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In June 2010 after attending the National

Rally at St Lucia, our disgracefuls stopped

over at the Mountain Park Hotel Resort in

Bulwer. The Hotel was said to be haunted

and a few disgracefuls including Sue spent

the night lying wide awake, and froze in

terror at any creak or groan that emanated

from the old building. So this got me

thinking . . . . . what about a biker ghost story or two?

Just recently our disgracefuls have started getting away over weekends

for “Sleep-overs”in their “one-zies”! (Their words not mine.) Their next

port of call is Graaf-Reinet in an area frequented by many ghosts and

UFO’S, so I thought it best to let them know what they are riding into.

Concerned for their safety I immediately turned on my trusty

computor and did a search for any “Ghosts” that they may encounter

on their travels. There were so many that I could not possibly share all

of them with you, so here are just a few that caught my fancy.(Dear

reader please only read these pages when you are safely in bed with all

the doors and windows locked, the Rotweilers on

guard and the alarm companies panick button

within reach!Scribe)

The first one concerns the Italian “Spook Huis” out

side Pretoria. Built by Italian prisoners of war

during WW 2, this imposing double-story mansion

was built for a wealthy farming family. Years later

when I was in my late teens (yes those rebel years)

Volume 15 Number 91

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the family sold up most of the farm and rented out the

farm house to a family friend of ours. No sooner had

they moved in when strange things started to happen

while they were in the house. Doors would open and

close with nobody around. Crockery and glasses would

be thrown around the room and sent smashing into the

walls. Lights would be turned on and off and

strange muffled laughter could be heard at night. To make things worse

. . . . my very nervous friend would lie awake at night puffing on a

cigarette, when suddenly the locked door would open, the light would

go out, he felt an icy cold draft and then something would take the

cigarette out of his hand and put it out in the ashtray.

They did not stay very long and so the house had a few tenants before

nobody would stay there anymore as they they were experiencing the

same type of incidents.

Many years later what was left of the farm was

purchased by Tukkies University. They made some

additions to the farm house and the workers were

plaged by endless problems. Part of the renovations

was a new entrance road that entered the property

from another side. Once the new road was constructed

the old one was closed for good and the haunting

stopped until this day.

Perhaps I should mention that the old farm road ran

straight past the farm grave yard. . . . . . . Scary but

true.

BIKER GHOSTS! Biker Ghosts: are ghosts which allegedly appear to be solid, real people and are said to hitch lifts with unsuspecting motorbike riders. It is somewhat unclear whether or not this truly is a genuinely reported phenomenon or simply an urban myth. Regardless of which is correct the accounts of biker ghosts usually follow in a similar vein: As the story goes . . . . . . . . . . . It was a dark, stormy night and a lone motorbike rider was out late at night, driving along a deserted, lonely country lane. As he approached a bend, he caught sight of what appeared to be a windswept woman with long flowing hair. The woman beckoned silently to the rider to pull over, and fearing for the lady's safety on such a bleak night, he promptly obliged. The wind was howling, making it difficult to talk, and the lady did not seem to want to speak, instead preferring to

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communicate in gestures. She indicated that she wanted to ride on the back of the motorbike and promptly took the spare crash helmet and placed it on her head. After pointing ahead and speaking only the name where she wanted to go, she duly wrapped her arms tightly around the waist of the unsuspecting rider. The biker set off down the road toward

town and as the journey progressed the woman's grip became tighter and tighter. The motorbike rider was relieved when he finally pulled into town. He slowed and pulled up to the edge of the pavement and glanced around to tell the woman that she certainly had a vice-like grip. To his absolute amazement, the woman was gone and his spare crash helmet was left as if it had never been moved. On thinking that perhaps the woman may have jumped or fallen off the motorbike, the rider frantically retraced his steps, but to no avail. The only conclusion he could draw, was that he had been carrying a ghost behind him. There are some embellishments to this tale and these tend to depend upon the version being told. Certain variations of the story conclude that later the same evening, the rider, on recounting the tale in the local pub; was duly informed by the landlord of a young lady who had earlier been killed along the self-same route. The description of the victim uncannily matched that of the woman hitchhiker.

