A motorcycle parked in front of a tent on a pleasant green campsite

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Dawdling To David's

By Ren Withnell

Sharon pulls a silly face whil her chin rests on Ren's top box
Do you people realise what I have to put up with on my adventures?
Ren splashes through a tiny little ford on his motorcycle in Folkingham
There a pretty little ford just outside of the campsite in Folkingham.

The next day only brings more slow traffic on the gently curving roads of Lincolnshire. It's fine, I don't mind as we've got all day to cover just 80 odd miles. I'm chilled in the saddle soaking up the sun and cruising behind the trucks and cars. Breaking the spell I feel the angst of a car up close behind Sharon, desperately trying to push her another inch closer to myself which might push me an inch closer to the truck in front so the tailgater can be another inch closer to his gravely important destination. Set off 10 minutes earlier dear sir, relax and enjoy the journey.

More tea and internet access at a roadside cafe along the A17 then we pick up the B1145 east of King's Lynn. Oh yes, this is much more like it. We can achieve 60mph in places along this quieter minor road between the charming villages. There are corners and curves which excite our wheels and we swoop around them, balancing enthusiasm with care and fun with safety. Despite our caution I fear we may arrive at our destination a little too early.

Mileham's little convenience store also promises a convenient little tea room too so we pull over for refreshment. Alas it seems the tea room is closed so we mope around outside, pondering our next move when the shop owner pops his head out the door. "Have you broken down?" he asks in a strong Irish accent.
"Erm no, we'd just stopped for a brew but the tearoom's closed, we're fine thanks."
"I'll make you a tea, I don't mind."
So now we're sat outside the shop on a wooden bench drinking tea in paper cups. The gentleman refuses payment and explains his wife who runs the tea room and the shop is taking a well earned holiday. I look at the bikes, I look at the village and I feel the warmth of the sun. Yeah, it's allright this innit.

The shop in Mileham, a white building in a rural village in Norfolk
Mileham is a fine little place to stop.

David's place is just a few miles down the road. I give him a call to see if he's in and he is so off we go.

As I examine the house numbers I recognise David's little campervan. As we pull in the man himself appears, eyes bright and a healthy colour to his skin. Tonight our motorcycles take pride of place in his garage and his classic Reliant Scimitar is relegated to the driveway. The bikes must feel this is a real treat, a real swanky holiday for them.

After an important cup of tea and making David's garage and spare bedroom untidy with our kit he whisks us away in said Scimitar. The V6 rumble, the surge of acceleration and the sporty seating position belie the car's infamous cousin, the Reliant Robin 3 wheeler of Trotter's fame. It's a nice piece of kit this.

David developed the classic motoring bug upon retirement from the fire service. Between exploring Europe and family visits he found he had a little spare time which he used to restore a Citroen 2CV that has been in the family for years. This piqued his interest, the Scimitar was both affordable and yet interesting enough to become his next project. 

Cromer is our destination. My legs appreciate the long walk to the lighthouse and the cliffs although I really need to exercise more. I always think of East Anglia as being rather flat but my increasing heart rate and wheezy breath clearly tell me otherwise. We stand atop the cliffs looking out over The North Sea. In spite of it's fearful reputation The North Sea is millpond calm today with only a soft breeze to flutter my hair a little. 

Small waves lap the sandy beach at Cromer, down below the bluffs
The North Sea? Like a mill pond mate.

Chips - again! This is not going to help improve my health but we're on holiday so it doesn't count. Sitting on a bench overlooking the pier while eating chips I feel like an English cliché. I've never been to Cromer before, it's rather pleasant with a variety of complimenting architectures both old and new and broad sandy beaches, the town has an endearing character. 

Cromer pier justting out into a calm flat sea in the blue skies of Norfolk
Chips, the seaside and a pier. How quintessentially English.

The rest of the evening is spent learning all about David and his life here in Norfolk and beyond. We sit in his conservatory as the sun drops in the sky and the breeze stiffens a little, stirring the broad barley field over which we're looking. We swap stories, share our hopes for the future and finally retire to a real bed with real pillows and real sheets. We're being spoiled rotten.

Prologue - Friends And Family 2017 Ren is setting the scene for the trip to that there "daaaan saaaaf" place. He's also wondering what kind of person would ask 2 itinerant motorcyclists over for a couple of nights.
Crawling To Sleaford Ren finds it odd to be riding in sunshine on a Wednesday with Sharon. Frustratingly though the traffic puts paid to any plans of motorcycling pleasure.
Dawdling To David's It's a lazy ride through Lincolnshire and Norfolk today despite the antics of other road users. Cromer turns out to be quintessentially English.
Time With David There's no motorcycling today but fear not there's a guided tour in a classic car instead. They say variety is the spice of life.
Time With Dad The miles fly by as does the chill out time at Ren's father's place.
The Cotswolds As Sharon and Ren return home they stop in The Cotswolds. It's as pretty as the promotional pictures so what's Ren got to gripe about this time?

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