motorcyclemeditation.com

A wedding coming up, anticipated with relish partly for being the quintessential opposite of motorcycling. Extravagant instead of pared down, collective rather than individual, passive rather than active, complex rather than simple.

Motorcycle duly left at home, the car loaded with smart clothes and extra passengers. Best behaviour from me, no wistful looks at motorcycles gliding past through the traffic, no pulling sour faces, no commentary, just stay pleasant. Leave the motorcycling for another day, don’t be a bore.

The traffic not in fact materializing, a near miracle around London, just as well not to have made too much of a fuss about taking the car, if traffic’s like this, who needs a motorcycle.

Arriving at the church, sun shining, blue skies, puffy white clouds as if from a child’s drawing, bells pealing. Smiling faces, some well known, some familiar but not seen for a while, some unknown. A general hubbub, into the church, organ piping, pews filling, hands being shaken and cheeks kissed. The assembled multitude honouring the need to be present at something significant.

Then to a field for the reception. Part of it used as a car park, good not to have the motorcycle, it would be too strong a statement, look at me, look at me. Better just to fit in, follow the crowd for once.

Wine flowing, may as well take advantage of not having to ride. The comedic proceedings unfolding. Women in high heels wobbling on the turf as if already tipsy, complimenting one another on dresses. Little children riding the besuited backs of uncles. Faces getting redder with sun and drink and excitement. England and the English at their loveliest.

Default mode, up yours and a blast of the motorcycle, quietly shelved for the interim.

And today, Monday, on the motorcycle, spinning along, still smiling in the aftermath.