So……
I pass 3 bike cops parked up.
I’m ambling along so no dramas.
5 miles up the road 2 bikes on me with blues on gesticulating to pull over.
So I do ….
Helmet off, shake hands, say hello.
Bottom line is I have no number plate.
Long long story short……..
Cops were amazing. Recon some scrote or kids nicked it as a souvenir.
They escort me , at some speed, to a police station 10 miles away, I have to work hard to keep up. Surprisingly they both are in front of me, I thought they’d envelope me.
Get put in for interview at the station with 2 bike blokes and a duty constable. I have my shit in one like re docs etc.
As soon as they realise I’m not a “wrong un” they could not be more helpful, polite, professional etc.
Out of intervention, into “normal” office.
“Mark, we are going to help to get home” says the desk guy.
Their line is that I’m a victim of crime and they are sorry.
3 of us eventually go outside with an envelope, pen and tape to do a bodge.
We chat bikes for 10 mins, and I get their names to send a letter of thanks to their boss, which I definitely will.
All 3 Cops are v happy to send me on my way like that.
I even get a cup of coffee.
What a fantastic interface with the police, mutual respect, mutual interests.
I was due a stop anyway so hadn’t even cost me much time, it’s turning into a great day.
I hope any foreign types would be afforded the same help in the UK.
Anyway onwards, with a renewed faith in the human race.
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