Oxford England

It is well known that a drive on the roads surrounding Oxford can be dangerous. According to one legend, dangerous curves, oncoming traffic, speeders, and drunken drivers may not be the only things waiting for you on your trip. This tale begins with a young Oxford man riding his motorcycle on Oxford-Milford road. The man was in a hurry; he was going to propose to his girlfriend who lived on Earhart Road. But fate intervened before cyclist arrived at his destination. Missing a sharp turn, the motorcycle flew off the road and cyclist was decapitated by a barbed-wire fence. It is said that death did not deter our cyclist, and that he is still today trying to reach his girlfriend’s house to pop the question. In order to see him, you should drive to the girlfriend’s old Earhart road home, currently owned by a Mr. Falk, and park facing south. If you flash your headlights three times, you may see the headlight of the ghost motorcycle focusing straight ahead; only to disappear as it approaches the fatal curve. If, by chance, the cycle light does not disappear, it is recommended that you drive quickly away in the opposite direction.

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“Help Me” Road

A local legend maintains that in the 1980s a couple was returning home along this road from a night of drinking at a nearby biker bar when their motorcycle crashed. Both riders were terribly injured, but the man managed to write “help me” on the road in his own blood before he died. Attempts to remove the words from the pavement failed. Even when the county repaved the road, the words mysteriously returned. Some have suggested that “help me” was written onto the road in tar by a mischievous construction worker. The road has recently been repaved and the words are no longer visible . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . for now!

The De Deur Ghost story It has been said that if you drive down Boundary Road, De Deur on a dark night and flash your headlights or a torch three times a headless motorbike rider will appear and drive past you at a great speed. Some people say you must be parked outside the Old Farm house before the ghost appears. The origins of the story are that a local farmer was very protective of his beautiful daughter. He had become suspicious of her late-night activities after he had retired to bed. He was sure that his daughter was sneaking out of the house to be with a local boy who often speeded up and down the dusty road on his noisy motorbike. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to watch his daughter, he was never able to catch them together. So he set up a trap to teach the boy a lesson to scare him off for good. He waited for a moon-less night and hung a strong piece of wire between two trees at about chest height across the driveway of the farm. That night after he had fallen asleep his daughter snuck out of her bed and flicked her bedroom lights three times, this was the signal so her lover knew that the coast was clear and he could come fetch her. He speeded along the road unaware of the danger, as he approached the house, the wire caught him across the neck, he was instantly decapitated. Some say that he had collected the daughter and on the way back they were both decapitated.

My Ding-a-ling! Someone posted this on the Cape Town motorcycle owner’s site on facebook. Legend has it that Evil Road spirits have been latching on to motorcycles for as long as there have been bikes on the road. These Evil Road Spirits are responsible for mechanical problems and bad luck along a journey. Legend goes on to say that by attaching a small bell on your bike The Evil Road Spirits will become trapped inside the bell where the constant ringing drives them insane, making them lose their grip until they fall to the ground. (Ever wonder where pot holes come from?)Perhaps that is why Harley riders have tassels and bells on their bikes?

SORRY, MY WIFE SAYS IT IS TO SEE IF THEY ARE MOVING!

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The Uniondale Spook In stormy weather on the Easter weekend of 1968 a young engaged couple had a car accident on the Barandas-Willowmore road around 20 kilometres from the town. The woman, Marie Charlotte Roux, was sleeping in the back seat of their Volkswagen Beetle when her fiancé lost control of the car. The car overturned and she was killed.

The first reported sighting of a ghost matching her description occurred during the Easter weekend of 1976, and since then many other sightings have been reported. All involve a female hitchhiker who is given a lift, then disappears a few kilometres down the road, and some have reported car doors opening and closing, laughter and a chill in the air.

