ferguzzi

not the best angle of a tenni...

arromanche beach, and the remains of part of one of the floating mulberry harbours. huge....

a german hunter killer tank. well, it's not technically a tank...

the office

it seems ages ago now, but sometime in august I had started what was meant to be a 3 week trip away from home, part work, part fun. It took a little longer..... Woke up at 330am, butterflies in my stomach, hop on the tenni and make the 3 hour trip to the ferry on the southeast of ireland. Cold but dry, I'm salivating at the thought of a decent spin. The bike isn't missing a beat.The new clutch feels odd, but that's because it's new. 4 hour ferry, hit fishguard in wales, then a 5 hour spin to london. It's all motorway, but the sun is shining, the bike's growling happily, God's in his heaven and all is well. I get to Heathrow with time to spare, sort out the bike, get myself sorted, catch some shuteye, then go to work. This particular work day has me flying an A340 to Hong Kong, about 12 hours. then 2 days there, beer, chinese food, the best kebabs in Asia, sleep. Then down to Sydney, about 9 hours. 24 hours there, sleep, surf Manley, steak, maybe a glass of wine, sleep. Then back to Hong kong. Its a daylight flight, but we're 12 hours out of sync so the fatigue is building, no matter how much you sleep. Arrive in Hong Kong night time, maybe a beer in the hotel to wind down, then off to bed. Sleep like a dead baby. Another 2 days here, more chinese food, kebabs, shopping , whatever does it for you. Normally you just want to go home at this stage. Finally leave for London, 13 hours in the air, excitement's palpable among the crew as they look forward to seeing loved ones, dogs, whatever. Only I'm not going straight home. I have an appointment in Holland with some guzzitsi..... Now at this point, i was going to attach a photo of the cockpit from sydney, but the damn computer's not behaving, so bear with me. all photos at the end maybe. Anyhooo... Arrive in Heathrow 430 am, tired but excited, Catch a few hours sleep, then find the bike unmolested after 8 days. pack and hit the road, down to portsmouth for the 4 hour ferry to France. Sun's shining, an indian summer has hit northern Europe, and I cant believe my luck. Silly boy.... Boat Docks in Cherbourg, A smattering of British bikers are making small talk as the drawbridge lowers and France beckons. 7pm and it's still warm, I'm going to enjoy this. 50 Yards off the boat, just after you pass the customs boys, there's a roundabout. I open the throttle as i exit, anxious to hit the road proper. But there's a slight lag. Did i really feel that? I enter the next corner, open it up on exit, and sure enough, there's a slight delay from when I open the throttle, to when it translates to my backwheel. It's tiny, but it's there. So i studiously ignore it. Only of course, inevitably, obviously, the lag gets worse. the delay gets longer until the clutch, my new clutch with about 1000 miles on it, is well and truly slipping. I last about twenty miles,and finally stop dead in a pretty little village called St Mere eglise. Now the historians among you might have heard of this place. Its where the US 82nd airborne were due to land on D day. On any other occasion, I'd have been like a kid in a candy shop here, but not this evening. Because this evening, I'm broken down (again), Everythings closed, and I'm on my own (again), I'm in a lovely spot, the Tenni looks fabulous, it just won't fucking run(again). Thank God for AA european insurance. Well needless to say, plans got changed radically. The next 2 days the original plan to tour the Dday sights went ahead, but in a gay peugeot, not a growling guzzi. Still, at least i got to see them. Omaha beach, where Tom Hanks and the US army won WW2 and saved the world is every bit as moving as you would think. Falaise, Caen, Carentan, Arromanche, Bayeux are all there to see, complete with shermans, panthers, and mulberrys, and for a history buff like me it still raises the hairs on the back of my neck to think about it. Meanwhile, the guzzi had been shipped to the only guzzi man in Normandy, in Flers, and on a Friday evening he very nicely let me watch him perform surgery on it. After about 2 hours he was holding the clutch pushrod in hi s hands, and showing me that it didn't fit the hole in the clutch plate properly. Why? Looking at each other, in a moment of hiberno-gallic entente, we both shrugged. @#!#$# knows. I left that particluar mystery to him. I hit the road for what turned out to be a 7 hour drive to Maastricht to meet up with the boys and girls at the euro guzzi meet. In my gay french registered Peugeot. Parp, Parp. 2 thing to note. French pop music is lousy on a Friday night. And probably every other night, so the stereo had tortured me until i hit musical sanctuary in Belgium, then it really started to rock in nederlanden. The other thing was that i was driving the wrong car. Crossing the dutch border, 4 guys in a car spent 10 minutes trying to run me off the motorway. It was like something out of Kojak. It seems I fitted the description of a frenchman going to holland to buy drugs, where it's legal. So i would have had loads of money on me. So they wanted to rob me. I didn't know this at the time. I just thought 4 big belgians were trying to kill me for a laugh. I managed to shake them in my gay peugeot. I arrived at the guesthouse about 30 minutes later, feeling a little in shock, 130am. This was turning into one of "those" trips. Next morning, all was well, I was among friends. A Ride out was organised and in a moment of Hiberno-viking entente, Soren the danish spy lent me his V11 so I could join in the fun. i thereby forgave his ancestors for raping our monks and stealing our gold. The spin took in at least 4 countries, And if i say the person I spoke most to was Finnish, you'll get how international this particular brethern really is. Back to the guesthouse for beer and a barbie. As i had missed the previous nights frivolities, I felt some catching up was required. I may have overdone it. Even ACDC can get tiring at 5am, if you're trying to sleep. The next day was the usual goodbyes to people you never really see enough of, and one or two days a year doesn't really suffice. Oh well. I made a slight detour to search for the"bridge too far" at Nijmegen,then a long drive back to normandy, another lovely day, wasted on 4 wheels. Another night in france then the ferry back to England(on foot), then back to heathrow for a quick 3 day trip to Nairobi and back. And then finally home. 3 weeks later, I find myself back in Flers, picking up my Guzzi. In very broken franglaise, the nice guzzi man says he never figured out why the pushrod din't fit into the clutchplate. He just drilled the hole bigger. Now it fits. Another shrug. I left Flers very confused. The bike felt normal now, the clutch behaving perfectly, the bike not missing a beat.But like a cuckolded lover, i could not get it out of my head it was going to blow up again. any miss, any bump, any imagined hiccup had me worrying like a turkey at Christmas. I didn't know it at the time, but that was the last day of summer. It was wasted on me. The next day, the last day, it pissed rain like the Gods had been collecting it all for me. I rode for 10 hours to get to the ferry at Roscoff, for the 12 hour trip to Ireland. Thoughts of hondas and bmws had been plaguing me for weeks now. I'm thinking of riding a norge across the states next year. Why the hell would I do it on a guzzi? The bastards keep breaking, and I don't even live in a country with a dealership. Its madness. My V11 has 16000 miles on it, and I,ve seen it on the back of a trailer 5 times. Granted once was completely my fault, but still.... Dark thoughts as black as the clouds overhead whirled around as i parked in the bike section of the queue for the ferry. I wasn't paying much attention, but there were 16 bikes there, all Irish, coming home from their trips. 13 were bmws. I took off my helmet and looked around, Everyone was looking my way, most were grinning. It took a while to register. Guzzis are a rare beast in Ireland, and I must have made an impression when I arrived. You see these bikes do have a coolness about them. I love that. Its hard to quantify, but it's there nonetheless. But,God, you pay for it.

