As new members of the group, it was decided that the ‘report into the Magny Cours trip’ should be undertaken (delegated to us by Irvine) by me ‘Steve… Red R1200GS, with the audacity to win a raffle prize on the first ever club visit’ and ‘Nigel… Blue Tiger, estate agent…nuff said’. And I must start with an apology to all who were probably expecting to see something about the trip before now…truth is turmoil descended upon me arriving home, and this is the first opportunity that we have had to put pen to paper as such.

Let me start by explaining that this was our first ever trip abroad on bikes, and we only got on the trip, as late replacements for a couple of unfortunates who couldn’t make it.  We were full of trepidation about having our riding skills under the microscope, excited at the prospects of a ‘Road Trip’ and curious to know who we would be sharing the experience with. 

For us it really started on the night in the Poynton MCC, when Irvine handed out the ferry tickets.  I opened mine (Steve) and all I had got was the ferry ticket going on Thursday, then Nigel opened his and he had the ticket going on Friday…but he also had 3 pages of full and detailed instructions on how to get from the ferry to somewhere in France…joking I told him he was on his own, and that I’d see him when he got there ‘around Christmas’, he was displaying all the characteristics of the condemned man, but we were assured that the group he was travelling with would look after him. 

Well that night we met some of his group… one was apparently half of a chuckle brother’s variety show, another told us that he had an alter ego called ‘tigger’?  I thought to myself that’s why Nigel’s got the directions, Irvine was expecting he’d need them when they all abandon him off the ferry.  The Friday lads did however assure us though, that they would be the ones having the better time of it, and indeed it was me travelling on Thursday who’d be ‘losing the will to live’ with, travelling with ‘Captain Slow’, who the hell is that we thought?  Well at the last minute and much to his relief, Nigel did manage to change his travelling day to the Thursday, so that meant we would be going together… although we’d be setting off about 2 hours after the main group had left from Poynton, little did we know then what an experience that we were in for…. 

Let me tell you it didn’t start off so well for me… I’d put my luggage on the bike and had got my wallet handy for a fill up in Poynton, leaving it handily placed on the panniers and ready to go into the pocket.  Got to the Texaco petrol station, put the petrol in and then realized…the wallet containing about ‘£600’, had not made the journey with me to the garage, it had instead bailed-out somewhere near to the Poynton High School, or on Dickens Lane, nowhere to be found.  To say I was gutted is no exaggeration… I was inconsolable for the next 250 miles, and was the longest I’d ever gone without talking to anyone, it was a blur.   We arrived in Portsmouth, cold, wet, and miserable, with Nigel not knowing what to say to me and, with me having a face looking like a bulldog chewing a wasp.

At the port Irvine told us we’d have to board the ferry, and then get the cabin room key from John…Maroon Triumph, as John would be sharing with someone else, and we’d have his cabin.  Little did we know it then, how our trip would become so entwined with John, you see after giving up his room for us on the ferry, John also did the very same on the return ferry trip, he also fixed Nigel’s bike when it developed an oil leak, and in return… Nigel nicked John’s bed in the hotel on the first night, when 'Silvie' the chambermaid / female shot-putter, dragged the bed in to our room for him instead, not knowing but caring less, that it condemned John to sleep on a chair in the bar, and when the balloon went up about the nicked bed, Nigel just fell about laughing…what a star…and John you were a real trooper mate. 

Once on the ferry I had the phone call which changed my whole outlook for the rest of the trip, the police had got my wallet, ‘MONEY INTACT’ and was waiting to be collected in Macclesfield, some guy had handed it in, having picked it up on Dickens Lane…how lucky was that!

I’m getting ahead of myself a bit here, because still not really knowing anyone, we got to St Malo disembarked from the ferry, pulled in and waited until we were all together, ensuring that we went in convoy…great.  We were being led by a guy, who we later affectionately came to know as ‘Chingachkook’ leader of the famous lost Indian tribe the ‘Werthefekarwi’ , as several times later on we got the ‘circle the caravans sign’ (u-turns), or a left, a left, and a left turn (also u-turn, but when no space on too a narrow road).  At certain times he appeared to possess the directional skills of Mr Magoo, using information supplied to him by someone from the RAC whilst they were on ‘crack’…Geoff you are a real gem and a mate…But you did leave us! 

When we left the port and set off, as I recall we did about 4 or 5 roundabouts still together, then hit a main road still together, and then someone at the front went somewhere that some others behind didn’t… and then it was like opening a kitchen drawer and finding loads of cockroaches…they just scattered everywhere, ditching the estate agent and the fat-git on the 1200 GS in the process.  We were gob-smacked, but further ahead in the gloom that had descended we could see a familiar bike in front, Irvine and Paul stopped in a lay-by, with John following on. 

