Today is the Summer Solstice and here in the Northern Hemisphere our longest day of the year. It should be warm and sunny, but instead it’s miserable…which sort of matches my mood. Actually that’s been caused by a dose of computer grief, always guarenteed to wind me up!
Normally in the Dookes calendar, this time of year I would be riding Harls on the high mountain roads of the Alps or Pyrenees.
Er..don’t tell Mrs Dookes that I rode up here!!!
At present though, life is still anything but “Normal.”
It’s virtually impossible to travel abroad from the U.K. at the moment and like a lot of sensible people I’m also feeling very much less than enthused with the idea. Apart from the trifling matter of health and travel insurance, there’s also the balls-ache and cost of Covid tests before travel and the same in reverse….and that’s assuming that your country destination of choice will even let you in!
Oh and yes, I’ve had my two shots of vaccine!
Foreign travel is just not worth the hassle when I live in such a beautiful place and can enjoy riding around here.
Cornish roads, you can’t beat them.
Which is exactly what my mate Mark and I did last Friday.
First a gentle trundle to Port Isaac to collect an order of shellfish for Mrs Dookes.
Port Isaac is a working fishing village on the North Cornwall coast and if I take the direct route, only around 25 minutes from Dookes H.Q….we didn’t take the direct route!
The harbour, Port Isaac.
It’s a lovely little place with tight streets and alleys that has been made famous by a television drama called “Doc Martin.” Needless to say this has had the effect of attracting thousands of tourists, most of whom understand that the village is not solely a film set.
Hmm, tight!
There are however who, well let’s just say don’t understand and wander aimlessly around blissfully unaware that business and life is still happening.
In other words “Get out of the way!”
Fortunately, Harls rather meaty engine exhaust note has the effect of drawing attention to the fact that they are standing in the middle of the road…
Once the visitors were avoided and the food was stowed in one of Harls’ panniers, it was time to ride off and find some good coffee.
Can you spot Dookes???
A hundred miles later a very happy Dookes arrived home.
Yeah, it’s not the Alps, but it’s not half bad round here either!
Catch you soon.
Dookes
Hogrider Dookes 