Tuesday night at the Festival of Motorcycling sees the Italian Bike Night in Port Erin, traditionally held on the railway station which was a great venue, it moved down onto the Promenade a few years later, [ I rode the ‘peaky blinder’ TT F2 replica at Jurby and decided to ride it down to the Prom for the meeting under duress from Dangerous and Chalky, no tax, no mot, no insurance, what could possibly go wrong? An un-silenced, illegal race bike on the road, we got loads of interest and admiration, lots of nice comments and chased back to the digs by the local constabulary who, much to my relief, just wanted to have a look at the bike!]
So, the last few years the venue has changed to the local golf course, the land of funny handshakes, Farrah beige slacks and Volvo’s. A pleasant stroll from Base Camp on a late summer night, fizzy lager beer served in a flimsier than flimsy plastic glass and a perusal of the lovely Italian exotica in the car park. And then, there it is, sticking out like a pimple on a pigs arse, a bevel drive Ducati. Dufuckincati. Dufuckingenius.............
Tuesday night at the Festival of Motorcycling sees the Italian Bike Night in Port Erin, traditionally held on the railway station which was a great venue, it moved down onto the Promenade a few years later, [ I rode the ‘peaky blinder’ TT F2 replica at Jurby and decided to ride it down to the Prom for the meeting under duress from Dangerous and Chalky, no tax, no mot, no insurance, what could possibly go wrong? An un-silenced, illegal race bike on the road, we got loads of interest and admiration, lots of nice comments and chased back to the digs by the local constabulary who, much to my relief, just wanted to have a look at the bike!]
'mm, slacks.
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