Pedro

You think someone around here is squealing that you had it tuned?

I tried to do that but ended up with a tiny picture, like a stamp. Where do you copy from?

Bit surprised to see a fee of the comments so I'll write a few words and won't visit the replies. Firstly, my thoughts were of someone who went to see a different country, I've had a connection with a few brits since forever and always got along with people from the UK but never really been around their country. It's a view from someone foreign, take it or leave it but it's honest. It's not meant to be an insult or I wouldn't have posted it here. The knife event, sorry but you're full of crap. When I asked the guy patting me down leaving to Santander and asked if he didn't want to empty my clearly full jacket pockets out, he simply looked at me and said "This is all bollocks, mate". They're patting down legs and leaving out armored jackets, taking away folding lockable blades in multitools while searched in one bag while the other is unchecked for a gun. Searching a foreign biker's case while motorhomes carrying full kitchens with proper blades inside go unsearched. They're just following strict rules instead of trying to disarm real potential threats. Train them, have them ask the same questions and look at peoples responses and gauge for a threat and then target that, don't just tell them to partially pat down "everyone". The leatherman? I couldn't give a shit about the thing except it's an object I liked. It was only taken away because it was an untrained subcontracted person doing a job she's not qualified to do. That's the opinion of the company running the ferries, not mine. All other bikers weren't searched, all of them loudly told them they were carrying similar tools, they were ignored. That was simply wrong. You think speed cameras are what I or Sofia were commenting about being opressive? They weren't, it's all the cctv stuff going about, all the signs threatening to prosecute with cctv footage. CCTV cameras filming roadworks, drainage holes and cabbage gardens, that's insane. I'm sorry a few of you think this is an attack on your country. I do like the UK and more than that, I like the UK people or else I wouldn't be here, it's a view on a foreign country by someone who visited it, just happens to be my view and your country, or countries. Most of my opinions were an observation on something purely different to where I'm from, I'm sure if I visited the US, Russia, Australia, or China I would different observations on them as well. I am happy to say I was well treated and had an overall good experience, as I'm sure I would have on most places. I will tell you something I didn't write before though, I am sorry for most of the over 60 people I've talked to, they're lost in their own country and it's just not a matter of money. If this turns into an offensive thing for you all, many of whom I consider friends although never having met them in person, I'll just delete the words and keep the pictures in the report. PS: bacon butties if with coffee, prosciutto sandwiches if with beer or wine!

We did, why?

Still hoping for an enhanced sunset to bring this back to the golden days before all this negativity arrived.

Stop asking questions and just go take one of your 15 bikes out for a tide and take a picture. 1 picture!

Gives him a chance to go out by himself and see the views… I mean the menus, on restaurants…

What gets me is that sometimes I can upload them from my laptop to here just fine, other times it complains about format.

He’s got the door open. If I do that the black parts of my bike get dusty! I love a clean bike, just hate washing them.

Class! And that’s a proper clean bike!

Tomorrow's the weekend, and it's sunny...

26 pounds is 11kg. My 2015 R1200GS Adventure is supposed to be 260kg with fuel, a 2021 R1250GS Adventure is supposed to be 268kg with fuel, so basically they added 8kg with adding clever valve wizardry. They now go through all that effort and revolution to drop 11kg, and that includes a lithium battery that by itself saves a good 2 or 3kg? In effect their revolution makes the ultra light new bike similar in weight to my bike, and ditching a steel rear frame for a pressed sheet one? I see a revolution in profit margins, that what I see

I'll be washing the bike, and maybe going over to Porto and give Emerson Fitipaldi a hand shake, because that's how I roll.

It still has to be an horizontal picture, though. Do you find those mirrors cumbersome passing cars in traffic? Sofia hates hers.

I like this one with the horses.

That never stopped Pete before

@Six30, you´re welcome to join in, with a picture from September Maybe try and win it, just to mess with the tantrum boy.

She was lucky, it's dog poo...

@Saul, @Sofia, @Clive, @Renegade, get in. @Sir Fallsalot, how about rejoining? Clean slate and all.

