Well that little old thing called KFest seems to be going from strength to strength here in the disUnited Kingdom and attracting K riders from near and far.

The latest gathering over the weekend of 26-29 Jul was planned by franktherat (again) with Pembrey Race Course and the vintage motorcycle club race weekend as the chosen excuse destination. Through the power of facebook, an intrepid crew was brought together and some poor, unsuspecting, Air B&B owner accepted a booking...

Sounds as if you all had a great time,now that i'm one of don't work wont work club could you PM me with info when your next meet as i don't do Facebook ect,

Yes a great weekend was had....and the Airbnb owner was lovely.

My original plan was to take Gretel for the outing. She has been languishing in the garage while Heidi had all the fun of the Scotland tour and, having had exactly the same mileage back in Oct 17 she was now almost 8000 miles behind. I have tried to give both bikes an equal run, but 6 months off the road with no MoT (MoT tester was sacked on the day that she was due to go in last Oct and then, with one thing and another, she stayed off the road until this June). So, the night before the gathering, Gretel was rolled out of the garage and checked over. She fired up immediately (battery had been on charge as a precaution) and immediately rewarded me with a dump of gear oil on the drive! In my experience, these old girls are prone to sulking and this was her having a sulk. I cleaned up the mess and noting that the leak seems to have stopped, took her for a blast down to the local servo to fill her tank and make sure that she was good to go for the weekend. When I got home though, the sulking was clearly continuing - the left fork seal was weeping badly and fork oil had dribbled down the fork and all over the brake calliper. I have a spare set of fork seals in the garage, but I was still concerned about the gear oil leak and it was too late in the day to start open-bike surgery. So, Gretel was returned to the back of the garage to sulk by herself and Heidi brought out for the ride instead. Trouble was, Heidi, after performing faultlessly all around Scotland had noticed that Gretel was now getting my attention and so she started sulking too. Only a little sulk - the front brake switch had decided to give up the ghost. As I tried to remove it for inspection, it wouldn't budge and after several attempts simply tore to pieces. With some difficulty (and molegrips) I finally was able to remove the broken stub from the handlebar assembly. Fortunately, I had a spare switch cable, but this of course meant that I had to take the fuel tank off to replace it. Amazingly (the first thing that had gone right that day), it only took me 30 minutes to change the cable and replace the fairing and Heidi was fully functional again - sulk over. Rather than ride back to the servo to fill Heidi's tank for the trip, I decided to syphon the new fuel out of Gretel's tank via a 5 litre jerry can. All was good for the first 5 litres, but I rewarded myself with a mouthful of petrol on the second 5 litres. I don't know if you have experienced this - but it is not recommended at all. I was like a human petrol pump, with petrol coming out of my nose!! Note to self - don't suck hard on a tube already full of petrol. Fortunately I survived the experience and completed the fuel transfer without further incident.

Friday 26 July 2019: The Gathering

The forecast was reasonable for the weekend - sunny clouds and pleasantly warm, but for the early part there was a risk of rain showers. As we wouldn't be doing mega-miles and would be spending sometime at the race track wandering around, I opted for my summer riding gear (armoured chinos and lightweight vented jacket) rather than my heavy duty all-year-round gear but put my fluorescent all-in-one water proof oversuit in the glove box...just in case.

With the tyres given one last kick for good luck and the bike loaded with weekend essentials (beer, doritos and a change of underwear), at just after 10:00, I was off. The first leg was short by anyones standards - a mere 4.5 miles to Shauns house where I would join up with the Kfesters that had stayed there overnight. His house wasn't hard to spot with 3 K bikes blocking the drive and a cafe job taking pride of place under cover.  I was soon parked up on the pavement and greeted by Shaun, Frank, Olaf and Colin. 

I must admit, I didn't get an immediate sense of ready to go-ness so accepted a cup of coffee and stood around chatting while Frank got on with replacing the injectors on Shauns cafe racer and Colin and Olaf added unnecessary polish to their bikes. To be fair, Olaf had come all the way from Cork and Colin from London, so perhaps there were a few specks of dirt and squashed flies making their bikes look untidy.


I wrongly assumed that Shaun was getting his bike ready for the ride...and it didn't look like we would be leaving any time soon, but as it turned out, he was going to come along in his van with his KTM in the back for company. Probably just as well.

Cups of hot stuff dispatched, final buff & polish complete, cafe racer abandoned and the bikes (and trailer) were lined up on the road and ready to go...well some of us were!

