I spent this afternoon circulating Castle Coombe on the busa, slower than some and faster than others. I probably would have gone faster if I had not spent so much time sat in the wheel tracks of the two ladies, both of whom had particularly followable bottoms. My tyres now have curlyuppy bits like the way they serve butter in old fashioned B&Bs (only smaller and black). I am utterly, utterly fucked and will be getting an early night courtesy of an Australian red.