This is a newspaper article from the Daily Breeze newspaper, dated Friday, April 11, 1980. The article reads as follows: The motorcycle ghost of the Karoo Desert has struck again. The ghost, said to be a woman who died in a motorcar accident more than 10 years ago near Uniondale, badly frightened Andre Coetzee, 20, who was breezing along the highway on Good Friday.

“ “I was riding near the Barandas turnoff (the site of the fatal accident a decade ago) when I felt my hair stand on end inside my crash helmet and someone or something put its arms around my waist from behind. There was something sitting on my bike,” the shaken Coetzee said.

”

The frightened motorcyclist said he accelerated to 80 mph to get away, but the ghost hit him three times in the helmet to get him to slow down. 'The blows were vicious,' he said. When he reached 100 mph, Coetzee said, 'the apparition disappeared.'

Coetzee drove to a local cafe for help.

“He could hardly speak when we asked him what had happened. But gradually it dawned on us that the woman ghost had appeared once more,” said Jeanette Meyer, the cafe owner. There have been several reports in recent years of motorcyclists picking up a blonde woman hitchhiker near Uniondale, only to find that she had vanished from the back seat after a few miles.

Things that go bump in the night, should never give you a fright! It's the holes in

your ears, which let in the Fears! That! And the absence of light. Spike Milligan

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The lovely Karoo village of Prince Albert has a history dating back to 1762. No wonder then that ghosts are believed to haunt its old buildings, streets and pavements. When you join the Prince Albert Ghost Walk expect an encounter of the spooky kind.

DID YOU KNOW?

Prince Albert's original 1912 village cinema is now the village theatre.

When Queen Victoria agreed in 1845 that a tiny village in the Karoo should be named after her consort – his Royal Highness, Prince Albert – she could never have guessed that one day he would also give his name to the Prince Albert Ghost Walk.

The Prince Albert Ghost Walk is one of South Africa's loveliest, because not only are the ghosts all amiable and approachable, but you'll also walk through little streets unchanged over the centuries, past buildings full of history, amid the beauty of this Karoo village.

Ailsa Tudhope, your guide, is an expert on the friendly phantoms, and will introduce you to the doomed bride, killed in a cart accident on the eve of her wedding, who flits happily around the parlour of the house that is now the Fransie Pienaar Museum.

Be sure to wave back if you see the elderly gentleman who greets pretty ladies from the veranda of a house in Mark Street. When new owners took over the house and filled the veranda with bookshelves, our ghostly geriatric threw books on the floor in disapproval. When the owners politely remonstrated with him, he politely desisted.

Another sociable spirit haunts the house of Dr Mearns, who in 1901 treated Boer Commando Gideon Scheepers, after he was wounded by a British bullet during the Anglo-Boer War. No one is quite sure why, but a young lady in a white nightie, with lace at her throat and tiny buttons down her front, bounces on the bed of Mearns House, the former home of the distinguished doctor.

Was it a ghost or UFO that was sighted northeast of the village between 1940 and 1960? There are still some folk alive in Prince Albert who saw that mysterious 'eye' and tell tales of the ghostly encounter.

So, dear disgracefuls you have a lot of wonderful scary adventures ahead in your travels. A picture or a story of your encounters will not go amiss. Please remember to pack extra under wear, as you may just need it. Scribe.

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“I WONDER. . . . . . ?” A male patient is lying in bed in the hospital, wearing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. A young student nurse appears and gives him a partial sponge bath.

"Nurse,"' he mumbles from behind the mask, "are my testicles black?"

Embarrassed, the young nurse replies, "I don't know, Sir. I'm only here to wash your upper body and feet."

He struggles to ask again, "Nurse, please check for me. Are my testicles black?"

Concerned that he might elevate his blood pressure and heart rate from worrying about his testicles, she overcomes her embarrassment and pulls back the covers. She raises his gown, holds his manhood in one hand and his testicles gently in the other.

