First one was only a nearly oops. Travelling along Jermyn St this morning in the drizzle, when a ped leaps off the kerb. Instinctive handful of brake, and the ABS chirps a bit and I come to an abrupt halt. Quite impressive. Second one was more real. Stopped on Knightsbridge to let Flavio Briatore cross the road - he smiled, and thanked me, so I said, "You're welcome, Mr Berlusconi." I wondered why he looked miffed for ages until the penny dropped. Anyway, 400 more miles on the CB13, six more landmarks.[1] Descending the hill by Blaenavon, it ran out of fuel, until I got onto level ground at he bottom, whereupon it had sufficient to get to Waitrose at Llanfoist nr Abergavenny. I really need some earplugs now; the windroar at M'way speeds is deafening. Also, under braking, it dives more exaggeratedly than an Argentinian centre-forward - do I need to up the fork preload, or the damping? It's got little nuts and dials on the fork tops - a first for me. [1] Caerwent, Blaenavon, New Radnor, Aymestry, Rous Lench and Churchill