I'm curious about this, they seem to have gotten a little heavier from the 1200 to the 1250 by adding the shift cam weight. Now they make a big revolution all about loosing weight and 26 pounds is all they get? Hmmm

I'm honestly jonesing for Morocco, dry and dusty, and also with cheap meals and petrol ...

Submit your pictures for September BOTM here, please. Due to the short notice I'll run this thread until tomorrow night at 21:00 UK time and then voting will be done until the 01st October 21:00 UK Time. Submit more than one picture if you want, for the vote I will only consider the last one you post in this thread of your bike, taken in September. @Marcel, @Skippy, @MooN, @XTreme, @Buckster, @boboneleg, carrying on from Buckster I can consider the pictures he picked, below, if you prefer you are welcome to submit any others maybe not on a patio being washed? Lets all just get along...

The last night in the little pub was a nice way to say goodbye to the UK, people were as nice as they could be, great sense of humor, good happy vibe inside, great food, all the right things and that made us happy. Riding from there to Plymouth was but a 20 or 30 minute ride, we had plenty of time and took a little detour, rode through lovely little valleys and past hidden streams, entering Plymouth through residential streets. Stopped at a pet shop to buy a pair of toys for the puppies waiting at home and just like that we were in the Port. We were asked to be there at 12:00 or sooner, and we were the first bikes to arrive at little past. Nobody in sight and only a couple of cars there, this was going to be a long wait. Check in eventually opened and by 12:50 we were in the proper port, still no boat in sight and quite an empty parking lot, I struggle to find a reason they try to make people arrive early if it's just to sit around for hours. A very interesting group of bikes showed up, a BSA4, an old BSA and a new BSA, first time I saw one of the new ones in person. They look alright. I found it funny that the new one had canvas luggage while the old one had a plastic top case By 14:00 it looked like a boat full of bikes in the parking lot Eventually we did board, and being one of the first bikes on board, we made it to the cabin in time for a quick shower and then a walk around the ferry while cars were still driving in. We did have a little sunshine on the port, but the winds were picking up substantially when we were leaving, the sea looked sloppy and Sofia, 2 pills into her sea sickness management wasn't looking too happy. The rugby was on, Scotland vs Toga? I don't really know anything about rugby but it gave me an excuse for a couple of pints. Sofia retreated to the cabin, as laying down helps with the sickness. After a while I felt guilty and joined her, outside it was looking very different to the blue skies and sea we had sailing here, the wind was really very strong and I had to hold onto my phone with both hands to take a picture. By dinner time we did brave it to the restaurant, I went and picked a couple of salads and a couple of pieces of bread, it was a little bit of a challenge to carry that tray without bumping into stuff, the boat was rocking a fair bit. Sofia quickly regretted her visit to the upper decks and ran to the cabin to throw up, leaving me with a vast amount of salad. Again, the one with the burrata is the only edible thing in this boat apart from the breakfast croissants, there had to be an advantage of sailing on a french company and it surely wasn't the friendliness of most of the staff. While I'm eating, a huge amount of plates crashes in the kitchen, two or three people tumble and drop their dinner plates, and people were all walking crooked. Back in the cabin, I hear the announcement that outer decks are to be closed until the morning in Spain, I can't go outside and look at a stormy sea in the dark of night, judging by the way that cabin rocked through most of the night I don't think I would want to either. In the