It turns out, updating a guidebook is just about as much work as writing it in the first place. The new edition is out now. It’s bigger, and while I won’t claim it’s better, it’s every bit as good as the last one—and, most importantly, it’s bang up to date.

If you believe the statisticians, each year over 33,000 people come to Scotland on a motorbike. I’d seen many of them slogging up the M74 on their way to Skye or the NC500. What they need is a guide book, I’d often thought, to tell them that Scotland starts at Gretna, not Stirling, and that the best-known roads don’t always make for the best day’s riding. Like a bee on a visor, resolve hit me one Saturday morning when I’d

I was nicked for speeding on the M73 round Glasgow a couple of years ago. I was on my Bonneville, hurrying home after arranging my sister’s funeral. My mind was elsewhere. If it hadn’t been, I’d have probably have kept to the speed limit or at least have noticed the police car which had been following me for the last few miles. In my defence (there isn’t one: Ed) it was a Sunday evening, the roads were quiet and I was in a hurry. I didn’t play the sympathy card, just held my hands up and apologised. The policemen initially threw the book at me – quite rightly, I was fairly flying when they pulled me over  – but, after realising that I wasn’t a knucklehead recklessly burning the miles for the sake of it, they eased up on the severity of the offence and I was able to keep my licence. 

I’ve lost track of the amount of stuff that has vanished out of my panniers over the years. Not through theft or carelessness but because of poor design and suspect catches. I don’t know why BMW have persisted with side-opening panniers for so long, or why they still offer them on some models. Side-openers are hard to close when full and a pain to open without the contents spilling out. And then there is the possibility – even probability - that, at some point, they’ll open without warning and dispense the contents onto the highway at 70mph.