Finally, at 11:25 (for a 11:15 departure), we were on our way. The next part of the trip was necessarily a motorway hike - you can get across the River Severn and into Wales avoiding the motorway, but it is a fairly urban dogleg up via Gloucester, so the motorway is normally the best bet and we were soon on the M4 and crossing the Prince of Wales bridge and into Southern Wales. Normally, I would hang a right soon after crossing the river and head up to Abergavenny and into the Brecon Beacons, but we had a rendezvous with Dale at the motorway services near Cardiff, so stayed on the motorway. Traffic was moderate, but moving steadily and, as we were limited to 60mph by Olaf and his trailer, we just pottered along in the midst of the congestion. While we were not in a great hurry and didn't have far to go, I must admit that I do prefer to go faster and get clear of the traffic. 

Having successfully rendezvoused with Dale at 12:20, our little band had grown to 5 K bikes and were on our way again and heading up the A470, through Merthyr Tydfil, and into the Brecon Beacons. After a short but enjoyable run, we pulled over at the car park popular with walkers climbing Pen y Fan (886m). Even though it was a Friday, there were a good number of cars parked up, along with a detachment of squaddies, but we were able to find enough space for our bikes and took advantage of the greasy spoon selling tea and snacks. Well, it was lunch time after all and the sun was shining, so why not? Suitably refreshed, we were about to mount up again when, inexplicably, Olaf wandered off to use the facilities and then came back and fiddled with the copious amount of stuff squirrelled away in his trailer. These trailer bikers are not to be hurried, it seems!

We rejoined the A470, headed north until turning off on the A4215 towards Sennybridge and then back towards the south west after joining the A4067. This was a cracking biking road and was busy with bikers - loads of them! We certainly weren't hanging about, but did the polite thing and kept left and allowed the faster bikes through. Clearly these other bikes were part of an organised ride out - and well spread out. They overtook us for the most part of the 12 mile stretch of road, but as we emerged from the Brecon Beacons national park area and back into suburbia, there were the back markers waiting at roundabouts and junctions for the stragglers to come through. I guess it never works when you have speed freaks and slow coaches in a big group on a ride out! We wended our way through the urban traffic, skirting Swansea, paused at a MacDonalds in Llanelli for a comfort break and then pressed on to Burry Port, arriving at our Air B&B just before 16:00. Perfect timing - we had the place from 16:00.

The air B&B was a good size newly built detached house, with a block paved parking area to the front and a maintenance free astroturf back garden. Most importantly, there were beds for 10 and a large, sociable kitchen. Our host greeted us a little warily - probably wondering who on earth she had let her precious property to for the weekend. We parked up on the hard standing and laid claims to various bedrooms inside. Most of our breakfast supplies had been brought in Olaf's trailer and some of us brought essential supplies with us; others made the short walk down to the local shop to stock up for the weekend. The landlady pointed out that the front door handle was wobbly (fixed that for you ma'am) and warned us about the sensitive smoke alarms (more of those later).
Bruce arriving on his lovely RS with dodgy old tyres 

As we settled in to the first few beers, more K's arrived and filled the parking area. Eventually, Olaf's trailer was banished to the back garden to make more space!
Our numbers had increased to 9 K bikes by early evening with the arrival of Raj and Sean from Ireland



With bikes put to bed, there was nothing for it but to be sociable and in true K bike traditions, we all got on very well together. Slow Phil turned up in his van and added a keg of beer to bar. Now, you'd certainly struggle to get that on a K bike! 

After much chat and many beers, Olaf (who had adopted the role of Chef du Maison) set about whisking up omelettes for everyone. Now that man is a human whisk - but the omelettes were well received.
Olaf, Paul,Bruce & Stephen at the omelette bar

The talk continued until the wee hours, helped along by a few drams of Bushmills (thanks Raj) and several more beers, until slowly people started drifting off to bed. Imagine my surprise when I finally crawled upstairs to find Slow Phil had nabbed my bed (clearly not that slow)! I didn't fancy sharing so left him to it and found an empty bed elsewhere. 

Saturday 27 July 2019: A Day at the Races
I awoke early, too early - thanks to some very noisy sea gulls. It was a cool, dry morning so I decided to take a walk down to the harbour before breakfast. It was a good way to clear the beery fugg from my head as well as seeing some of the locality.

Burry Port Harbour - not much water at low tide!