She looks very closely and says, "There's nothing wrong with them, Sir. They look fine."

The man slowly pulls off his oxygen mask, smiles at her, and says very slowly, "Thank you very much. That was wonderful. Now listen very, very closely:

Are - my - test - results - back?"

A young Arab asks his father, "What is that weird hat you are wearing?"

The father said, "Why, it's a 'Chechia' because in the desert it protects our heads from

the sun."

"And what is this type of clothing that you are wearing?" asked the young man.

"It's a 'Djbellah' because in the desert it is very hot and it protects the body." said

the father.

The son asked, "And what about those ugly shoes on your feet?

His father replied, "These are 'Babouches", which keep us from burning our feet in

the desert."

"Then tell me," added the boy.

"Yes, my son?"

"Why are you wearing all this shit in Bradford?"

Don’t die a virgin-

Seriously,

There are terrorists waiting for you in Hell.

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SEPTEMBER

19Th Leslie Stoffberg(G)

25Th Derick Bolt (G)

Memo to our new and old farts

It is up to you to send me your Birth Dates. It is also up to you to inform me when you move from (S) silver to

(G) Gold and (P) platinum. (I do not have time to cut off your legs and count the rings.) If you are (P)

Platinum, you don’t have to do anything you have reached the top. Yay!

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August

1St

Midnight sleep over. Bathurst.

1St

Motor Mecca-Bikers Ball. See

advert below.

8Th

Gunfighters &Carbon sleepover,

Kei Mouth (At the Bush Pig)

16Th

EL SPCA Bikers Breakfast

22Nd

Club “Sleep-over”, Drosty Hotel,

Graaf Reinet. Boo!

September

4&5th

Sunshine Rally Port Alfred

4 &5th

Rhino Rally, Parys.

13th

CMA Father and Son run.

23rd

CLA Meeting. All clubs to attend.

25-27th

Dolphin Rally PE.

TAKE NOTE!

FRIDAY THE 31St JULY

A SPECIAL CLUB NIGHT-BRING AND BRAAI,

WITH OUR NATIONAL PRESIDENT AND ENTOURAGE.

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Greece!

Some years ago a small rural town in Spain twinned with a similar town in Greece. The mayor of the Greek town visited the Spanish town. When he saw the palatial mansion belonging to the Spanish mayor, he wondered aloud how on earth he could afford such a house. The Spaniard replied: ‘You see that bridge over there? The EU gave us a grant to construct a two-lane bridge, but by building a single lane bridge with traffic lights at either end, I could build this place.’ The following year the Spaniard visited the Greek town. He was simply amazed at the Greek mayor's house: gold taps, marble floors, diamond doorknobs, it was marvellous. When he asked how he’d raised the money to build this incredible house, the Greek mayor said: ‘You see that bridge over there?’ The Spaniard replied: ‘No.’

As of this week, all new Euros are to be printed on Greece-proof paper. Syria has appealed for international assistance today, after a boatload of 500 Greeks arrived seeking a better life. What are the first three letters of the Greek alphabet? I.O.U. I'm investing in a new currency...the George Foreman Euro. Same as the other Euro, . . . . . but no Greece. Alex Tsipras has said that Greece will "Bounce back". Just like its cheques. My son wanted to know what it was like to live in Greece, so I took his pocket money off him.

"What is the capital of Greece?" The correct answer: "About 20 euros."

"What's a Grecian urn? A lot less than he did two years ago."

"Hey, nice tan!," "Did you spend the weekend at Psarou beach (a VIP spot on Mykonos island)?" "No. I got it from waiting in line for the cash machine."

Greek ATM

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The next time someone at your office

lets out a "silent but deadly" emission,

maybe you should thank them. Anew study at the

University of Exeter in England suggests that

exposure to hydrogen sulphide — a.k.a. what your

body produces as bacteria breaks down food,

causing gas — could prevent mitochondria damage.

