Ancient history

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Well, it seems like a long time ago!

early 2ndschool university work198x work199x work200x

Back home in Coventry, I had nothing but rejection letters.
Having now graduated with a good grade, GEC were persuaded to take another look at me.
Feeling a bit more pressure now, I got into a suit for the day.
They gave me some electronics aptitude test which I excelled at.
I still didn't know what job I wanted to do, but they decided to give me a go, and put me into test strategy. I think they haven't regretted it.

Started work september 1981 at what was then GEC, later to become GPT, then marconi, then bought by ericsson.
Unfortunately, production moved E for lower cost, and eventually development followed, coming to an end in 2010 after 28+ years.
I have always worked in Test Strategy although the name of the department has changed a few times.
We defined test procedures (manual and automated), make and/or buy test equipment for the various telecomms products that we make.
These included fibre optics, microwave radio, PDH, SDH, OTN, DWDM, photonics etc.... er... are you bored yet?
For a while I moved into core software, and software has ever since formed part of the work.

Saved up my 1st few months pay and bought my 1st motor vehicle - an old Ford Escort van.
Looked at a few ex builder's vans that were horribly dented.
Eventually settled for something from a plant nursery (I think they didn't call them garden centres then) on the A45.
Generally good condition, but the sills were rotten with rust.
Only 1100 too. I had been used to driving my dad's 1300 before.
And it was (horrible) dark blue!
Adrian being into doing up lots of cars, we had the technology to respray it.
It was meant to come out poppy red, but ended up satsuma orange, with a matching texture.
I couldn't afford to buy more paint to redo it, and anyway the disruption at my parents' house while I did it meant it would be unwise to try.
Probably the only orange Escort van in Coventry.

1982

Next thing to do would be find somewhere to live.
At 1st attempt I went for a 100% mortgage from my bank, and they told me I needed £500 cash spare to cover the expenses of moving in.
I wasn't convinced, but had to go away and save the money.
When I came back, they had stopped offering 100% so I had to go away again and save the 5% deposit.

1983

In March I finally managed to convince a bank manager that I could afford it, and bought a flat in Coventry.
Had to change banks to do it.
A lot of 2nd hand furniture and white goods, but home.
Watched TV standing on the box it came in for a while.

Not long before I wanted to have my own cat(s), despite being friendly with the many that lived in the close.
Heard about some that were born locally and went to see. There was a litter of 4, 2 of each gender.
They wanted to keep the females. When I looked at the 2 males, I couldn't bear to separate them and ended up with both.
The mother was a black and white half siamese.
Mine were 1 complete black, the other black and white.
I don't really think there's much point giving cats names. They eventually became known as black 1 and black and white.
Black 1 had slightly siamese pointy ears and thin fur on the temples.
The only sign of siamese in black and white was the rather saggy belly.
I suspect they had different fathers.
Both turned out to be larger than average cats, although that just seemed normal to me.

1984

1985

My brother and friends came back from touring on motorbikes abroad.
Decided to learn to ride.
Bought my 1st bike - a red Kawasaki AR125.
Did some off and on road training in the centre of Coventry.
Did a lot of miles on that bike, learning about biking and windchill.

1986

Failed my driving test (bike).
Unfortunately my bike was vandalised a week before the test, so I had to hire a bike.
I had booked a test in Coventry, but managed to get an earlier date in Nuneaton (hoping to go abroad on a bigger bike that summer).
I had to do it on unfamiliar roads on an unfamiliar (hired) bike.
That's my excuse anyway.
I bought another (slightly older) AR125 (white) and took the Coventry test.
Passed this (2nd) time.
Too late to go on holiday

While my friends were away, I bought my 1st proper bike at the start of the new registrations in august - Kawasaki GPZ 600R.
A bit of a transition from a 125, but I wobbled off OK.
Adrian had gone from a 125 to a GPZ 900R.
This was the 1st new vehicle I ever owned.
I was extremely attached to it (still am).
Here's a picture (naff quality - pre 35mm camera) of it at bourton on the water, when it was new...

Still going well 27+ years and 62000+ miles later...

1987

Went abroad for the 1st time. 3500 miles in 2 weeks. Got as far as Sorrento. Adrian, Mark and me.

We had a vague plan of doing as much of Italia as possible, so decided to set out early, which meant straight after work on Friday.
Well, we didn't get away as soon as we would have liked.
I was already tired after being at work all week.
We stopped at South Mimms on the M25 for something to eat.
I managed to tip my tray off the end of the table onto the floor.
We didn't have prebooked ferry tickets, so we had to mess about a bit at Dover.
Finally crossed the channel, arriving in France about midnight.