Great shots Dave. God I'm ugly with a few pints on me. It's like reverse beer-goggles!

Jeez mate, at least you're not hurt. I thought it was going to be one of "those" stories. On the plus side, it's like you're newly divorced! only cheaper... Sky's the limit. How about the new shape ducati multistrada? saw one the other day, and thought it looked good. or you could go leftfield and get a benelli tre. Don't worry about maintainance, it's Italian, so it never breaks.

I feel your pain. As I speak my tenni is still in France with a buggered clutch. I've since found out it had been fitted wrongly by my local garage. The bike has 20000 miles on it, and it was the 6th time I've watched it being towed to a garage. Lack of a guzzi dealer in my country, combined with a basic(but I'd like to think improving) mechanical knowledge , has proven a big obstacle. Look at bfg's griso problems. And I'm thinking of buying a Norge in the spring! It's bonkers. But I can't think of an alternative that gets my attention. Catch 22.....

Just arrives in heathrow, the drive yesterday from sibbe to normandy was only slightly made worse by the demon hangover. I think I'll have to start a new topic just on my travels over the last 2 weeks, and its not finished yet.(Bike is still in france). A really enjoyable meet again, it was well worth the 1800 km round trip in my gay peugeot.Truly an international affair, Jaap's prowess in language was so impresssive I was expecting some Korean or swahili to make an appearance. Respect to Soren for lending me his pride and joy. If only he knew why my clutches keep braking.... Yes to any trips next year...except I'm (hopefully) riding a norge across the states in stages next year, the first trip in May, the second in late august/september. So june/july would suit me, but whatever.... Off to Nairobi tomorrow. If I manage to catch my breath I'll do a trip story with photos. But don't hold your breath.

it was all going too well. Stuck in Bayeux, normandy, lovely place. bike lasted about 20 miles from the ferry, before the clutch started slipping. and then gave up. possibly a leak on to the plates.... Anyway, expectme when you see me.

