Eunos Chump

Finished installing the grips today.  I used Bostik 'Serious Glue' rather than the provided super glue as it doesn't set immediately, so I could fine tune the position.  The grips were a bit longer than the originals too, so I had to use some washers to space out the bar-ends. It turns out they're not actually the same as Oxford ones, as they only have a high or low setting.  Low was fine below about 50mph (air temp was 7C), above that high was required.  I like them a lot, it should mean I can wear my summer gloves most of the time now (my winter ones are like oven mitts).

I discovered the Triumph battery was dead today; that'll be because of the poxy alarm and the fact it's not been used for some weeks.  It was time to bite the bullet and get a charger, so I bought an Optimate 3: It does all kinds of clever stuff, like de-sulphate neglected batteries - which will be useful for the MX5, which  was very dead indeed when I had to move it for the first time in months.  Plus you can leave it plugged in permanently. I also bought some heated grips from Hein Gericke for the VFR, a bargain at £30 as they appear to be re-branded Oxford ones (priced at £70).  Getting the old grips off wasn't difficult, but getting the left grip on was, it seemed to be about 2mm to narrow.  A couple of minutes submerged in very hot water expanded it enough to go on, but I hope I don't have to remove it ever again.  Throttle grip seems a better fit, just need to get some epoxy glue to fix it in place (it came with super glue but that's rather too permane

Now that I'm fully adjusted to the time difference, and even getting used to the weather, it's time to go home.  And I've not bought anybody a present as you can get everything in the UK for less money; I won't be popular. As it's way too hot for any civilised person, I've been using cabs to get about, even for short distances.  Only yesterday did I finally hit the jackpot with a ride in one of these ancient Toyota Crowns.  It was big, noisy and bumpy with a sea of black vinyl inside, just as you'd expect it, and with a driver who seemed to have less knowledge than me about local geography, it was TOTAL MEGASHITE!

Been in Singapore a week now, FED UP.  New office is close to completion, so I should be able to leave as scheduled and get some proper winter weather; it's better than this heat and humidity, at least with the cold you can put more clothes on. Stuff is expensive here - a new Subaru Imprezza is the equivalent of £56K, for instance!

It was just about cool enough this evening to go for a wander.  It's a spectacular city, there's no graffiti, no chavs, and everything is largely spotless.  There's also no obvious security; no police, no CCTV.  Strangely, no insects either.  It may actually be a Star Trek holodeck simulation.

I've felt quite unwell since arriving, I'm not very good at handling broken sleep.  I'm not really compatible with this kind of work, I like being at home with the family (and motorbikes).  Being stuck in Guildford wouldn't be all bad after all.  Managed 20 minutes in the office today before having to withdraw back to the hotel, but I'm full of orange juice and paracetemol now and feel almost human.  We went out for dinner this evening and had Chinese, I clearly need further chop stick lessons.  Especially included to freak out Russell - it's a seafood restaurant and yes, they're alive!  This is the F1 chicane with the high kerbs; it's surprisingly narrow A gecko we found running about on the pavement

I've been sent far away for another office installation, this time Singapore.  Nearly 13 hours on this: It's an impressively smooth and quiet plane, a long way from a Ryanair 737.  Business class too so had a nice cubicle on the upper deck that converted into a bed - it's still sleeping in a dormitory with a shared toilet though, isn't it?   It's 31C and 8 hours ahead of the UK, I'm feeling frazzled.  View from my hotel balcony, using the fancy landscape mode on my new camera: Should make a good photo after dark, assuming I'm not unconscious by then...

It does 16:9 photos and HD video.  Hopefully I'll have something more interesting to snap next weekend.

This entry is to remind me to service the Berlingo again at this time next year.  The service indicator has been bleating for the past 2500 miles so it was about time I did it; fully synthetic oil this time as it was cheap!

Took the opportunity to service the VFR this weekend; it's reached 38,110 miles.  It's had oil and filter, air filter has been cleaned (it's a pesky K&N), and coolant replaced.  I'd downloaded a service manual which helped, but wasn't very clear - I need to buy a Haynes manual.  The oil filter was a sod to get off, it's at the front of the engine and you can't get a proper grip; I tried the 'screwdriver through the middle' trick but that didn't work, it just ripped it; so in the end I had to buy a proper tool from Halfords (metal strap type, not the chain one).  It took me another 45 minutes to get the side panels back on!

