Weymouth

The bike needed a service and the garage is too far away to get there and back and then back again comfortably; you get the drift I’m sure.

So a day out was timetabled and the Leica M9 came for the ride in the Billingham which was then put in the OB drybag. My old ’04 BMW R1200gs was replaced with the new (Adventure) version of it which had a different luggage system so the OverBoard backpack made sense. And so we were on our way.

The water-cooled BMW R1200 GS (Adventure) was fab by the way. Great chassis and fast, though it didn’t feel as engaging as my older one. The modern swith-gear seemed a step in the wrong direction and the instruments just seemed too busy, but there is an awful amount to report on with this bike. I guess as with the paddle shifts on my car a lot of these toys get played with of five minutes and then left.

In the end, after some miles at pace to Hive Bay and back, I found my way in Weymouth at which point the camera saw light.

It briefly amused me that both the Leica and the BMW had lineages stretching back to at least the 1920’s whilst the Weymouth Bandstand was a relative newbie from the late 1930’s. At some point over eighty years ago though it would have perfectly feasible for a chap to be on a BMW flat twin carrying a then modern Leica taking tea outside the same building. Whether this would have been advisable in 1939 is another question altogether.

The Leica in many ways seems like a problem child. Yes the #2 battery died as it always does in its own unpredictable manner. The sensor is invariably dusty and the screen is what it is. The menu system however is the difference between the new GS and the R nineT that I rode later, simple. But, the Leica glass is sublime and the 28mm ‘cron is just perfect. And so you put a lens on and walk round with that one focal length on; only a fool would change an M9 lens on a windy beach surely?

There is something about the British seaside that will always seem out of time. This was not a warm day and slightly out of season. The Condor Express, lying in the distance waits for it’s new home; clearly there is life on it but it is difficult to see, a low background noise and the odd light bearing testament to its continuing service. Further round the sound of the young Sea Cadet girls alternately singing and caterwauling into the distance breaks the polite, almost silence.

I’m guessing I should return here, it’s difficult to explain why though.

A footnote: I have just checked my own bike’s paperwork folder. 4th June 2012, the report about my bike damage when it was allowed to fall over on a ferry, the Condor Express ferry. I knew I had seen that ferry before.

By | 2017-07-06T15:57:07+00:00 April 29th, 2015|Landscapes, Leica, Motorbike photography, Travel|0 Comments

About the Author:

Andrew Butler is a professional photographer and designer based in the South West of England. He has had a long career photographing for clients as diverse as Arts Council England and Motor Cycle News.