The last few months have been magical on every front. Mega miles, historic racing, sunny skies and scuffed sliders. But even I have to get dragged away for a week or two to enjoy `quality time' with the kids regardless of whether the feeling's mutual or not...
So I spent a ten days away from two wheels or so I thought. We'd located a lovely little house in the South of France to recharge the batteries and to let my mind go blank. 15 minutes later that job was done and it was time to switch off from motorbikes. Except this house was in the middle of the most mental motorcycle route imaginable. I was being serenaded by thumping singles, gurgling twins, tasty triples and screaming four pots every evening which at least made the mosquito bites that little bit more tolerable. I came to the conclusion that the French love bikes, and bikes love France.