Our very own Londonbikers posse hit the roads of France. The quiet town of St Omer, which is bout 25 miles from Calais, was the destination for the weekend of fun, frolics and ride-outs. Their meeting point was at a service station on the M20 in Maidstone, Kent, where they then made their way towards Folkestone and the Euro Tunnel. The storey begins,
LB’s ThaNutz documented the weekends up’s, down’s, laughs and missions…
Words by Anil, aka ThaNutzSaturday The meeting time was 6.15am at Maidstone in Kent. Oh crud its 5.30am, pitch black and I've just woken up; I better get a move on. A quick visor change (didn’t think it would be this dark) sh*t, shower, shave and suit up and I was on my way. Wheeling the bike out the garage I look around to see if any of my neighbors are awake, they haven't complained yet about a few early bike starts, I didn’t want this to be the first! I started her up and roared into the early morning’s dark sky, the destination was the A127 to Dartford.
After flooring it for about 30 minutes, my heart stopped racing as the fear of being left behind subsided. I was a little behind my own personal schedule, but was still set to make good time. After reaching Maidstone services at a not to unreasonable 6.30, I fuelled up and started to chat to Zephr Steve, his son and Mick (Chilledandsorted). I'd seen better weather, but we were all adamant that we weren't going to let this ruin our weekend.
Just as I thought, ‘maybe I’ll take a slash' at 6.46am, a hoard of bikers pull up in front of Maidstone services lead by Charley. He points at his watch, crap; I better get suited and booted. A blast down the M20 got us to Folkestone at 7.10am, checked in and in duty free by 7.20!
The introductions began with me meeting LSD, (Llewellyn) our translator for the weekend! After some admiration and general 400cc loving, it was time to fuel up, (me, not the bike). No MacDonald's! We’re off to a bad start already! Flatout (Simon) discovers a flat on his R1 rear, some choice plugging and it’s still flat! Luckily Barro (Dave) knew of a petrol station just across the water, so the general consensus was, to fill up his tyre and get to the nearest French garage. Some slow riding had to be done until we boarded the train.
Victim one of 'lets switch off his engine when their not looking' gag, was Svstreetfighter (Paul). To be honest, it was the lamest one of the three times I managed to pull this off; and it didn’t cause any disruption… a waste of time really.
Regardless of the time that everyone had booked their weekend away, all managed to get on the same train and we started our journey to France, nice. The beers were cracked open and Ginger, patched up Flatout's tyre the only way he knows how - tape! 40 minutes later and we arrive in France, the sky was clear and it was still slightly damp. The search for Flatout tyre began after a quick fuel and air fill up at the ‘Total’ garage, just outside Eurostar terminal.
Credit has to go to Ginger and Adam H for helping Flatout. Pulling up into a garage with Charley in the lead, they both spot the Suzuki 'S' (which stands for ‘super’ by the way!) and ride up to the front doors. The dealer is open and fits tyres, Michelin, what a result! Especially seeing as this was what Flatout required. Flatout then bent over to take a price roasting, after not being able to shop around for a tyre… €290 I believe and that was just for the rear!
It was time to go to the hotel and drop off our luggage. Mattcbf600 typed the address into his Tomtom ‘sat-nav’ and it informed us that our particular route went through a number of toll roads, we had no idea of what was to come…
As we came off our first stint of motorway our first toll booth appeared, the gate was open and the light shone green. A few bikers slipped through and someone had clocked on to us and the barrier dropped. Do we pay? Don’t we pay? How much is it? What's going on? These were just a few questions that were going through my mind. It seemed like we needed to go in one at a time, pay separately and press the assistance button every time we went through. Luckily LSD was on hand to translate as my key phrase of 'Je Voudrais un glace' or 'Je parle Anglais' was simply not enough. Another 20 miles of motorway and yet another toll! WTF… They don’t pay to use to M25 when they are in the UK! So to sum that up my pocket was 3 euros lighter and although I said please and thank you the lady at the 2nd toll was rude and idiotic!
Never the less we arrived at the hotel. The corner man system was effective and was used through out the weekend…. It was a right result that no one got lost!
As everyone checked in to Formula 1 hotel, (a quality establishment by the way) I was informed that Adam H had said GSXRoss (Ross) could stay in the room that I had I booked! Nice of him to do that I thought! Something had terribly gone wrong with the reservation, and all 3 of us were homeless – our thanks go to the ACCOR Hotel! You completely surpassed yourself by not being able to take a booking on the MasterCard that I use every day.
So, with all three of us homeless, and no rooms left, it was down to some serious begging. All of our prayers were answered by LSD who kindly offered me the bunk, Adam’s by Danno and Ross by Ginger. Newbie Bladester (Andy) was housed by Rizla SV (Ness). Sorted! Now it was time to Ride!
Hunger was setting in and I was informed that we were going somewhere nice for lunch so, I played the waiting game. Some of the group couldn’t and the roar of Adam’s GSXR could be heard from Formula 1 hotel all the way to the local MacDonalds, were I'm sure he must have devoured his fair share of 'Le quarter pounders'.
