don’t think it’s funny! The application of Dr Beecham’s powders has failed to stem the flood, and, in the absence of a small dutch boy to put a finger in the dyke, I am forced to ride looking like Russell Crowe in Gladiator. The ancient Romans invented the Sponge on a Stick to use during their communal ablutions and it is abundantly clear to me that Touratech need to turn their Teutonic imaginations to something similar that can reach up inside a helmet and let me blow my nose. Athlete-style pinching between fingers is a desperate half-measure, but after my adventures with fuel cans last week the tips of my gloves are covered with petrol. Petroleum Jelly may be a popular skin defender but in unleaded form it’s just painful.
I read somewhere that the cold virus doesn’t like extremes of temperature, a fact which I held onto as consolation while having to ride in the sub-zero dawn with my visor open (yes, the special BMW Insta-fog coating is still working well). Didn’t help – clearly I have the polar bear of viruses which sticks its purple tongue out at minus 0.5 and takes shelter in my sinuses. Keep your fingers crossed for me that when I get back to Ruby this evening my helmet will still fit…..