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lprovenOK. I keep promising various people I'll try to update this more often.
So. What's happened... Eastercon. Damn Fine Con. Battersea Beer Festival. Loads of stuff. Some very dull stuff about computers but I've promised myself not to write about that.
But now, this year's holiday, in the exotic sunkissed Isle of Man; the 2002 TT Race Festival.
Kjersti & I set off on Sunday afternoon. Up early - for a Sunday: 9am. It was p*ss*ng down. We packed, desultorily.
After an hour or two, the rain stopped. The sun came out. We packed more frantically. At about 1pm, already desperately late, we left the house, locked up, loaded up the bike... and [pit] [pit] [pitpat] [pitterpatter] [WHOOSH] the rain started again.
It rained on and off the whole way, from damp roads and humidity to torrential deluge, a few tens of metres visibility and crawling along in the slow lane of the M6 trying to wipe the inside of my visor. Utterly wretched. We made the boat for 5min to spare, if that...
And then waited an hour and a half for it to depart. They weren't prepared for the load, apparently. Well, bless, the Steam Packet's only had 95 years to prepare.
So, at 9:30pm, the journey that was aborted seven years and three hundred and sixty-four days earlier was finally completed. Liam and his ZZR1100 - and a soggy, unhappy girlfriend - arrived at the TT.
So. What's happened... Eastercon. Damn Fine Con. Battersea Beer Festival. Loads of stuff. Some very dull stuff about computers but I've promised myself not to write about that.
But now, this year's holiday, in the exotic sunkissed Isle of Man; the 2002 TT Race Festival.
Kjersti & I set off on Sunday afternoon. Up early - for a Sunday: 9am. It was p*ss*ng down. We packed, desultorily.
After an hour or two, the rain stopped. The sun came out. We packed more frantically. At about 1pm, already desperately late, we left the house, locked up, loaded up the bike... and [pit] [pit] [pitpat] [pitterpatter] [WHOOSH] the rain started again.
It rained on and off the whole way, from damp roads and humidity to torrential deluge, a few tens of metres visibility and crawling along in the slow lane of the M6 trying to wipe the inside of my visor. Utterly wretched. We made the boat for 5min to spare, if that...
And then waited an hour and a half for it to depart. They weren't prepared for the load, apparently. Well, bless, the Steam Packet's only had 95 years to prepare.
So, at 9:30pm, the journey that was aborted seven years and three hundred and sixty-four days earlier was finally completed. Liam and his ZZR1100 - and a soggy, unhappy girlfriend - arrived at the TT.