I've covered a few hundred miles on the Triple now, and the most surprising thing is how much it's made me appreciate the VFR.  I still like the Triumph, but unless you're 'on it' it does get a bit wearing with it's razor-sharp throttle response, stiff suspension and crazy-short gearing.  The Honda is limousine-level comfort in comparison, and it's still first choice if I just need to get somewhere quickly.  Might chop the Triumph in next Spring, no idea what for though... I did see a Honda DN-01 in a dealer recently; it sounds pretty uninspiring to ride but look at it!

This is my birthday present to myself, a Triumph Street Triple.  It is the most fun thing ever, it makes me giggle all the time with it's crazy enthusiasm for going fast everywhere.  With it's fantastic rasping engine note and short gearing it feels like you're going impossibly quickly and a spell in prison is assured, but when you check the speedo you're not going that fast... well, probably within commuting distance of the speed limit, at least :)  Being a naked helps I suppose, but it does make it unsuitable for covering large distances, even maintaining 85-ish MPH takes some effort to hold on.  It cost £1000 more than the Tuono I looked at, but it's almost incomparably better.

Had a test ride of the Tuono yesterday... didn't like it enough to buy it.  Great engine, and it's surprisingly civilised, but there's a general feeling of 'shiteness' about it; the feel of the controls, the dash, it all feels a generation behind the VFR.  This particular example had a duff battery, broken speedo and barely legal rear tyre, which didn't help my perception. BMW was sold last night.  The advert on Pistonheads only got me 1 caller (who bid too low), but Autotrader had it shifted within 24 hours.  The guy bought it in the dark, and is driving it home to Romania.  I didn't sleep very well last night, a little worried that I'd sold a trusting young guy a car that would let him down, but I drove it all over the country without incident and I don't expect it'll have any bother with that trip.  Should be well suited to it, in fact - certainly better than the misery of a Ryanair 737.

I received an invitation for a NHS health check the other day, apparently they offer these to people of 'my age'.  Am I already reaching the burden-on-society stage?  I know I need more exercise and less cake, thank you.  This letter, combined with putting my back out for 24 hours earlier in the week, has made me feel very old.  For this reason I'm going shopping for another bike tomorrow, probably this: Aprilia Tuono.  I'm not keen on the gold detailing, the dash looks like something from a Chinese moped, and I probably shouldn't get it wet, but it sounds like a good companion to the competent but dull VFR.  The dealer has also got a couple of Ducatis that may be of interest. The BMW is up for sale, you should buy it!  Look how nice it is!  It's been made obsolete by the Picasso.

I'm back from another week in Poland.  Hire car this time was a Focus, and it was AWFUL.  How did Ford spend so much money developing such an underwhelming car?  Ride: dreadful.  Performance: pathetic (1.6 pez).  Interior: cheap.  Handling: soft. After a few days of misery an engine mount broke, so it was replaced with a Nissan Qashqai.  I loved that! Everything that was wrong on the Ford was right in the Nissan, it felt like it was developed by people who cared.  It still had a weedy 1.6 petrol motor, but I was able to overlook that.  Any car with Klingon-style ridges on the bonnet can do no wrong in my eyes. I had another guy working with me for a few days, so we visited all the restaurants in the town square.  I was initially adventurous and tried some local dishes, but after a few incidents (including my first and extremely unwelcome introduction to sauerkraut, below), I retreated to my usual charred meats.

The dead have been woken... the MX5 has been off the road for just short of a year now, but despite this it fired up immediately.  Almost.  Once I'd attached the start-charger to it.  I needed it moved so I could service the BMW, which is getting the chop next month. Not so long ago it was being inexpertly piloted around various race tracks, but now it's just a home for spiders.  Next year will be different though, it's returning to the road.  Just driving it 20-odd metres was enough to remind me what a great toy it is; the gearshift is lightening quick with tiny throws, the steering instant, the pedals firm and well-weighted. Thinking about going to the California Superbike School next week, quite a lot of money though. And here, for no reason whatsoever, are the pets living in harmony at the top of the stairs...