Hi Ferg can you give me some details? What time is the Cherbourg ferry that you are taking and when are you coming back and by what route? I'm in a dilemma as to what to do.I have all sorts of difficult situations with work including major things that HAVE to be done at the beginning of September. At the moment I am so exhausted that I can hardly stand up. While I want to get to the continent, the problem is the extra time that it takes to get there from Northern Ireland and to get back. Energy-wise, it might be more bearable to travel with someone else. I need to go to Leipzig the following week and had wondered about staying on and riding there, but really it's not going to work because of the extra time away from work. D Hi Dave, I'm starting and finishing the trip in heathrow. I'm on the brittany ferries 1500 departure from portsmouth to cherbourg on wed, 1 sep. then return 1945 on mon 6 sep. Haven,t quite figured what i'll do in between, but Caen, Bruges and maybe luxembourg( I used to live there) will be involved. should be fun!

Slight change of plans, as I'm coming on my own. Yessir to the barbecue. Plan is I'm taking the bike over to heathrow , leaving it there while I go to work, then pick it up on wednesday 1sep. then ferry to cherbourg and spend the day checking out dday stuff,spend the night there somewhere. Then up up to bruges and spend the night. because i like the beer. then off to hollandland, arrive friday afternoon sometime. Should be fun!

I beleive they were first made popular by surfers, to keep their little aussie toesies warm after a dip. And hairy men wore them! I think they're cute. the shoes, not the hairy men.....

Another great trip, with great company. Got home knackered after a straight forward 5 hour spin, the bike didn't miss a beat. for a change. Sitting in my nice clean hotel room in Johannesburg 2 days later, I was almost missing the farting scot snorers from the celtic bedroom. Almost.....! Another success Dave, roll on the dutch invasion in September. There will be beer, won't there?

Nothing wrong with rain. 5 million irish people can't be wrong. Anyway, it's good for you, puts hairs on your chest. Just watched the nw200. Are we allowed to go that fast? 10 days to go......

[well ,still here. Slavomir, I just came from Jaipur, and it's even hotter there!Anyway We can't really leave again, as I've a crew seat booked on the first flight out of here. We're not doing too badly actually, we're in the tibetan conlave of Delhi, people are really nice, and it's not as manic as the rest of the city. And we have A/C. Hell we even have cable, and I've been eating nothing but chinese food for 4 days. Which is now also starting to get a bit samey, so today we even ate in macdonalds! In case anyone's curious, a big mac here is called a maharaja mac. no beef you see.... Oh, and the tibetans don't allow alcahol, so no beer. Which I'm beginning to think is a blessing in disguise.

Yeah, I've definetly got the time off, so as long as I get out of f**king India, I'll be there. Hopefully on the guzzi...

At the end of a nice 3 week trip to India lots of curry and Kingfisher and curry, only to find the damn Icelandics are at it again, and I can't get home. And I'm sick of curry and Kingfisher! Plus there's a heatwave, it was 46 degrees today, 115 or something in American, way too hot for your average Paddy, and delhi's a bit of a dump. Did I mention I've had enough curry? Moan.

In 2002 I was touring my brand new Tenni down to serbia and back. Somewhere inland of Zadar in Croatia I found a winding corkscrew hill that just screamed to be thrashed, and there might have been a few oppertunistic overtakes of ladas along the way. It took maybe 20 minutes, and I think I climbed a few thousand feet, only to find 2 cops at the very top who had been monitoring my progress all the way from the bottom. Cops were everywhere then, I think they just gave the majority of the army a change of uniform once the war was over, and told them to carry on. Anyway, these lads were very pissed off, and starting bleating to me in croatian, which oddly I don't speak, mostly about dangerous riding ,speeding, rape, genocide, who knows? It seems the massive fine was in the region of $10 us. A large amount to them. I looked suitably ashamed and scared. They eventually took pity on me, and let me on my way. Just as I was about to start up, one of them looked at me, gestured to the bike , and did his best Fonz impression..... "Moto guzzi, ehhhhhhhhhhhh....". Gave me a thumbs up, and ambled off.

[sorry to here this. Odd that he posted recently, and sounded fine.(as if you can tell from a few lines on a website). RIP Tex.

No Dave, just been told he won't make it, family commitments. I'm defo planning to come, I won't know for certain until 15 april, when my roster arrives, but I don't think it'll be a problem.

Should have warned you about this. I stay in pasadena when in la and am a regular visitor to the shop.I was there about a month ago and got talking to the owner, a new yorker who basically runs the business as a fun sideline( he has a background in high finance). Nice guy, interesting history, he said the guzzis were finally on the way. From what I've seen it's a good store, nice people, easy to deal with.

Great idea! 2*large long sleeved shirt, both colours. The one fault of the last t shirts was the v11.com logo on the front was a little "busy", and too hard to read. Maybe keep it a bit simpler? just a thought....

Cows will drink milk. Most adults will, although it wasn't the original idea, and goes a bit of the way towards explaining modern ill health. It's just too damn rich for people, or cows, to drink. So all that stuff about it being healthy for you is bull. sorry. as an adult anyway. The japanese rarely drank milk as adults until quite recently( remember those stories about them being able to smell the allies in the jungles during ww2?, well the theory goes that it was the dairy in their diets). And the japs have always had one of the best diets of all. Milk should be banned. I hate it. Grrrrr.