Plan A was to find a camp site near to Calais.
Too late for that.
We decided to press on into France.
So my 1st experience of driving abroad on the other side of the road was in the dark. At least there wasn't much traffic about.
I think this was before the autoroute went all the way to Calais, so we were on the N roads.
It was rather eery driving through totally quiet french towns in the middle of the night.
It was OK at 1st, but (curiously) when it started to get light we were extremely tired and not very alert.
Those long straight northern france roads don't have many landmarks.
It was getting to the point of "I think I'll just close my eyes for a couple of seconds...".
At 1 point we burst onto a traffic island without time to stop if there had been something on it.
We decided to stop and have a rest.
I didn't know at the time, but having driven through it so many times since, I now know it was a little place called Inchy.
We just sat against a wall for a bit.

The sheer number of wartime cemeteries in the area is sobering and rather depressing.
When it got to opening hours we started looking for something to eat.
I think we just found a likely looking bit of civilisation.
For some reason, we had pulled into a side road.
In doing a multi point turn I managed to drop the bike on its side.
Adrian had already set off down the road.
A passing commuter helped me to lift it back up.
I couldn't lift it with the heavy tank bag still attached.
Somehow I managed to drop it on the other side too.
Massively tired.
Now with bent/broken brake and clutch levers and crunched indicator(s).
We found a cafe quite soon after that and had some very welcome food and drink.
I don't know exactly where it was, even though I have a photo, and must have been past it several times.
Out of the cafe, with the bike rather vertical on the edge of the camber into the gutter, loading the tank bag bag back onto the bike, I managed to push it off the sidestand.
Determined not to let it fall again, I put my foot under it.
Some vaguely sticky out bit in the vicinity of the sidestand did a good job of squashing my 2nd smallest toe.
Rather embarassed, we leapt on the bikes and headed off, planning to have a look at it later.
Putting some weight on it on the footpeg, something went crack, and It go a whole lot less painful. I guess it had been dislocated?

We stopped at Rocroi (normally the 1st ovenight stop, about 400 miles from home).
My toe looked sore but generally intact.
I think we had a look round the military museum (might have been another trip).
Later on in the day your body clock decides to make the best of a bad job and wakes up a bit.
We pushed on a bit, but I think we stopped reasonably early at my 1st french campsite.
I remember limping over to the services and back to the tent.
I used a couple of plasters to splint my toe to the 1 next to it, which helped a bit.
Don't know exactly where this was either, but I think we had breakfast next day in Sedan.

We headed in a more or less straight line through France for Italia.
I think it must have been France holiday week(s) too, as we had trouble sometimes finding places open to eat.
I think we had some horse soup in a bar. Our language skills were not up to finding out. Anyway that was all there was.
Mark never seemed to eat much, living mostly on packets of nuts.
I was amazed at how cheap municipal campsites are in the middle of nowhere, France.

Taking the direct route we had to go through Switzerland.
At the border they stung us for a 1 year motorway pass each. Decided to avoid it in future.
We stopped at some motorway services, and after translating the prices, shared a single plate of chips between the 3 of us.
At some services before the Italian border we tried to get some (cheap) petrol vouchers or something that we had read about, but the language barrier defeated us.
Here's a picture of me at those services.

Keeping to the autostrada for speed (I was a bit miffed as there was some nice looking country that we were whizzing past), we headed pretty well due south, eventually hitting the mediterranean coast somewhere in Genova. (I have done this road a few times since in hire cars for work driving from Linate aeroporto to Genova.)
Another landmark moment, to see a different sea so blue.
Anyway we couldn't stop.
Had to turn east out of the end of Genova, to find a campsite.
We stopped at a nice terraced site at or near Santa Margherita.
By this time we had got into a routine. I adjusted my chain.

Again, continued down the autostrada south.
At some point we pulled off, up into 1 of the hill towns looking for a bank. We didn't find 1, but it was worth the trip to see the view. I guess it was in Toscana somewhere.
We got around and past Roma.
We and had some trouble finding a campsite, ending up driving about in the deep darkness of unlit roads.
Eventually we found somewhere.
With some help from a german, we determined that there was only sea food available on the menu. We had a packet of crisps and went to bed.
In the morning we saw that we were actually right next to the sea.
I think it was just after Roma that I noticed the wonderful smell of Italia, just driving along the roads.

From then on we stuck to the west coast road, stopping for a dip in the sea.
Being on the coast, we ran into Napoli.
This was a fairly horrible experience, as it seemed to be mostly 1 big traffic jam, with locals trying to sell stuff to the captive audience.
Eventually we managed to get off the coast road and make some progress.
Another long day riding, and I was seriously tired and fed up when we finally stopped at a terraced camp site at Sorrento.
It had taken a week to get there.
We thought we had done well, but no - there were some english girls there who had done it in just a few days by sharing the driving in a van.
There were little lizards running around.