From that moment onwards, I decided that Irvine and I were to become Siamese, if he raised a bum-cheek I was there right behind him…he was going nowhere without me and Nigel, and I knew that he was all that separated us from catastrophe.  Unfortunately Irvine hadn’t managed to find his bearings straight away, and so we rode around for a bit, stopped and read some directions he’d got, rode around for a bit more, stopped again, rode a bit more, we might have been a bit lost, but we didn’t care, because we were on holiday, riding our bikes and we had Irvine who knew everything.  Eventually Irvine declared that we had initially gone on the wrong road out of the ferry port and that we needed to find a route to ‘Saumur’.  I told Irvine that I’d brought a GPS unit but wasn’t sure how old the mapping was, and if he wanted me to try it perhaps we could give it a go.  Somehow I then ended up in front, leading us to somewhere I’d never been to, reading the out of date maps on the GPS, chucking it down with rain, having to keep an eye on them behind, in case I left them at lights somewhere, it was like the blind leading the blind, and if I’d cocked it up, we could have ended up in Switzerland!

Eventually we got to ‘Saumur’ long after the others had arrived, but whilst they were still at ‘lunch’.  As we got seated I revelled in the thought, that now re-united we would be travelling together, no more of the them and us!  It was at this point that ‘Chingachkook’ with a glint in his eye, announced that they were setting off again, and that they would see us there…HE WAS LEAVING US AGAIN!!  With a cursory glance they were gone, he had left us and it was beginning to look suspiciously like there was some reasoning for this course of action.

We left Saumur, Irvine back leading in front, with me still Siamese, Nigel and John following behind, and finally we were beginning to chill-out.  The weather had relented and we were back in biking holiday mode, all was well…that was for the first 2 hours.  It was okay in fact until the sun disappeared, then it became a bit of a drag, it was cold and we got wet again.  We were making progress I suppose, but it seemed to take forever…suddenly the phrase ‘Captain Slow’ came to mind and it wouldn’t go away…  When finally we were approaching 8.30pm, and we still hadn’t arrived at our destination, I think that I knew whom it was that the other lads had jokingly been referring to.  This was later confirmed when we’d been riding so slow that we where overtaken on the main road, by a very irate French farmer driving a tractor towing a hay trailer (it was actually an artic, but don’t let that get in the way of a good story) and I was for one moment wanting the earth to open up and swallow me down…it was totally embarrassing!  ‘Captain Slow’ said that it was for our own good, as he didn’t want us to miss the turn into the hotel….

We finally arrived at the hotel at 8.45pm, after nearly 12 hours on the bike and, the others had arrived a long time before us, the lads were gloating and revelling in having had several beers more than us.  It left us with no time other than to wash our hands and to sit at the dinner table.  I don’t know if it was the relief of getting there in one piece, being tired or having a beer and relaxing, but it wasn’t long before we were all giggling like kids.  In fact some of the lads who went out on that Thursday turned out to be a great laugh…There was ‘Charles De Gaulle’ our French menu interpreter Graham…Then there was Keith who welcomed us to the ‘Gay Bikers Trip’ and who kindly offered to introduce me and Nigel to our first experience of ‘Man Love’, which we graciously declined.  It wouldn’t have worked though, because he was on the same night seen kissing another bloke.  Now neither me nor Nigel would have been looking for a commitment, but he’s a bit quick with changing his affections…There was ‘Chingachkook’ Geoff who had left us, did I mention that already… And so the night went on…it was great and they were a really good bunch of lads, with funny stories, some about the other lads who would be coming on Saturday night, including tales of lads sleeping rough in gent’s toilets at Donnington, camping in sub-zero temperatures etc… I didn’t know really what to expect when they arrived.

On the following day, most of the lads went on a bike ride into the Lapalisse Mountains, which was fantastic, with long sweeping roads and good bends, great weather and skilfully lead by ‘Chingachkook’ it was a great day out.  So much so, that some of the lads would quite happily have forgone the WSBK the day after and, instead gone for another ride-out in the French countryside, it was that good.

When we got back we had enough time to get a couple of beers, before the other group of lads arrived…around 6.30pm errrhumm!  Not knowing what to expect when l saw some of the lads…well they looked like ‘bikers’ a rum lot, with a personal appearance from a ‘Rick Mayall look-alike’.  But in a moment of clarity, I suddenly found that I was really pleased that they were there…because I’d then remembered that I’d forgotten to put the alarm on at home (only joking lads).  Indeed my only real regret about this trip was that because we’d travelled in 2 groups, we didn’t really get the chance to talk to those lads who’d arrived on the Saturday, and to be honest they always seemed to be having a good giggle about something, it would have been nice to get to know them a bit more, perhaps next time eh?  It  followed that it was another epic night at the dinner table, this time with wine as well as beer, and also Calvados thrown in for good measure, a good meal and loads of fun, although on reflection I do think that Keith is a bit of a lightweight when it comes to eating food!  He can only eat 4 potatoes more than a pig!

The day of the WSBK some of the lads were starting to feel the effects of the night before, the ride-outs or, the poor sleeping conditions and it had caught up with a few who managed to fall asleep during the racing…I think that they just about caught Bayliss doing his thing, just about.  Some didn’t however join in with the Frenchies Mexican wave though!  What was that all about!  Oh and if you ever go to the WSBK trip to Magny Cours, and someone recommends you to try the ‘Tartiflett’, be warned it is revolting, its a combination of potatoes, cheese, onion and ‘Yak’ vomit, just what you need…not!

We would like to thank all of the lads who were on the trip, especially Irvine, for making this a truly memorable experience.  The company has been great, the ride-outs spectacular even in the poor weather, the hotel and staff warm and friendly and, if invited back again, I’m sure we would be honoured to join you all again.