...and a long wait for the tide to come back in. Hard to believe this used to be a thriving commercial port

View across Carmarthen Bay to the Gower Peninsular

I wandered back to the house to find that others had emerged and Olaf was busy preparing a full fried breakfast. Several cups of coffee and a good fry up later and we were all back to firing on all cylinders again and surprisingly few baggy heads were observed. In truth, we probably didn't actually drink that much the previous night - we just thought we had (its an age thing).

Breakfast done and dishwasher loaded (all mod cons), we began the synchronised disentanglement of the 9 K bikes and set out for the Pembery Race circuit. This was just 4.5 miles away, but the distance depended very much on the source of the data, with some devices claiming just 2.5 miles. A couple of our stalwart gang (Steve & Dale) decided, as it was so close, that they would walk to the course (why have a K bike and walk anywhere?) - unfortunately for them, the 2.5 miles was a as-the-crow-flys distance and they had a long walk. You would think they would learn from this experience - they didn't, as I'll report later! The more sensible of us, rode to the track where we met up with Robin C (not on a bike). 


The layout of Pembrey is a little odd. All the competitors, punters, facilities and refreshments were in the central paddock area, but to get there you had to cross the race track. Obviously, race marshalls were placed at barriers either side of the crossing point to prevent any one crossing during a race, but often there were back to back races and it could take some time to get to and from the paddock. Even when the crossing was opened, it usually was only open for a couple of minutes.

Most spectator vehicles (not that it was very busy) were parked on the outside of the track and the marshall indicated that we did the same. We found a suitable place on the disused runway, near the crossing point, parked our bikes and secured helmets, jackets etc. in our panniers and top boxes. All this was done to the background scream of souped up race lambrettas and other small wheel scooters trashing around the track in a haze of blue, 2 stroke oil induced, smoke. I guess you can race anything, if you have a mind to and adequate finance. As the air fell still again, the blue haze cleared and the smell of castor oil wafted away, we shambled across the track chivvied on by the marshalls who were ready to start the next race.

We quickly found where Slow Phil's sidecar team were encamped and had a natter and a look at the rigs. Actually, most of the sidecars there were K bikes and it was good to see such a good turn out. While we we gawping, the weather briefly threatened to turn for the worse and we had a brief shower - not good when in your shirt sleeves, but it soon cleared and the few damp patches on the track, whilst making things a little lively on race tyres, soon dried up again.
Photos courtesy of Raj (FB)



K bikes also featured in some of the solo races and seemed to be holding their own against the competition.
Photos courtesy of Ringfad


As per previous KFest race meets, we quickly adopted the cafeteria (the white block near the centre of the race track picture above) as our HQ. There's only so much standing up you can do and the additional caffeine was most welcome. At some point, late morning, our intrepid walkers finally arrived along with Shaun in his van. The cafe afforded a good view of the racing as the bikes came out of Dibeni Bend and into the Esses and gave a little shelter from the rain or the sun. Slow Phil wasn't racing on the Saturday, but we got track side to see the rigs in action.


In the afternoon, the weather had opted for becoming decidedly pleasant and I decided to walk around the track. You can't do this on the inside, so I waited for my chance to get back across the track and try and walk around the outside. I started walking in a clockwise direction but soon found that you can only get about half way round - there was no access past Honda Curve. This was another oddity of the Pembery circuit - there is no public view point for the start/finish line straight. I also managed to time my walk during a break in the racing, so didn't get to see any action around the Brooklands Hairpin, Speed Straight, Woodlands or the Honda Curve. Evenso, it was a nice walk in the hot sunshine. A significant amount of ground works had been done to build up large earthen banks most of the way around the circuit (noise abatement, I suspect), and these afforded good elevated views across the track...now they just need to build a bank opposite the start/finish line & commentary box, so people like me can get to view the races from all angles..
View from Brooklands Hairpin towards the Paddock

I got back to the track crossing just as it was about to momentarily open again, so rather than trying to walk the circuit anticlockwise, I returned to the paddock and grabbed some much needed refreshment from the KFest HQ. The racing continued without any serious mishaps - just a few breakdowns and the odd cross country deviation which the riders thankfully recovered from. 

As the racing drew to a close for the day, several of the Klub had already made it across the track before the last race and we could see them getting ready to go. I was with Sean & Raj and expecting to go for an end of day ride out (we had a table booked for 19:30, so couldn't go too mad). As we waited for the crossing to open again, we watched as those already on the outside of the track set off without us! As it turned out, they simply returned to the house, but not to be left out, we decided that we would go for a bit of a ride first.
Sean & Raj courtesy of Ringfad


With no particular destination in mind, the 3 of us set off on 37 mile ramble that stopped off at a picturesque place aptly named Ferryside.





