One of the claims to fame for Littleport in Cambridgeshire, is being the birthplace
of the father of William Harley one or the co-
It is also within the parish of Ely, and in days gone by would have had to pay yearly over a thousand eels to the Abbotts, I obviously prefer the reference to the bikes and thankfully no eels were found at Crowning Around.
As you know, no trip out is an adventure without a hiccup and so at silly o clock in the morning my faithful steed Doris decided not to start after filling up. After prodding and poking (its an intermittent electrical fault and I’m not a wizard) and leaving her to sulk amazingly she started. So, I still decided that the 120 miles to the show was a good idea, but I didn’t turn bike off.
Now I think I may have found the reason Doris was so reticent, as it had obviously rained a lot along the way, but I only hit a sprinkling of showers. Result. I was lucky as I reached the event too, as I was about the last bike to enter the street, after that people were sent to park next to the statue.
First impressions, wow, the whole street beside the pub was officially closed off with bikes and stalls filling every available space, the car park of the Crown providing more stalls, the stage and this gave the whole street the feel of a village fete, as many locals passed through both Young and old, and some kids even parked up their rather cool bicycles. No one seemed to mind paying the £3 to enter the event, with money going towards the Air Ambulance.
There were trophies for the bike show, and I saw the judges walking far and wide checking for suitable and worthy winners (rather them than me, as were lots of choice) but with such a mobile event I have no idea who won what, and if they even found the winners. With everything from classics, current bikes, Scooters, chops and rats.
There were lots of different bands and on a sunny day all seemed to be well suited, many playing rock covers, but all seemed pleasantly right for a sunny afternoon. Local band the riffugeess had many up and dancing, I’m sure the lethal looking cider on the 363 stall was helping that.
I was more than pleased when I found the local scouts cake stall, so with a fresh coffee I stopped to listen to Steve Spall so low who played a diverse range of covers, but he was rudely interrupted by the flypast of a spitfire, not sure how the organisers pulled that off but was an awesome sight.
The most random comment was from another rider who said to me “I passed you on the M11, I wasn’t surer it was you, but then thought, yes that’s Bosun as he has a way of riding a bike”. Hmm interesting I just think I sit on it and just plod away, in a captain slow way, but nice to be recognised.
Bike of the day for me (apart from Doris for getting me there) was the very low Black Suzuki chop, which just had such a ride me attitude, it was lush.
Realising I was only 20 miles from my youngest I decided to venture further north to Norfolk and with a happy feeling from such a glorious day I headed north before much later that day returning home, a cracking day out, and a perfect event, well done all.
Now yo find out why she didn’t want to play,
2 albums of photos and a short video