It was time to turn round.
Next day we managed to get the bikes safely back up the steep access to the road by removing the luggage, and carrying it up afterwards, then backtracked to Pompeii.
At last, doing the proper tourist bit.
By this time my head was seriously sun burnt and peeling. I bought a sun hat just ouside the Pompei site. A nearby cafe owner let us park the bikes on his premises.
My toe was reasonably OK by now, so I could have a good walk round - there is rather a lot of it. Impressive. Seriously hot though - I remember being very grateful of the drinking water fountains that were scattered around.
Same day we went up to see the volcano that had buried it - Vesuvio. No sign of any smoke, but lots of ash and an eery sound of falling rock in the crater.
Back up the coast.
1 campsite in particular I remember had particularly brackish water coming out of the taps. I think we had to buy some bottled stuff. Most of the time I was quite happy to drink the local water - usually seem to get away with it.

We rode back up to Roma, actually up part of the Via Appia, or Appian Way, which I think is where the followers of Spartacus were crucified.
We drove past lots of monuments the significance of which was beyond us.
We eventually managed to navigate the tiny streets to the Colosseum.
We took it in turns to watch the bikes and have a look. I think there was no charge to get in.
The triumphal arch next door was covered in scaffolding.
We didn't do the Roman Forum (I still haven't - must get round to it 1 day).
While waiting, some street trader tried to sell me a cast model chariot souvenir.
I tried to explain that I had nowhere to put it, but he seemed to take this is a challenge, and when he got down to some small fraction of the original price I bought it anyway (ended up on top of my dad's TV). I made some space in my tank bag somehow.
Again while waiting, some Italian attempted conversation. We somehow managed to have a little conversation in french. He had spent some time working in billericay.

At Pisa we again took it in turns to have a look at the tower. Adrian and mark went up it, but it looked a bit dangerous to me.

About this time, I got fed up with setting up camp, then having to ride into town to eat. Adrian and Mark went off.
I went to the site shop and by pointing, managed to buy a potato and some meat.
What I didn't know was that it was prosciutto crudo. I assumed it was off and left it.
Still, the boiled potato with a bit of salt was gorgeous.

Working our way back up the coastal road we eventually crossed back into France.
I remember feeling a cool breeze for the 1st time in a week,riding along in the late afternoon.
We drove through a bit of the Grand Prix circuit at Monaco and spent a while looking at the "money".
We found a camp site (eventually) somewhere round Cannes/Nice.
We stopped 2 nights there to have a token traditional day on the beach.

Going back from the beach I got stuck in traffic and lost sight of Adrian.
I went to where I thought the site was, but couldn't find it.
I found quite a few, and asked for a list (I couldn't even remember the name of it, and Adrian had the camp site receipt).
When I didn't recognise any of them I got quite worried and managed to drop the bike (stationary) a 3rd time.
Found a phone box and phoned the aa 5 star team, but there was little they could do.
Eventually I went back east and retraced our steps in searching for a site the night before.
When I found it Adrian and Mark had gone out looking for me.
No mobiles or sat nav in those days you know.

Next day we set off north through the french alps near Grenoble.
A lovely area. I had probably the best burger I have ever tasted at a roadside friterie around there. Also the camp site water tasted wonderful.
(I have since found out that this is actually part of the route napoleon.)
Having already paid for a motorway pass we might as well go through Switzerland. We had a quick look at the Geneva fountain.

Back up to Paris, we popped in to see my sister Amanda at Marcoussis on the way back (overnight).
We had a quick look at Notredame and the Eiffel tower before blasting back up the autoroute for home.
I managed to run out of petrol during this bit, and had a bit of trouble switching to reserve before I realised the need to prime the float chambers.

Here is a map of more or less where we went.

I felt a wonderful sense of achievement when we got back.
Also, I was struck by the European approach to everything, which was in many cases more sensible than ours.
The continent is very homogeneous in things, which makes the UK seem like the odd one out.
Anyway, I decided I wanted some more next year and decided to improve my language skills - I only had French, and that was quite rusty. I was a bit stuck in Italia when trying to buy food.
Nevertheless I decided to start with French and German which I perceived as more mainstream.
Since then it's become a bit of a hobby. I seem to be quite good at it, at least at the lower levels.
All of this has been at the Warwick University Language Centre, except some German, which I did at work.

Jes and I decided to tour Scotland in late summer ie. September.
As it turned out, by the time he and his bike were available it was October which made it not quite such a good idea.
We went anyway, setting off in the rain. We took the tents and never got them out, due to the rain every day.
We stopped in various bed and breakfast places and at least 1 hotel.
I remember doing battle with a strong crosswind on the way up.
We visited Edinburgh castle.
Jes' bike had just been created by dropping his Ducati Pantah 600 motor into a Harris frame.
South of Inverness (I think), it dropped its drive chain, laying it nicely on the road. It seems the chain guard had been vibrating and banging into the chain, gradually removing the link pins.
This was up in the snow capped hills. We found a transport cafe and called out the AA, who put the bike on a trailer and fitted a new chain in the next town.
We went up the east coast to John O Groats, which I found rather disappointing, compared to Lands End - the ground just gradually slopes down into the sea.