The ferry (across the river Towey) had just arrived and disgorged its passengers. It was a peculiar amphibious affair, a boat with wheels - and we were blocking the slipway stopping it driving up to its compound for the night! We didn't delay it for long, but it stopped us getting proper arty photos of the bikes!
Time & Tide & amphibious ferries stop for no man.

From Ferryside we took a jink to the north to Carmarthen and then back-tracked to Burry Port. Not the most ambitious of ride outs, but in the late afternoon sunshine, a very pleasant way to finish off a good day out at the races. We squeezed our bike into the even busier K parking lot at the house - Ringfad had added to the Klub having arrived on his black K1, Shaun had parked his van next to the bikes (having removed his KTM first) and on the road we had Slow Phil's van. Quite a crowd for a peaceful, suburban backstreet. Although Ringfad was staying in a nearby B&B/hotel and Shaun in his van, our Air B&B host needs to reconsider their advert - "house sleeps 10 and provides ample hard parking for 10 K bikes. Trailers and KTMs are requested to park, out of sight, around the back please so as not to spoil the view for the neighbours". In true K100-Forum fashion, we had the obligatory discussion about tyres - mostly focused on Bruce's shiny RS Special. Bruce had told us about poor handling that he had experienced during his ride down and a quick inspection later confirmed that his tyres dated from 2008 (front) and 2005 (rear). Guess what the first thing he will be changing when he gets the bike back home! Just goes to reinforce the knowledge that K bikes really do not like tyres more than 4 years old, no matter what the make or how good the tread appears to be.

A few customary beers, doritos and dips eased us gently and most sociably into the evening's entertainment. Frank had booked us into the nearby Pembrey Country Inn restaurant for 19:30 so preparations revolved around that plan. The sensible amongst us decided to book taxis to get us the the Inn, however, not learning their lesson from earlier, Dale and Steve decided that it would be good to walk there instead and Shaun (maybe other mad men too) accompanied them. They set off a good while before our 2 taxis arrived (a bargain at £3.50 per car), but we didn't pass them enroute. I assumed that they had beaten us to the Inn, but, of course, there was no sign of them there and we were well down our first pint or two when they finally wandered in having taken another devious long cut to get there!

We were joined at the meal by some of the Bears sidecar people which made for a merry evening indeed. Pre-ordering was definitely a good idea, even if there were a couple of minor mix ups and some food placed and whipped away before the hungry diner could get much more than a smell of it and a slice of cucumber off the plate. Nevertheless, the grub was good and excellent value, the beers flowed and the conversation and camaraderie came naturally.
Photos by Frank



What a cracking night out. Sadly Dave Messenger was unable to join us for this KFest, but via Bruce's mobile, he certainly joined us in spirit and, with huge generosity, treated us all to a round of beer. Nice one Dave - Cheers, much appreciated and you were warmly remembered. Hope you can make a future gathering.

At the end of the dinner, we booked a small fleet of taxis (still only £3.50 per car) and returned to the house where we were compelled to drink more beer and talk until late in the night again. Inexplicably, around midnight (I think it was this night, but could have been a different night!), Olaf turned on the grill and started making toasted sandwiches for everyone. Unfortunately, he neglected to turn on the extractor fan and before the sandwiches got anywhere close to the grill, we were being deafened by the shrill scream of the smoke alarms in the kitchen and hall. We had been warned! The alarms were eventually silenced and the grill was turned off and we enjoyed untoasted cheese sandwiches instead. For once, I wasn't the last to go to bed - it had been a long day, so I retired just before 01:00 and into my own room.

Sunday 28 July 2019: A group ride out and back to the races
I managed to ignore the squawking sea gulls for a little longer, but on hearing voices in the kitchen downstairs, peeled myself from my comfortable bed and grabbed a quick shower to wake myself up. The shower was slow to drain (I had noticed this the day before), so armed with a suitable implement, I soon had the drain cover open and a large fur ball of hair removed - I am quite sure that none of us had contributed to that fur ball! Another minor maintenance problem fixed for free - damn, I just can't help myself! 

