Post 320: Garden of England BMF Show

If was another BMF Show, this time down in Kent. Bloody hell. Just four weeks ago punters had been asked to fork out fifteen quid to visit the BMF Show in Peterborough. Are British summers really so short that the BMF need to hold their shows so close together?

Anyway, another free-pass and the promise of more free-beer saw me winding my way down the M20 at stupid o’clock on Saturday morning. I really should have ridden down on Friday night but a comfortable bed had gotten the better of me. Unfortunately once again it was my own bed, but I’m working on a solution to that one.

What can I tell you about this BMF show? Well, it was a typical BMF show so even if you didn’t attend, then your life will be no the poorer.

On the other hand, for me it was the best BMF show that I’ve ever attended. The Riders Digest had invited another couple of travellers to display their bikes around the TRD stand. I always thought that the collective noun for a group of two-wheeled-travellers was a ‘Confusion’, but after this weekend I’ve changed my mind. It’s got to be a ‘Giggle’.

Jacqui Furneaux had done the decent thing and arrived on the Friday evening. Maybe she was more enthusiastic about attending the show than I was, or maybe the journey from Bristol on her Enfield 500 would have meant a starting time that was even earlier than my own.

We’ve never met before, but Jacqui is an absolute hoot. She bought herself an Enfield 500 as a birthday present and travelled to parts of the world that I wouldn't even dare to mention. While I was busy whining about corrupt cop’s and crappy roads in Russia, Jacquie was quietly conquering war zones and roads where others would fear to tread. If anybody is 'putting-off' that next big trip for fear of 'this, that' or the non-existent 'other', then they really ought to look at what she has achieved. A real inspiration.

The second bike was a GS 1100 belonging to Irishman Joe Walsh. I’d heard rumours of Joe's exploits over the past ten years but finding any real information about his journeys is amazingly difficult. Joe travels so far below the radar that he makes Hollywood Stars and their Resting Actors chums look like nothing more than publicity whores. Joe currently works in London doing a job that would make lesser men abandon all hope. He drives a London Bus on the graveyard shift. For a man who travels the world, it must feel like a huge disappointment to be travelling daily between Twickenham and Heathrow, but Joe just smiles and counts the minutes. Every eight minutes means one pound of income and every one pound of income means ten miles of future travelling. What an amazing attitude.

I guess that we were supposed to chat with visitors about our respective journeys and entice them into subscribing to The Riders Digest magazine. However, I fear that we spent much of the weekend talking amongst ourselves, planting the seeds for new adventures and laughing almost to the point of pain. Hence the new collective noun for a group of two-wheeled-travellers, a ’Giggle’ … mai pen rai

As for me. Well, I’m just the mouthy bighead with a remarkably clean looking Tiger. I didn’t think that it looked quite so clean, but parked next to these two genuine articles, it really did look like an impostor.

Talking of being bigheaded, on Thursday I’ll be jetting off to Romania for a week. There’s a certain road that’s calling me and a free BMW waiting for me at Cluj Napoca Airoport. Cluj Napaca? I’d never heard of it either, but I’m sure that I’ll be able to tell you a hell of lot more about it two weeks time …… mai pen rai

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