Well that’s
my thinking anyway. I’m working on the
principal that if my bike is clean and I actively invite the border guards to
have a look at her then they’ll be less inclined to be malicious, and if they
are going to be malicious then at least they’ll be clean when the have finished
taking her apart and hopefully happy about that. So I spent an afternoon cleaning the bike.
Clearly
someone, around 3 feet tall and 2 years old, decided that daddy needed
help. Just a quick warning; if “help”
comes in a 3 foot tall 2 year old package then it will be as useful as enlisting a 1
year old spaniel puppy who has been fed on a diet of skittles and caffeine.
The first
sign that things were going wrong came when a little voice said “The water’s
hot!” this was followed by a red hot sponge being dropped on my flip-flop shod foot. For the record, he was right about the water. From there things got interesting. First the wheel brush found its self wedged
in the rear suspension, then the sponge was re-purposed for cleaning a nearby
wall (which filled it with very fine paintwork scratching grit), the bucket of
now lukewarm water was tipped away because it was no longer hot, then the tap
for the high pressure hose was turned on and the hose shot off soaking
everything including aforementioned little helper who was less than happy.
After an unnecessarily
long time the bike is finally clean and ready for the ride, by the end of this
week I should be in Greece, the bike should be enjoying a cruise in the Med and
my little helper will be dreaming about wild hoses and clean walls. Lunatic.
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