I replaced the fuel pump in the tank of the 530D yesterday.  It was quite fiddly and I couldn't find any useful guide on the internet, so I thought I'd create a quick outline of the procedure: Symptoms of failure : poor starting/cutting out when the fuel level falls to around a quarter of a tank. Cost : £42 from GSF , plus 2x 9mm petrol hose clips (the originals are not reusable). Procedure :  remove the rear seat base by pulling up sharply on it's front edge (there are a pair of spring clips holding it in place).  Beneath are 2 access panels to the tank, the pump is under the right-hand side one (behind the driver on a UK right-hand drive car).  Remove the cover and disconnect the 2 hose connections and the electrical plug (removed by pushing the locking clip sideways).  Unscrew the locking ring by gently rotating it with a hammer and chisel. Now slowly remove the fuel sender unit, noting it's orientation and how it slots into the pump assembly below - it'

It appears I was wrong about the old town, it's been largely rebuilt after being laid to waste towards the end of WW2.  You'd never know from looking at it though, so give me a break!  I've also become suspicious about the authenticity of a castle located near Paris, apparently owned by one 'Cinderella'. I'm back in the UK now, but other stuff I failed to visit was the cathedral (I'm a bit of an architecture enthusiast on the quiet), and fort VII , which was used by the Nazis as a concentration camp.  I'm not sure I'd actually want to see that, I'm now aware of this city's grim history and can't see it giving me a positive experience. Poznan is disappointingly non-Soviet.  Apart from the odd Polonez, everything on the road is recent Western European or Japanese.  The standard of driving is much better than I was led to believe too, it's certainly better than London.  The concrete tower blocks are still present but colourfull

This week I'm not on holiday in Poland; Poznan to be exact.  It's like Norwich, but with trams and an utterly impenetrable language. The centre of the city is very old and quite unspoilt despite it's past.  There's lots of great looking restaurants and cafes, I'd visit them if I could do anything with the language, and I wasn't on my lonesome. The only MX5 I've seen has been butchered for a sat nav demo.  This was in a shopping centre, and except for the language you couldn't tell the place from London or Washington; same brands, same decor, same big posters of George Clooney wearing his expensive watch.  Outside of this most stuff is very cheap though. I'm doddering about in this Golf diseasel.  I'm quite foggy on the rules of the road but I'm surviving, despite the sat nav trying to send me down one-way streets on several occasions.

We were on holiday in a little cottage near Falmouth last week, enjoying this magnificent English summer weather.  Here are some vaguely interesting snaps I took, mostly from the Eden Project which is ACE and highly recommended:  Vintage bikes at Flambards theme park:   ...and finally a seal from the Cornish Seal Sanctuary: The Picasso has got just short of 2000 miles on it now, yet it's filthy.  I was hoping it would gain a bit of horsepower with use, but it's still unenthusiastic about going anywhere quickly.

Monkeyboy is away with his school, so Mrs B and I took advantage of being free and visited Poole bike night... in her car.  Once the boy is old enough not to need us, then we'll consider doing the pillion thing.  Saw lots of stuff I'd like, but I'm getting quite interested in really old kit like this Norton:

Mrs B's new motor arrived today: It has many electrical gubbins and is very different to the Berlingo it replaces, in fact she may need to go on a course to learn how to use the 'dual-zone automatic climate control'.  There's cruise control too, I never really understood the point of that without an automatic 'box though. This means I am now official owner of the Berlingo, which has the following rare and desirable features: birdshit on the rear seat Brer Rabbit bookmark (he's wearing a tom'o'shanter for extra luxury appeal) gravel in the boot 2 weeks tax I've done well, haven't I?

It's a year today since I became a big boy and passed my bike test!  Apart from a speeding ticket the 13,000 miles I've covered since have been without incident, but I'm riding into THAT LONDON tomorrow so that'll likely change.  I need to get familiar with the city centre so I can ride in rather than using the train, as I may need  to work there during the Olympics.

Monkeyboy and I have pretty much lost the entire weekend to Minecraft , the primitive looking yet viciously addictive sandbox game.  It's simple enough - you're dropped into an uninhabited landscape with the aim of surviving.  You have to fashion tools, weapons, food and shelter... especially shelter, because when the sun goes down the monsters come out. I reckon the key to it's success is tapping into our ancient survival instincts.  It also reveals your horrible personality defects - I can't delegate anything but the simplest of tasks and I'm doing it in Minecraft too.  Monkeyboy got quite fed up with me ordering him to collect wood/buckets of water, whilst I got annoyed with his untidiness.  Hordes of zombies hammering at the door every night unite us in the struggle to survive though.