Yep, the implication is what you're thinking: People are taking the research to mean

that smelling farts could prevent disease and even cancer. The study, published in

the Medicinal Chemistry Communications journal, found that hydrogen sulphide gas in

rotten eggs and flatulence could be a key factor in treating diseases. "Although

hydrogen sulphide gas is well known as a pungent, foul-smelling gas in rotten eggs

and flatulence, it is naturally produced in the body and could in fact be a healthcare

hero with significant implications for future therapies for a variety of diseases," Dr.

Mark Wood, a professor at the University of Exeter, said in a statement. While

hydrogen sulphide gas is harmful in large doses, the study suggests that "a whiff here

and there has the power to reduce risks of cancer, strokes, heart attacks, arthritis, and

dementia by preserving mitochondria," Time reports. Dr. Matt Whiteman, a University

of Exeter professor who worked on the study, said in a statement that researchers are

even replicating the natural gas in a new compound, AP39, to reap its health benefits.

The scientists are delivering "very small amounts" of AP39 directly into mitochondrial

cells to repair damage, which "could hold the key to future therapies," the university's

statement reveals. You'll have to decide for yourself, though, whether exposure to

hydrogen sulphide in flatulence is worth the potential health benefits.

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Shane and Phil were drinking buddies who worked as aircraft engineers in Melbourne, Australia. One day the airport was fogged in and they were stuck In the hangar with nothing to do. Phil said, 'Man, I wish we had something to drink!' Shane says, 'me too. You know, I've heard you can drink jet fuel and get a buzz. You want to try it?' So they pour themselves a couple of glasses of high octane booze and get completely smashed. The next morning Phil wakes up and is surprised at how good he feels. In fact he feels GREAT! NO hangover! NO bad side effects. Nothing! Then the phone rings. It's Shane. Shane says, 'Hey, how do you feel this morning?' Phil says, 'I feel great, how about you?' Shane says, 'I feel great, too. You don't have a hangover?' Phil says, 'No that jet fuel is great stuff -- no hangover, nothing. We ought to do this more often..' ' Yeah, well there's just one thing.' 'What's that?' 'Have you farted yet?' 'No.' 'Well, DON’T - 'cause I'm in New Zealand

OUMA & OUPA, POEP KOMPETISIE! Ouma & Oupa klim in die bed. Oupa gee 'n harde poep. Ouma vra:'Wat was dit?' Oupa dink vinnig en sê : 'dis poeprugby...7 punte vir my!' Paar minute later poep ouma en sê : 'n drie & 'n skop, 7 punte elk!' Oupa gee so n sagte poepie en sê: 'strafskop vir my, 10 - 07' Ouma laat loop ook met n ligte enetjie en sê: ' strafskop, 10 elk' Direk daarna gee ouma nog een en sê : 'skepskop!' ek loop 13 - 10 voor..!!' Oupa druk op sy hardste, verloor beheer en beskyt die bed. Ouma vra : en dit? Oupa sê: Dis halftyd, ons moet kante ruil'

Breathe deeply my dear friends; there are vitamins in the air!

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Scribe: Ken Heath

Tel: 082 710 2534 for verbal abuse.

E-Mail: heathken@telkomsa.net for any

contributions, comments etc. (Please….please …please!!!!)

Lawyers: Legal Wise: “Don’t talk to me, talk to my

Lawyer!”

Ulysses Office

E-Mail: ulyssessa@telkomsa.net

‘Disclaimer’

The opinions of the Scribe are not necessarily the product of a

sound mind and do not necessarily reflect the opinions or

values of Ulysses East London or any “Sane” person!

GREETINGS MY FELLOW SCORCHERS, I TRUST THAT YOU ARE ALL WELL AND KEEPING WARM.

