They rode into town about a week ago; just a few at first, booted and suited in black leather and waterproof polyester.
Like cowboys, or knights of old, they straddled fearsome steeds, but steeds with Xenon headlamps, instead of equine heads.
What began as a trickle became a flood, and this weekend we are overrun by pot-bellied men in helmets who drive around in noisy packs -w hen they’re not posing on the promenade, eating...
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