Off we went into Arques town where a nice cold beer had my full concentration and the local sandwich shop was completely raided for food. Not the steak and chips I was hoping for, so a raw cheeseburger had to suffice. Ginger who insisted the lady fancied him, ordered the 'Love Burger', no one to this day managed to workout what the contents were that classified the 'love', but we have our suspicions… Ginger still wolfed it down.
A few members headed out for a light ride, whilst the rest of of the group returned to the hotel to relax. After five minutes of decent weather the heavens opened up, it rained very, very heavily. Our back tyres were all over the place as the roads turned to glass, luckily Barro manned up and said 'fook this!'. Unfortunately, Flatout and Adam H and gone down some random road and the corner man system had broke down, (probably because Charley wasn’t there to shout at us). Back to the hotel it was then, very slowly. It was now time for a shower and we hung up our leathers to dry. Luckily, Juggernaught (Adam) and Danno had already done a beer run, so we all chilled out outside the hotel for a few cold ones. Unfortunately, it came the time to say adios to our day tripper Svstreetfighter. Goodbyes were said, tears appeared and hugs greatly appreciated as he rode into the sunset in true movie style.
Unluckily for him, the best was yet to come! Two hours later, the roars of a yellow R1 and GSXR cause a cheer to all those chilling outside.
Everyone was looking their best and somewhat satisfied from a good ride down from Folkestone, regardless of weather. Ginger went all out (on the pull were we!) with a shirt that needed a little TLC (that’s me being polite). Luckily MatCBF600 was armed with a choice weapon… A sewing kit! To which he repaired a now naked Gingers bottom button. Next stop ‘le shite’ for dinner.
The restaurant had a few issues. I think the language barrier was the problem. Service was slow, me and Mick (Chilled and sorted) waited 2hrs for our mains. It was a tastyish steak but by no means worth the money or time. Never mind… We all go for bad meals every now and then, so time for a drink. A few liqueurs that were raved upon by Bladester (Andy) and I was fast reaching my limit. Andy however, (so he says) had some more and a few more from the metre (read on…).
A few beers later and the ‘Squadie’ as he is now to be referred (Adam H) began the long list of antics that made the night very enjoyable. I sadly did not witness of all of them but can never the less here is the low down!
Squadie Tasks: 1) Enter a Gay Bar
2) Buy a drink in Gay Bar
3) Give the eye to a few Gay Guys
4) Visit the toilet
5) Get naked
6) Walk out jeans and T shirt in hand
7) Collect the £70 in bet money (did he actually manage this)
8) Order a metre of beer
9) Drink the beer
10) Hide the miter long glass in a bush
11) Nearly make the cabby crash by shouting 'Stop' and get the glass out of the bush and into the cab!
Squadie accomplished all tasks!
Meanwhile back at the hotel Barro, myself and Sean arrived back. Lady Pillion Rider (Christine) had gone to sleep earlier due to illness but we still fancied a couple. Sean informed us of the hotel next to us had a bar… 'Let’s go check it out'. We walked to the hotel across the road and we discovered an open door, no receptionist and just a microwave… More than we had in our hotel, but no bar! Back to F1 and to sleep for me!
To finish off Andy threw up in the corridor of F1 woke RizlaSV up and passed out promptly, well done! Roll on Sunday…
Sunday 'Let’s hit Maccy D’s' I shouted to Adam from the parking lot, Ginger, Sean and Lady Pillion were all ready to accompany me. As I went to unchain the Gixxer I remembered that Ross chained all the bikes together, fine, let me go wake him. Oh crap where is he??? Ginger reported that he never returned that night and it was now 10am. Luckily the keys had been left behind, so while the others got ready, Adam, Ginger, Sean, myself and Christine went to MacDonald's.
After about 3 mandises, (a pancake the size of my little finger filled with Nutella) I was fuelled and ready to go. My god, they were awesome. Ginger and Christine agreed, and had their fare share too.
We return to the hotel to find Ross had still not returned, and it had gone 12! It was now time to head into town and see what the situation was. Me, Charley and Ness rode to the nearest Hospital to find it was deserted, and then onto the nearest Police Station. The rest waited in the centre while LSD asked around a few bars. The police called the local hospitals and it was confirmed that there had been no sightings of him. We returned to the hotel for a brief stop, as MatCBF600 had taken Ross's gear, just in case we found him and needed to bring him back.
We returned to the hotel to find Ross fast asleep, he didn’t have a phone, so he couldn’t contact us. The story as he told us was that a young French lad by the name of Pierre seduced him in a back early, played with him and they shared a few sweet French onions! Make of that what you will!!!
We headed down to Le Toucan, a place by the beach which had been visited on a previous
LB trip, for a nice meal and an ice cream. The ride was fantastic the weather perfect for riding, dry, not too sunny and amazing twisty roads. Victims two and three arrived at two choice stops. Mick (RedVFR) managed to fall for the 'look over there' before I clicked his engine off switch and sped off! Bladester was a little trickier to fool but not quick enough to stop me! A slight turn of his head and the Bladesters engine was off, and I was gone! He responded with his middle finger in what can only be described as a questionable over-take. The corner man system was in full force and we all arrived with no problems there was smiles on everyone's faces. Bikes parked and time to re-fuel the body!