morning all was better, we were up and about, breakfast was consumed, everyone feeling better and relaxed. We had clear blue skies in Spain, and it was supposed to be warm too. The boat started unloading cars at 14:00 Portugal and UK time, and that took forever, then they signaled for bikes to go, it was only by 14:40 that this mayhem was going on: In chaotic situations like that I usually take it calmly and let the chaos dissipate instead of joining in, having been the first ones to go in my bike was parked at the corner the farthest away from the ramp outwards, we were amongst the few last ones to leave the boat. Exiting the port was another long task, but at least here they had 4 people checking passports. I was a little miffed they didn't have a clearer path for EU passports though. Out of port we were straight onto a gas station to fuel up, a little chat to acclimatize to being on land and we were off. I had booked a little room in a small rural home next to the restaurant we both had dinner in when leaving Portugal. The plan was to make it there on that same day, enjoy dinner back in the homeland and then ride to my parents' home through smaller country roads the next day. This meant jumping on the motorway and cruise down with just one break, which we did. Bugs were all in force, bikes and helmets got pelted with them, here I'm waiting with an already low sun for Sofia to return from cleaning her visor. 19:30 and we're exiting the motorway to the last 30 or 40km to our destination, nice roads there, for the first time ever I felt like going a little fast at night time, I didn't as Sofia was having visibility issues, plus a deer had just showed himself as we were moving off after taking the picture above. Home for the night, in rural Tras os Montes: We were tired but happy, the room we were staying in was like what you would have if you went to visit your portuguese grandmother in the countryside, a very comfy bed with heavy blankets and a simple but cozy house. I loved it. Dinner was magnificent, a simple coal grilled beef chop, salad, fries (a portion for a family of 4), and their special treat to me was their vegetable rice, with sweet Tras os Montes cabbage, it was what I wanted for coming back home. Total including wine and a 7up, and coffees, 25€. It isn't, but it felt cheap after Britain. I was very happy: We only had a 2 minute walk to bed, should have been more as it was a lovely night. Next morning, we get up earlyish and make way home, my mom's 71st birthday was the next day and Sofia wanted to spend some time with her before going home, so we were to arrive today. Not many pictures were taken, although the northern Portugal scenery did call for it. Better grip than it looks: We were enthusiastic about using a little bit of an A road to cover 50 or 60km and thus gain some time, the deserted road with nothing but the odd car, the absence of speed camera warnings (they do hide them here, to trap you!!) after the control in the UK, and we might have been a little too fast through there. Arriving home after riding most of the Douro valley, I ignore a closed road sign only to find a road closed for construction ahead, usually they forget about these signs. We were turning back but the guys in charge of the works eagered us use the gravel footpath circling the construction. It was a bit of a tight squeeze for the GS but all went well, they did that out of just wanting to help and not worrying too much about regulations and stuff, it was a stark contrast, maybe somewhere in the middle we would be able to find an adequate balance. This concludes my report about our trip to the UK, it was a culture shock for me in many ways, but a culture shock that I did enjoy. You grow when you see how other people live, I think I did as just this morning I was listening to traffic outside and people beeping horns while stuck in a minor 10 car traffic jam, and wondering if they couldn't be more patient, like the brits when they cope with such stuff.

