halstead - shefford
Harwich and the Crowmarsh
5.30 in the morning everybody on the ferry is busy to
get ready to disembark, but Harwich sleps under a grey curtain of fine
grey drizzle that muffles every sound.
Boats on the beach wait for better days,and it is foggy. I get lost,
but a friendy Enfield rider on his way to work points me in the right
'You're in Colchester mate, back to the A12 he says. Commuters dictate
the pace so i'm off and find myself chugging along small lanes, small
villages with impressive churches and later in the day i have a chat
with someone wherever i stop. As ugly as it can be on this island, its
countryside is kind of poetry in the reader's eyes.
The bike plays its magic, people smile, say it's good to see them naked,
oh, i thought it was a [insert whatever bike name here], later i find
an article written by someone left on the bike, signed "from the
MZ and Ural750 owner". Hey - i'm not alone!!!
But i am tired and for the first time i had the sagging feeling of a
brain refusing to cooperate, moments of near slumber on the road and
i had to stop often. Just like at school, or in between waking and sleep,
not good at all.
At the end of the day, again, i'm amazed by the general laidback attitude
of people, just like in Halstead where a lady said "are you travelling,
oh, how i envy you; you have to do what you can today". So there
i stand facing the little old town and immediately feel much better.
status bike: loud and wobbly
status max: firmly on the ground
status weather: misty, ok really.