Not only had Frank been up with the larks, he had already taken Slow Phil to the circuit on the back of his bike. In the kitchen, Olaf was busy again conjuring up a hearty breakfast. He might not be the fastest man on 2 wheels or getting going, but he is quick with a spatular and did us all proud. There's nothing like a good, greasy, fry up to settle the stomach after a few beers the night before. 

Our plan for the day was to go for a ride out Tenby way before heading to the race track to watch some more races action. However, our party was fragmenting first. Bruce was heading straight home on his dodgy tyres (into the thunderstorms hanging over the north of Wales and NW England) and Sean, Raj & Ringfad were headed up through Wales to Holyhead and the ferry back to Dublin. That just left Frank, Olaf, Steve, Colin, Dale, Shaun and me for the Tenby ride out - which is a good number of bikes to be able to stay together. Shaun, of course was on his KTM...we let him ride with us as it was a sort of K bike after all.

The chosen destination was Manorbier, a place where Shaun had been before - beach, castle, scenery and hopefully a tea room with parking space. We set off at a good pace, taking the main roads (A40 & A477) through Carmarthen, St Clears and on to Sageston. From here we cut across country onto increasingly narrow roads that twisted and turned, dipped and rose, between high hedgerows - watching the tail light of the bike in front like a hawk in case of a need to suddenly brake for on coming traffic. Fortunately, the on coming traffic was very light and very courteous. We rode into Manobier at a little more than a spirited walking pace, past the castle and finally coming to a stop at the roadside to take in the view of the bay.

Tail end Charlie - by choice!




It certainly was a great day to be out on the bikes. A quick chat with some passing locals gave us directions to the nearest tea rooms and we were on our way again, as soon as Olaf had completed his 90 point turn. Still better slow and sure than suffering the embarrassment of a dropped bike. Climbing the steep hill, we rode past the tea rooms (not enough parking space) and continued up the road. I was low on fuel, but reassuringly there was a servo less than 4 mile away and we were headed in the right direction. However, as we climbed some of the steeper hills, Heidi reminded me that she was getting thirsty and gave the odd cough and splutter as the remaining fuel drained to the back of the tank and away from the fuel pump pick up. I kept my acceleration to a minimum to avoid exacerbating the issue and was grateful each time she made it over the brow of the hill and allowed the residual fuel to flow back to the pump suction. I had entered the servo into my GPS but as we approached a junction Frank and Colin turned right (away from the servo). I was desperate for fuel, so at the risk of going solo, I turned left and headed down to the service station. Luckily, it was down hill for the remaining 0.5 mile and I made it without running out. I realised that the others had also followed me. I fuelled up 18.54 litres - yep, she had been getting pretty empty; it had been 220 miles since my last fuel stop (11.86 miles per litre or 53.4mpg which wasn't too bad). We waited a while to see if Frank and Colin reappeared - they didn't, so I sent a message to say where we were. By this time Olaf had undressed himself and wasn't ready to go anywhere any time soon. Shaun suggested we ride back up the road we had just come down and follow where Frank had last been seen. This was a good plan. We left Olaf at the servo to cool down and headed back up the road against the flow of runners streaming down the hill (some people seem to think it is fun to run on a hot day). Just after the junction where I'd turned left and Frank right, there was a hostelry (The Paddock Inn, Penally) with a pair of K bike parked on the road outside. Not only had we found them, but thoughtfully, they had even ordered us pots of tea in anticipation of our arrival. I sent Olaf a text telling him where we were, but he didn't reply until nearly 2 hours later by which time he was back at the race track. We drank his pot of tea between us.

Some say that Shaun wasn't allowed to stand with the K bikes, others say he was just hot in his all-weather black gear and taking advantage of the shade

Thirst satisfied, we were soon on our way again and heading into Tenby. By all accounts Tenby is quite a busy little seaside town - but a sunny Sunday with a road race adding to the congestion, is not the best time to be visiting. The cars were well backed up along the main road into the town centre, but as there was little oncoming traffic (all routes into town were seriously backed up), we did that bike thing of overtaking the lot of them, albeit occasionally having to squeeze back into out own lane when we did encounter oncoming traffic. As we got to the main junction, a police car with blue light on was holding up most of the traffic even though the runners had all but disappeared from sight. We hung a left and headed straight back out of town on the A4218 and A478. A quick dogleg through Saundersfoot and we were back on the fast A477 and headed swiftly back towards Pembrey. Steve, Dale & Shaun detached from the group as we reached the course and continued on back to the air B&B (to ditch the bikes, slip into shorts and be a little more comfortable - finally, they seemed to have learnt their lesson and rather than walk back, accepted a lift in Shaun's van). The remainder of us got back to the race track at 13:45 and parked up in our usual spot, next to Olaf's bike. Our little excursion had amounted to about 90 miles.