We left James and Diane's home heading to Beaulieu as an entry to the New Forrest but also to stop by the museum. First, why is Beaulieu pronounced buelly? Why is Torquay pronounced torquey? Makes no sense, it's like you're trying to mess with my brain. Getting to New Forrest and I see horses everywhere. Nobody told me there would this magical woods with horses roaming around, why do you keep this to yourself? I just stopped the bike and stood there for a while, horses just couldn't give a crap about my presence and that is very cool! After a while, I started acting like an adult again so we got to the museum. It's inside an estate with a rich family history of adventurers and of significance to the WW2 since there was where the final stages of training to the sabotage and under cover agents sent to France took place. They had a very interesting exhibit and it feels like the people writing Allo Allo visited the exact same museum as the characters are the same, with the british guys that lived under the old lady's bed, or the woman that said "listen to me, I shall say this only once". All of them real people. We were there for cars and motorcycles, His "secretary", I love it! Class: A very special Norton, direct drive with no clutch or gears Love the brakes: Great, to mix of the Ducati with the Royal Enfield. As we were contemplating exactly that, and looking at the throttle grip all torn to shit by Troy Bayliss after a single race, an older gentleman came over to talk about the bikes and explain certain curiosities. He is fan of Ducatis and has met Bayliss a few times. After a little talking he opens up to his own road racing career that took him all over Europe racing an RGV500. Me, I love that he owns a few bikes including the RGV and still takes his Ducati 998 around on sunday rides sometimes. The real highlight to this museum visit: He is the one that recommended we should visit the Sammy Miller museum, we hadn't remembered but it quickly made it to next morning's priority. I enjoyed looking around the house and the property, pretty place. A few minutes on the road and I get distracted with more horses, this one having a good scratch against a bin. Quick stop in Burley for mailing a postcard to my mum, that hasn't arrived yet, and we were suddenly in 50 years ago: the young girl at the store was super nice, old ladies buying meat and having a laugh with each other, a eccentric looking farmed dude came over to us to talk about our bikes and to ask where we were from, all of it made such a strong pleasant impression. I noticed a café and decided where to go for breakfast the next day before the next museum visit. I never visited as many museums in my life! There's no way I can not stop for this: Overnight was at Lyndhurst, we checked into a nice hotel and went to have a walk around town searching for a place to eat. It was a great evening in a very nice little town, I was surprised at the amount of traffic at rush hour though, but it soon disappeared. Dinner was in an equally nice restaurant, I decided on a fancy take on a British classic, can't go away without a beef and ale pie. I enjoyed it very much. Sofia quickly pointed out that this dough isn't the proper one, I conceded but it tasted very nice. Walking back to the hotel, and it's starting to get chilly out, maybe Autumn is finally arriving. We have a nice quiet night again, and get ready for our last full day in the UK. Morning sees us packing the bikes in sunny weather, we are to have a short ride for breakfast in Burley, then another short ride out of the New Forrest and into the Sammy Miller Museum, and then after taking a few fast roads over to Dartmoor to find a place to sleep not too far from Plymouth, the ferry people had sent a message asking for people to arrive early as it'll be a busy boarding. Lovely forrest, what a cool place it is, I'm surprised I never heard of it but considering all the animals around the speed limits aren't that high so maybe it doesn't attract motorcycles. Breakfast was gorgeous, sautéed mushrooms with a nicely poached egg on toast. Burley is a cool place. We arrive at Sammy Miller Museum and I ask that we do it with a stylish pose: Sammy's daily trials bikes, he's 90 and rides a minimum of 15 minutes a day in the woods nearby to not lose practice. Inside, it's a very special place for old bikes. There's plain old bikes, really old bikes, old race bikes, a trials section as that's what he was famous for, a lot of them restaured by themselves, and also a few very very special bikes. I selected and deleted all poor pictures, and now have just 149 pictures of the few hours spent there, I'll post quite less to make the thing viewable. The ladies models, with the step through frames. Two WW1 dispatch motorcycles: Over there, in the blue overalls you see Sammy Miller giving Allen Millyard a private tour. What a cool thing, the Moto Guzzi V8 Serious stuff now! Sofia, kindly invited to grab the handlebars of the AJS the won the first world championship in 1949. Me not expecting to see another TV icon: Pretty sure that Made in England sticker wasn't there in 1929, though. One of the three BMWs present, I think the sticker was the only way it was getting displayed Out of nowhere comes this small puppy with a toy and wants to play, turns out he's running away from people that want to not let him be himself, we have fun for a while before his responsible human (he's Sammy Miller's dog) comes to take him and he runs away to find another person to play with. I'll stop, but really, you should go as you can easily spend the best part of a day inside. We rode off and onto Dartmoor. Went on main roads to make progress and beat the sunset there, only stopping more to enjoy the pretty area near our destination. The River Dart And then some amazingly pretty views over hills. Proper road, this: Again, I had to stop, this time for Dartmoor poneys: This was about to be the last interesting bits of riding in the UK, and I think it was very memorable. The last two days, here and in New Forrest had been really great. We had booked a room in a pub, I wanted the nice homey small town pub, and that's what we had. A quick shower and a walk around the village. Room was not big, the mess I made makes it look even smaller, but the beds were very comfy and we would sleep very well. When we came back inside it was starting to rain outside, poor bikes! I had a great time in this place, lovely friendly people running the place, all of them. The next day the nice man in charge of breakfast suggested I should try the proper breakfast, it's included in the price so I couldn't say no. This was not a trip in which I lost weight. The front door doesn't look like much, but if I'm ever in Plymouth again that's where I'll be staying. The forecast was for the weather to improve, so even though it was drizzling I rode to Plymouth not wearing rain stuff. It was the correct choice, style matters! A quick ride and we're there and wait for the ferry. Tomorrow it's the final installment.