As you know I like to snap photos of things that make me smile, and as Eric set off on Firecrest towards the Harecastle Tunnel, I took one last stroll along the crumbling victorian buildings. The day before I’d seen this boarded up building, with a sign pointing down to Grumpys.
But today, it had come alive, the shutters pulled up and the Grumpy Bastards were out partying. All was revealed.
If you were into Harleys and America classic cars
This was the place to be
Grumpy Bastards is a club and music venue for people with a passion for the classics, motorcycles and americana.. And if you time it right, the reverent Tarquin Bounder will have opened up to polish the paint
And rub the rust
And generally enjoy sharing the love (aka showing off)
Behind the shuttered door is a bar that caters for bikers of all shapes and sizes,
And is full of memorabilia including this bugatti grand prix winner
But the bike takes centre stage
Of course not everyone wanted to stick around, but escaping isn’t easy as this poor guy found out as he tried to drive away, I didn’t dare look for fear that he was going to nudge one of those beauties.
Which he almost did, luckily someone had the sense to fetch the bikes owners, who moved their pride and joys out of the way. I’d retreated to watch from a safer distance. I wasnt sure what fireworks might fly as the tension rose.
Down the alley is a garage/workshop
There was food and drink to be had, so bought some street food rushed back to the boat to share it and some happy memories with Eric. When I was about 10 my family lived in South Africa, where big Chevrolet’s were the car of choice. I have fond memories of “aunty Nora’s” chevvy being this colour, although hers wasnt a pick up.
My dad drove a Bakkie , the South African word for a pick up just like this one
And the family went exploring in a proper VW kombi
I dont generally think of myself as a petrol head, but sometimes you’ve just got to live the moment. Everyone has to start somewhere.
And everyone can dream
But for now, I went happily back to my slow pace of life with a silent electric motor as we approached the tunnel for the next stage of our journey.
