(We parked next to another biker, who asked me if I had any spare earplugs. I had a spare pair in the glovebox for just such an emergency, and was overjoyed to use them at last! Must remember to replace them.)
Soon after Stamford we left the busy A1 for smaller roads, stopping for a coffee at the viewing area opposite the Vulcan at RAF Waddington. We crossed the Humber Bridge because Howard had never gone over it, though there wasn't much to see in the mist and drizzle. From here it was about an hour to our destination.
On Sunday we ventured to nearby Squires Cafe at Sherburn-in-Elmet, a well-known biker haunt. It was packed, so after a look at the machinery on display we retreated to Sherburn airfield for lunch.
We took a scenic route, busy with bikes, to Flamborough Head, where we walked down the wooden steps to the beach and found a small crowd of concerned bystanders around a young seal. It was lying on its back and occasionally yawning or - a crowd-pleaser - rubbing its head with its flipper, which we reckoned a sick seal wouldn't do, so we concluded it had simply not yet learned to fear humans. (An adult seal was bobbing about in the bay, no doubt ready with a telling-off and a fin slap when the rising tide delivered the baby back.)
On Monday, we were sent on our way with a packet of sandwiches each. After a promising start, the day turned cold and grey, which made Cleethorpes, where we stopped for coffee, feel depressing. Another biker asked where we were from, and when I replied "London", said "What a shit'ole!", which seemed a little unfair in the circumstances.
The sun came out on the way to Skegness, which improved both the air temperature and the atmosphere. We ate our sandwiches on a sand dune, while children rode donkeys on the beach and wind turbines turned lazily. Then it was a fast ride on long straights and sweeping bends until we were reacquainted with the A1(M) and it was all slog and traffic as far as the Blackwall Tunnel.
Home soon after 7; back to work today.