EVIL MUSLIMS

TO GALVESTON, TEXAS: MARCH 16
Yes, well...My apologies, readers, if I occasionally write what I feel. We have had Homeland Security PR, coffee, Malls, obesity and politics. Here is a return to travel. I have 650 Ks to ride. Edinburgh to Galveston is flat. A highway fly-over rates as a hill. Cloud hides the sun – fortunately, no rain. Other dangers lurk: primarily, an Old Man's stupidity. I take on gas midway. Three Harleys cruise into the gas station. I ask permission to touch the big, broad, leather seats. Heaven!
Excitement makes me forgetful. I run short of fuel 150 Ks from Galveston and discover that I left my billfold and address book on the gas pump at the last halt.
This is bad.
Actually, this is very bad.
I am almost out of gas. I am staying with Carol and Peter Davis in Galveston.
I have their telephone number. I don't have 50 cents for a phone call.
Very bad...
The gentleman manning the cash register at the gas station is an immigrant from Karachi, Pakistan. Yes, he is one of those evil Muslims. I relate my predicament and offer my camera for a gallon and a half of gas. He is unimpressed by the camera.
He says, “This is something that happens to everyone some time in their lives.” He takes six dollars from his billfold. “Is that sufficient?”
“More than sufficient.”
I ask for his address. He tells me not to be silly.
This is my thank-you letter to a dear kind sweet man....And, of course, one of those evil Muslims.

ROYALS, LEDBURY AND LUGGAGE

EDINBURGH, TEXAS: MARCH 15/16
We live in a small village back home. Ledbury is our local market town. The route to Ledbury from our cottage runs through country lanes and over hills and through ancient woods and glorious green pastures. My wife, Bernadette, tailors hand and travel luggage. She numbers movie stars and Royals amongst her clientèle. Her work is exhibited at Ledbury Market House. The Market House was built in the 13th century. This is not a digression. I am writing of coffee. An Italian coffee shop serves great coffee upstairs on Ledbury's Main Street. The coffee shop is the same distance from our cottage as MoonBean is from my Edinburgh motel. Ledbury is a pleasant drive from our cottage. Riding to MoonBean is a procession of Malls. I want to go home.

Find photographs of Bernadette's luggage and of me talking with one of her Royals in the biography section at www.simongandolfi.com
OR VISIT www.bernadettesbags.com