Rain had been forecast for midday, and on disembarking from Eurotunnel, I find myself emerging into torrential rain. Puddles are sizable and cars and lorries throw up huge plumes of spray as they crash through them. Despite the conditions, the bike feels stable and not really affected by the surface water - the Michelin Pilot Road 4 tyres are doing their thing, effectively clearing a path. Cars are tiptoeing through the conditions and I find myself king of the fast lane for once. Luckily I prepared for the rain with my waterproofs, so I plough on dry and unaffected.
The rain clears by the time I reach London, but the still wet road generates a dirty film on my visor that I have to clear periodically. I'm no longer king of the fast lane and Audi man clings to my bumper with all the bravado four wheels can bring; I pull over at the first opportunity.
London M40, M42 Birmingham and then the M6 skirting Manchester. The bloody M6! Miles and miles of roadworks. Never, ever, have I encountered such extensive roadworks, tailbacks and stop start mile after mile - it's agony. Normally bikes can filter through such jams, but much of these roadworks are narrow lanes which makes filtering impossible, really difficult, or car horn inducing. It's made worse by my worn tyres; there's plenty of tread on them, but they've worn in such a way that it accentuates the tramlining effect and I find myself weaving erratically over the cats-eyes and overbanding.
The M65 eventually allows me to escape from the M6. This is more like it, as I burn off the cobwebs on the final leg into Oopnarth.
And then, 763km later, I am truly 'Oopnarth'. Steve says he's never seen me looking so knackered getting off a bike. And yes, they do speak funny. Aye-yah!
Sent from my trusty rusty BlackBerry
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