So I picked Number One Son and Little Miss Sunshine up from the airport yesterday. Again, Luton confirms that it’s just a nightmare of a place… Can’t think of a worse one to fly from (though apparently they now charge you to park a bike at Stansted, which seems crazy).

Anyway, they showed me enough pics and waxed lyrical enough about the food, the hotels, the places they saw, etc… to make the prospect of flying to Malaga to hire a bike seem really appealing. That’s something I’m going to have to think very seriously about. I don’t know if any of my normal riding chums would want to come, or whether it’s something best done with The Fair Lady Scully on the pillion.

I’m thinking a scouting trip should be a solo or small-group-of-blokes kind of thing, just to get the lie of the land. Then if it’s all good, go back with TFLS and show her a good time (ahem, I meant nice roads and good stops – stop with the impure thoughts!) when I know what the score is with riding over there.

Of course, I could just be thinking that because in my heart of hearts I’m itching to ride on dry tarmac with the kind of vivacity you can’t really show with a pillion on the back…