NOT MUCH TO REPORT ON AT PRESENT, SO I THOUGHT I M IGHT HELP YOU GET A TINGLE OR TWO DOWN YOUR SPINES. (YES I KNOW A HARLEY CAN DO IT AS WELL BUT IT IS NOT THE SAME THING.)

PLEASE REMEMBER ME, WHEN YOU RETURN FROM YOUR SLEEP-OVERS. A GOOD STORY AND SOME PICS WOULD NOT GO AMIS.

REMEMBER THE “GROOT-BAAS” IS VISITING US ON THE 31ST, SO PLEASE BE THERE TO GIVE HIM A BIG EAST LONDON WELCOME. (WATCH MY LIPS RODNEY, “A NICE WELCOME.”)

IF ANY OF YOU HAVE NEW BIKES AND WOULD LIKE TO BRAG (TELL US ALL ABOUT THEM) I WOULD WELCOME YOUR CONTRIBUTION.

STAY ON TWO WHEELS, KEN.

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You have heard of the expression: “It cost me an arm and a leg.”

This expression originated during Neville’s childhood when they still painted portraits for wealthy families. (No selfies in those days.) In those days the artist charged for each part of the body he painted, hence the term “It cost me an arm and a leg.”

“Bloomers.”

As underwear bloomers are deeply unfashionable, but they had a much more progressive beginning. In the 1850’s, when women wore long elaborate skirts and dresses, the social reformer Amelia Jenks Bloomer of New York advocated more practical dress, known as “Bloomer costume”, consisting of a short skirt and long loose trousers gathered closely round the ankles. The trousers themselves, worn for active pursuits such as cycling, were then dubbed bloomers, although the style was also called ‘rational dress’.

“Buccaneer” Forget swashbuckling, at first a

buccaneer was a hunter of oxen in South America or the Caribbean. He cooked meat on a wooden frame, or boucan, which came via French around 1650 from Tupi, a language of the Amazon basin. Later the same century buccaneers changed career to pirates, working the Spanish American coasts.

“Canvass” You can smoke cannabis, or more legally, make canvas out

of its fibre. The versatile cannabis plant, also known as hemp, gives its name to the fabric. Question: If it is illegal to grow dagga/cannabis, how do they get the fibre to make canvas?

(Well that is all for now folks. At your age, four new facts are probably more than you can remember.)

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BY SUE, OUR RESIDENT “GHOST WRITER”

OUR TRIP TO CATALUNYA

AFTER MUCH PREPARATION WE FINALLY LEFT ON THURSDAY 11 JUNE. ARRIVED PARIS AT 5.30 AM AND CAUGHT A FLIGHT TO BARCELONA ARRIVED 9.30 AM. CAUGHT TAXI TO OUR ACCOMMODATION, PUT LUGGAGE DOWN AND HEADED FOR THE TRACK (FREE PRACTICE).

THE TRACK IS SITUATED IN A SMALL VILLAGE CALLED MONTMELO WHICH HAD COME ALIVE WITH MOTO GP FANS. IT IS ABOUT 40 KS FROM BARCELONA WHICH MEANT WE HAD TO CATCH AN UNDERGROUND TRAIN AND THEN TRANSFER TO ANOTHER TRAIN AND THEN WALK ABOUT 6 KS TO REACH THE TRACK.

WE SETTLED ON THE MAIN STAND OPPOSITE THE GARAGES AND WATCHED THE FREE PRACTICE. I HAD FORGOTTON HOW FAST THE BIKES ACTUALLY GO AND THE NOISE IS UNBELIEVABLE.

BETWEEN 5 & 6 WE WERE ALLOWED INTO PIT LANE. THERE WAS A LONG QUEUE WAITING TO GET IN AND WE JOINED THE LINE. THERE WAS A LOT OF RUNNING AND JUMPING OF WALLS BUT WE MADE OUR WAY IN. IT WAS AN UNFORGETTABLE EXPERIENCE WATCHING THE TECHNICIANS STRIPPING AND CLEANING THE BIKES. SAW MARC AND ALEX MARQUEZ, TITO RABAT, AND VONNY HERNANDEZ. ROSSI CAME OUT FOR AN INTERVIEW AND WENT BACK INTO HIS

GARAGE BEFORE HE WAS SWAMPED WITH FANS.

