Thursday, September 2, 2010

Our third motorcycle service.

Our motorbike was booked in for a service today at 9 am in Daytona Beach, about 80 miles due east from Ocala. We woke early and were on the road before 8 am. The first part of the journey was in fog, which was helful since we were riding directly into the rising sun. It was remarkably flat. The vegetation was not very tall offering little or no shade during the day.
We had a quick trip down to Daytona Beach arriving about 9:15 am.

We left our bike with the service people and walked down Beach Road towards the Harley-Davidson dealers. Next to it was the Daytona Diner, "Home of the Piss and Moan About Everything Club"" - according to their T-shirts.





Wanda got to have her first serve of grits, but Chris had no interest in it. To her, grits was like porridge only lighter in colour and flavour. There was no "grittiness" at all. A little butter gave it some taste. We'll have to try it again to see if there is some variation.

As we walked along Beach Road several buildings were derelict where motor businesses had failed or moved on. It looked lonely, like the surface of another planet. The asphalt has overgrown with weeds.

Opposite was the lovely harbour with it's stylish bridge and palm trees. It was obviously a prime location.


While we were waiting for our bike to be serviced Chris went looking for a new pair of boots - the ones he brought from Australia had suffered a "wardrobe malfunction". The stitching around the heal of the left boot completely unravelled some months ago and the boots were letting in water evertime it rained. They were also getting very shabby generally and since they are his only footwear other than a pair of thongs, Chris needed an upgrade. The motorcycle dealer had some good looking Triumph branded boots for sale at $55 off the regular price. Chris checked with the sales staff to ensure that they would be compatible with a BMW motorbike before buying them.


We went shopping at a few other motorcycle clothing shops. Wanda found a motorcyccle jacket she liked,but since (1) we have no way to carry it; (2) Wanda wasn't prepared to throw away her current jacket; and (3) the cost of shipping it home would be prohibitive, we just noted the brand, model and price so she can look for it in Australia when we get back in 9 weeks time.

While waiting we struck up a friendship with another BMW rider, "One Eye" Bill. He was quite a character and gave us some useful local information.


Mark Sanchez has a military background. He has transferred these skills to running the motorcycle service department and it certainly runs like clockwork. We were very impressed. We were able to move on earlier than expected.

Once our bike was ready, we headed south to Titusville, about 45 miles away. It was 93 F (but felt hotter), so we just took of down the Interstate to minimize our exposure to the heat. We arrived in Titusville in mid-afternoon and found a good budget motel where we flopped down for a couple of hours in our airconditioned room.

When it cooled off a bit in the late afternoon we rode to a grocery store and bought dinner. While the wine chilled we walked the few hundred yards from our motel to the coast. The water we saw was not the ocean but a closed body of water behind a line of dunes. The water stank horribly and appeared heavily polluted.  The absolute water frontage in this area was not pleasant in summer.

We abandoned any thoughts of wading and headed straight back to the motel for dinner.

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