By this time the chimps loading the bikes were too far back to get their attention so we had to make do with what the there was....I carry a releasable cable tie for the brake lever, so was able the stop too much for and aft movement. I use webbing loops to secure the ratchet straps to the bike, but had to put a strap across the seat to immobilise the bike....something I avoid if possible to prevent damage. Getting out was a total assault course, avoiding trip hazards galore and doing our best to avoid damaging other folks machines.
We always secure our helmets to the bike for the crossing and take one small rucksack for overnight kit, but others were carrying helmets and luggage, boshing into bikes as they tried to negotiate a passage.
There was a girl by the exit who suddenly forgot English as I tried to remonstrate, so straight up to the desk; the guy there was not able to address my complaints, but we arranged that he would get someone to see me at 6.30.
In the meantime, into the cabin....a good one overlooking the pointed end of the vessel, shower and up to the Sky Bar to get tuned up.
At the appointed hour we met the ships Chief Officer. There was no point in anger so a calm and measured discussion took place.
I explained that the motorcycles on the ship were mostly expensive machines worth into the tens of thousands of pounds, yet he was expecting the owners and passengers to clamber over and through them, something they would never expect car drivers or passengers to do. Why were we treated differently? We had mostly paid handsomely fot the privilege of being treated like second class citizens.
We were then expected to negotiate a dangerous journey carrying kit through a legion of trip hazards.
He explained that they did so in order to get everybody on as if they were doing us a favour...I said that the motive was greed, that they were cramming in as many bikes as possible for profit. He said that we could claim if there was any damage; I told him that was hardly the point. I said that they knew how many bikes were booked on; if they didn't have room they should reduce the numbers of bikes they book on.
There was nothing to be done now, and the issue really was one of Company policy, and I explained that I would be complaining in the strongest terms.
We parted amicably!
The usual excess in the Explorers Kitchen, decent nights kip and into a dreary Newcastle.
For the first time ever the Border tart made us take off helmets, off and away north.
We usually stop at The Barn at Beal, overlooking Lindisfarne, the sun had come out , all was serene. Decent lunch and carry on, arriving back to find miles of gravillons between Blair and home...back on exactly 2800 miles.
Sent from my SM-G960F using Tapatalk
We always secure our helmets to the bike for the crossing and take one small rucksack for overnight kit, but others were carrying helmets and luggage, boshing into bikes as they tried to negotiate a passage.
There was a girl by the exit who suddenly forgot English as I tried to remonstrate, so straight up to the desk; the guy there was not able to address my complaints, but we arranged that he would get someone to see me at 6.30.
In the meantime, into the cabin....a good one overlooking the pointed end of the vessel, shower and up to the Sky Bar to get tuned up.
At the appointed hour we met the ships Chief Officer. There was no point in anger so a calm and measured discussion took place.
I explained that the motorcycles on the ship were mostly expensive machines worth into the tens of thousands of pounds, yet he was expecting the owners and passengers to clamber over and through them, something they would never expect car drivers or passengers to do. Why were we treated differently? We had mostly paid handsomely fot the privilege of being treated like second class citizens.
We were then expected to negotiate a dangerous journey carrying kit through a legion of trip hazards.
He explained that they did so in order to get everybody on as if they were doing us a favour...I said that the motive was greed, that they were cramming in as many bikes as possible for profit. He said that we could claim if there was any damage; I told him that was hardly the point. I said that they knew how many bikes were booked on; if they didn't have room they should reduce the numbers of bikes they book on.
There was nothing to be done now, and the issue really was one of Company policy, and I explained that I would be complaining in the strongest terms.
We parted amicably!
The usual excess in the Explorers Kitchen, decent nights kip and into a dreary Newcastle.
For the first time ever the Border tart made us take off helmets, off and away north.
We usually stop at The Barn at Beal, overlooking Lindisfarne, the sun had come out , all was serene. Decent lunch and carry on, arriving back to find miles of gravillons between Blair and home...back on exactly 2800 miles.
Sent from my SM-G960F using Tapatalk
