It certainly seemed like it. When in Birmingham my boyfriend has this uncanny knack of losing his sense of direction and short term memory. If you’re reading this to glean any more information about HRT stop reading now because all you’ll find out is just a taste of the trials and tribulations of classic motorcycle ownership and that frustratingly difficult thing known as the male brain.
Now if you’ve never been there, Birmingham can be a confusing place full of roundabouts and strange tunnels but you soon get to know the landmarks and gain a rough idea of how to get there and what direction you should take. So after googling Queen Elizabeth Hospital and printing out the map to for the owner of the male brain to analyse and remember I felt happy that I should get to my appointment on time. Silly me. Snag #1 “The rear brake light bulb has blown; I can’t go anywhere until I get a new one.” Fair enough, a small detour to the local bike spares shop. Sorted. Snag #2 The 30 year old example of Japanese engineering takes about 10 minutes to get started “I need to take it to get the ……(at this point I hear white noise) but we should get to Birmingham ok”. Good. We get to Birmingham but wait he takes a wrong turn and it just goes wrong, so wrong, somehow the old way of giving directions, a tap on the right shoulder and pointing to the left means turn left and vice versa, however in Birmingham it translates into go around the roundabout twice then go back on your self and completely ignore the road signs. We stopped and asked for directions twice, Pete listening intently but for me again I hear white noise. How did we become so lost?
Finally we arrive, both angry with each other , Pete also angry with the suffering, ageing bike which much prefers meandering ride outs and bike meets rather than battling with Brummie traffic. Have you ever had an argument with someone on a bike? A horrible experience. Unfortunately too late. I miss my appointment. I am livid. I am close to tears, tears of anger; it’s at times like these Pete’s glad of the protective plates in his jacket.
We go home. We get lost again. GGRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!
But all is not lost I call the lady who will be doing the HRT and have a talk, I ‘m feeling quite positive about this now and vow to take the train!