We carried on along the north coast visiting Dunnet Head and passing the Dounreay nuclear plant.
Looking at the rather daunting coastal road, we decided to head south, passing Loch Naver.
Then over to the Isle of Skye where Jes knew someone who could put us up for the night. It was dark by the time we crossed over on the ferry, and we had to be careful to avoid sheep that were lying on the road.
Next day saw the island shrouded in mist and rain so we headed south again.
My main memory of the trip is sitting on the bike in almost all of the clothes I had with me, slightly damp, but warm enough, trying to ride the bike safely with what I could see through all the rain droplets on the visor, in a rather disconnected sort of way.

1988

Went abroad again, this time with Jes and Bob.
Generally a much more laid back time, only 2500 miles in 2 weeks.
Got as far as Lago di Garda.

A long wait getting away from Dover.
Jes and Bob both had race framed bikes based on the Ducati.
Even before we left England we had trouble starting Bob's bike at Dover. I think the starter cable was abit underrated for the long run that it had to make. Jes found some wire at the port and hot wired it to get it going.
Heading out of Calais the sky looked ominous, and sure enough it soon started to piss down. Waterproofs on.
Given the delay and the weather we headed down the autoroute until we had to drop onto the N roads to head for Rocroi. It soon got dark and I led as the Kawasaki had the best headlight.
At some point I became aware that I wasn't being followed any more. After a short wait to catch up, I had to double back to find them.
Jes' bike was sitting there with no electrics in the middle of nowhere, northern France in the rain. Ducati electrics and rain don't get on well.
I can't remember how (maybe just waited for some water to drain out ?), but we eventually got it going again.
We eventually arrived at Rocroi, too late to get anything to eat, so we sat dripping on the floor of a bar and had a drink.
Not a good introduction for Bob to the delights of a Euro bike camping holiday.

Eventually the sun came out. We went through Deutschland, crossed the Rhein, through Osterreich into Italia, over the top of Passo Stelvio.
Here's a picture from the top of the Stelvio pass.

Have a look at the live webcam...

Down to Lago di Garda, Lago di Como, Varenna, Menaggio.

While sitting having a drink, looking at the lake Como at Menaggio, we met an English chap who was working in Milano and came up to the lakes at weekends.
He helped us out ordering in a ristorante.
I was surprised at how alive places like that become in the late evening with loads of young Italiani buzzing about on scooters etc.

Then back over the Grand St Bernard pass, Martigny, Chamonix, Paris.

Popped in to see my sister Mandy in Marcoussis on the way back.

Decided to start learning Italiano over the winter.

On these camping trips abroad I tend to adopt a c food diet...

coke
coffee
crisps
chocolate
croissants
cheese
crackers
crusty bread
chips
cupasoup

In fact, some of these have caffeine in, which, just in case your'e interested, looks a bit like this...

1989

Went abroad again, this time with Jes, Steve and Bob. Once again, only 2500 miles in 2 weeks, but more of a straight line down to central Italia. Got as far as Orvieto.

Just to show how much stuff you can't carry on a bike, I took a photo of all the stuff I was taking.
Tent, sleeping bag, waterproofs, security chain, bungees, tank bag (with maps), cooker, sandwich box (2) of bits and pieces, money, documents, water bottle, clothes.

Down through France, Lake Geneva, over the Grand St Bernard pass into Italia, down the Val d'Aosta.
Here's a picture of some cart track grooves in the old roman road up from Italia to France.

Down the centre of Italia to Cortona, Lago Trasimeno, Orvieto.
Then Bob's bike broke down (on a Sunday).
I towed it to the next town, where we found an open garage that agreed to store it overnight.
It's little adventures like these that give an opportunity to use my Italian.
We went on on 3 bikes to Pienza, where there were no campsites.
Spent the night down by an old church.
Curious noises in the dark, which turned out to be frogs splashing about in some nearby water.
Next morning over to the nearest bike workshop in Montepulciano, where we spent a lovely restful day waiting for ignition components to arrive.
Then on to Pisa.
Bob and I somehow got separated from the others, and accidentally visited Firenze on the way there.
We eventually found the others waiting for us on the obvious road into Pisa.

Back up through the alps, Briancon, Lake Annecy.

The gpz somewhere in the Alps. For me this is 1 of the best bits of touring abroad - clean air, and not too hot.

early 2ndschool university work198x work199x work200x