WALKING BACK TO THE VILLAGE FROM THE TRACK WAS LIKE BEEN AT A HUGE RALLY WITH ALL THE USUAL REVVING AND DOUGHNUTS. IT WAS VERY FESTIVE WITH LOTS OF TABLES AND CHAIRS ON THE PAVEMENT WHERE WE COULD SIT AND EAT WITH A DRAFT BEER AND TAKE IN THE ATMOSPHERE.

WAITING AT THE STATION THE NEXT DAY TO GO TO THE TRACK IT WAS OBVIOUS THAT 98% OF THE PEOPLE GOING TO THE TRACK HAD ROSSI SHIRTS, CAPS, FLAGS AND MY USUAL BUNNY EARS AND 46 PAINTED ON MY CHEEK. (AND ON A TATOO SOMEWHERE ELSE?)

THE VILLAGE WAS REALLY GEARED UP AND READY FOR THE HUGE INVASION. QUALIFYING WAS AMAZING TO WATCH AND WE DID NOT MISS A MINUTE. ON OUR WEARY WAY HOME AGAIN WE JOINED IN WITH THE FESTIVITIES AND RELUCTANTLY LEFT TO MAKE OUR WAY HOME.

Sue waving around some toilet-paper. I do

have the real flag if you need it. Scribe.

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WE WOKE EARLY ON SUNDAY MORNING TO HEAD FOR THE MAIN RACE. THERE WERE HOARDS OF PEOPLE AND BIKES HEADING IN THE SAME DIRECTION. WE SETTLED IN TO ENJOY THE RACING. MOTO 3 IS ALWAYS EXCITING WITH THE RACE LEADERS CHANGING ALL THE TIME. UNFORTUNATELY THERE WERE QUITE A FEW RIDERS WHO FELL OUT, BUT THAT DID NOT TAKE THE ENJOYMENT A WAY. THANK GOODNESS ROSSI WAS ON THE PODIUM, AND HE WAS WELL RECEIVED BY THE CROWD AS ALWAYS. WE THEN MADE OUR WAY HOME AGAIN, BUT STOPPED FOR DRAFTS AND TOOK IN THE ATMOSPHERE FOR THE LAST TIME. I DID ALL MY SHOPPING AT THE TRACK AND THE MOST STRESSFUL TIME THE WHOLE WEEKEND WAS STANDING AT THE MARQUEZ STAND TO BUY A SHIRT FOR WHARTON. (I HAD TO HIDE IT IN MY ROSSI PACKET.)

IT WAS ANOTHER GREAT EXPERIENCE NEVER TO BE FORGOTTEN.

WE SPENT A FURTHER 3 DAYS IN BARCELONA SIGHTSEEING AND ENJOYING OURSELVES.

WE THEN WENT ON TO PARIS WHERE WE SPENT 5 DAYS TAKING IN ALL THE SIGHTS. WHAT AN AMAZING CITY TO VISIT. WE SLEPT VERY LITTLE AND MOVED AT AN AMAZING PACE TO GET TO ALL THE PLACES. A MUST DO ON YOUR BUCKET LIST. WE HAD TO EVENTUALLY RELUCTANTLY LEAVE AND BOARDED THE FLIGHT VERY SAD BUT ALSO HAPPY THAT WE HAD HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO WHAT WE HAD DONE. FELT VERY BLESSED.

Sue and Caryn finally getting rid of their chastidy belt padlocks

The results of too much Spanish Fly!

Sue, talking to her twin in Australia.

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DO YOU THINK THE MAIN CAUSE OF THOSE BAD LYRICKS IS POOR

EDUCATION?

THE END