After the mini fiasco in the previous restaurant, we split up onto different tables and ate some what separately. The food and service was spot on, and the rump steak was a real treat. The one complaint that had to be made was once again due to the language barrier:
Flatout: "I would like a tea?"
Waiter: "Would you like lemon tea, green tea, Indian tea, ginger tea, French tea?"
Flatout: "Errr… I'd like a tea... English tea"
Waiter: "Hot tea, cold tea, luke warm tea?"
Flatout: "Hot!!!”
The waiter returns with Earl Grey tea.
Flatout: "No, no… I just want normal tea!!"
Waiter: "Ah yes, simple tea"
Flatout: "Yeah that’s the cookie"
After a lovely meal, we got back onto the bikes; it was time to hit some more twisty coastal roads. With Charley leading and Zephr Steve and his son at the back of the pack, some stopping off for some choice photos and the LB challenge!
Ginger, your mission should you chose to accept it is to trespass on a private farm (where you may be shot) and roll a Hay ball down a hill that has probably taken the farmer ages to do. Challenge accepted and completed… with no shootings!
Back to the hotel now and it was time for quick beer run by Ginger, Flatout, Ross (he was awake by this time!), Adam and moi. A crate of beer in the back pack and two on Gingers bike, there was even space for a few bottles of wine. We found somewhere for a quick bite to eat and back off to the hotel to chill with a few nice cold beers. Some of the group went out and some stayed in, but by midnight all were in the hotel lobby chilling with a beer discussing Ginger's sex life. (Don't ask), and Danno passed the gay test (again, don't ask). Andy and Mick, peckish from the drinking nipped over to the other hotel to abuse the microwave and returned with a load of uncle bens microwaveable rice! I thought, I’ll leave them to it… Off to bed for me!
Onwards to Monday!!! The final day was a little bit of a downer initially. Heavy rain all of the night before, made at least myself a bit weary as to the quality of the ride to come… Wrong! The rain held up for most of it and only towards the middle of the journey, prior to a long stop was it of any major concern.
Some breakfast was needed and I fancied a few more Mandises. Ross was asleep and I didn’t want to wake him so I went pillion with Bladester - the first time I'd ever been a passenger! The guy was gentle and I didn’t feel unsafe at any point but, was more aware of the speed on the small stretch of motorway. Cheers mate tops stuff!!
The bikes were loaded up and we headed to a museum, then to some grave site for those lost in WW1. Once again a lovely ride out and a nice Panini outside the museum sorted my hunger out! A few select stoppies and rolling burnouts by Adam and it was onto the burial site, where the rain became a touch heavy! The stop provided invaluable as the rain cleared up, coffees were on the go and a nice video on WW1 was watched.
Time was pressing on, and it was time to think about getting back to Calais. We had no choice but to hit the motorway, a €5 levy but still 80 miles less of a journey. Lets Roll… With only forward facing cameras, there was nothing to loose. MatCBF600 took the lead and was a hard act to follow. I saw 150mph on the clock and still hadn't caught him. A quick stop and a chat outside the toll in a lay-by and LSD was low on juice. Charley the man prepared for every situation had a petrol ciphering kit and took some fuel from ginger and assisted LSD. Having managed to leave my rucksack (with my passport on the side) I jumped on the bike and was ready to roll.
“Whose bag is this?” Ross shouted, “Oh f*ck that’s mine!!” I replied. Everyone laughed, but better that than my passport wallet and all the rest missing! Phew, that was a close one.
Off to Calais and we reach the petrol station just outside, and in good time to check in. Fuelling commenced, but not before all of us one by one had to leave our passport at the counter… What a load of ********!!! Never mind, we got our fuel and began the check in process.
Oh no, not again, as I looked into my bag for my return ticket. 'Crap I've lost it!' Oh, wait you don’t need it! Thank god for that!!!
The queue was long and with 18 bikers it wasn’t moving all that quickly. I was second to last with Ross at the rear.
GSXRRoss: "My bike wont start"
Anil: "Don’t talk sh*t"
GSXRRoss: "It wont… Look!"
Anil: "Uh oh… Check in, I’ll push it and well bump start it..."
Bike:" Cough, cough…… Cough, cough, bang vrooooooooooom" She lives…. Thank god!!!!
At to Duty free, the last of the Euros were spent and there was some very cheeky filtering to the front of all the queues. Cagers were hooting all over the place at us! Do we care? Hell no!!!
Flatout made it just by the skin of his teeth to get on our train as us, after he had gone into a longer queue… That was too close for him, as everyone had boarded the train. Ginger discovered that he had dropped his passport along the way, to which he said, "Who cares… I’ll just get another one".
The final leg was spent reminiscing of the good times we’d had over the weekend, followed by a fuel stop and a goodbye to one and all at the petrol station. MatCBF600 caught up with me at the toll at the Dartford Tunnel and he, is the final goodbye I make before reaching home and falling asleep.
What a weekend! Till next time!
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