our terrace. The Great Leader stopped at our table and spoke to us. In Dutch. He had seen our license plates. He pointed to our glasses and said: “Men, you have been drinking. I hope you don't get on the motorcycle dressed like that and with drinks. That is irresponsible ”
With Ernst the coin fell first
“Get out of my sun and grab a glass of buttermilk. Idiot". A car of the gendarme arrived. The two law enforcement officers alighted and approached the bar. They were accused by the Great Leader. He pointed to us. A gendarme approached us. Tapped his cap. Asked if we spoke French. We said that: “That gentleman says that you have been drinking and want to ride a motorcycle. …I believe".
We reported that we had lunch and drank a few glasses of wine and went to the gite of the lady of the café boss. “Ah, chez Rosalie. Elle est une très bonne cuisinière aussi! " Rosalie was also able to cook well. It became more and more festive. The second gendarme was also added. He had a glass of red wine in one hand and a second glass in his other hand. They came to our table. We toast on holiday and France with satisfaction. It was cozy.
The four exemplary grand tourists dressed up again and drove away in a wrong way
Later, the boeuf bourguignon from Rosalie was indeed divine. We did a carafe of house red in the evening dusk. We didn't have to drive anymore.
Below the line, good motorcycle clothing is of course the best invention after the motorcycle
Freedom happiness
But with the wind around your body fiddling around in jeans and T-shirt is one of the nicest things about motorcycling. And if you do unexpected soil testing, you will get asphalx chamois. That hurts yes. But if you count the times that you have enjoyed that freedom and see how often you have fallen there? As an experienced motorcyclist, I want to set an example. But my example is that I have always fully enjoyed my passion. And that 'always' has been around forty years. Because I had my first motorcycle for my first moped.
The next day we went north again.
In our motorcycle clothing.
Naturally.
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