Time to watch some more racing. We were just in time to get across the track between races, but Frank needed to attend to his top box - the 2 front bolts holding the rack in place had shaken loose and it was wobbling in a worrisome fashion. I hung back to offer moral support and he soon had it properly re-attached and secure. We then had a lengthy wait for the next track crossing - a tunnel or bridge really would be a helpful addition to this circuit!

Luckily we were in time to watch the final runs of the sidecar rigs, with Slow Phil living up to his name towards the rear of the pack. At least he din't come last and wasn't lapped - joking aside, did far better than the likes of me could ever do. As the sidecars returned to the paddock we gathered for one of the most important events of the weekend which had Frank presenting Claire Ladysidecar Duplock with a wad of cash (£600) for the Sue Berg Fund - Frank had raised this impressive amount through various fund raising schemes. Good onya Frank.

Got to love that exhaust!

It had remained a beautiful, hot day so after another spell in the KFest HQ and a wander round the paddock again, I watched the scooters as they assembled for their final race of the weekend. In the assembly area, the demented scream and blue smoke screen emanating from their race tuned engines reminded me of my time in Gibraltar where the myriad of mopeds would cluster at the runway crossing in front of the cars and buses (a bit like Pembery where you have to cross the track to get in, in Gibraltar, you have to cross a live airport runway to get in and out of the place) just waiting for the barrier to lift to be able to screech off in a cloud of 2 stroke like a swarm of angry hornets. At least this lot wore full race leathers and not vests, shorts and flip flops! As this race neared its end, I made my way back to the track crossing, intent on exploring the anticlockwise part of the circuit. This proved to be a pleasant walk, following the track perimeter around past Dibeni Bend, Spitfires and Hatches Hairpin. I continued as far as I could up the start/finish straight, but again came to a barrier that prevent me going any further without encroaching on the race track. I really didn't want to do that, right in front of the commentary box! I reckon that there is a good 1/5 to 1/4 of the circuit that you can't traverse - but at least from my current vantage point I could see the start line. What's more, I had the place to myself and enjoyed watching the final 2 races of the weekend with panoramic views across a large part of the circuit. Unfortunately, my iPhone battery had died (doesn't like it when its cold, doesn't like it when its hot) so I couldn't get any pics of these races or the vista.

With the final race complete, I wandered back to where the bikes were parked. By now, only Olaf was still at the circuit so I waited for him to get ready. We set off together, but I soon lost him behind me somewhere. Oh well, life is best lived at your own pace. I rode on alone, back to the Air B&B and parked up in the now relatively empty front yard. What better way to end a top day out with your K buddies than settle into a few beers, doritos and dips...hey who's hogging the doritos?
Pic courtesy of Franks FB
Olaf eventually rejoined us and set about sorting out his trailer ready for his trip home (he was on the late night ferry from Fishguard to Rosslare). Amazing how much stuff you can pack in that trailer! By now the beer, dorito & dip appetisers had done their business and we were ready to hit the town of Burry Port for a wild night out...and something to eat.
It was only a short walk into town and we headed to the local "bikers" pub. On the way we passed the Amelia Earhart monument - who'd have thought that Burry Port would mark the end of her transatlantic flight? Somewhat more civilised than wherever her last flight ended up though.
Pics courtesy of Franks FB



Nice to have a little local history to prove that us bikers aren't all ruffians (all the time). 

The pub, the Portobello Inn, was an interesting joint. Aside the KFest Klub, there were probably more bikes mounted on display on the wall in the pub than bikers drinking there. However, there were several locals who were amiable enough and while some of us sipped our beers politely in the "library", others took on the locals at a pool challenge. As ever, more beer does not make for better pool playing and we lost gracefully. I think it was a cunning strategy by Frank not to offend the locals and he played his part spectacularly well whilst appearing to be enjoying himself!

To emphasise the friendliness of the locals, one even called the local Chinese takeaway (just around the corner from the pub) and ordered our tea for us! Perhaps it was his cunning strategy to get rid of the drunken louts from his pub? Whatever the reason, it worked and we were soon stumbling back up the road to the house.

In truth, it was not the greatest Chinese take away I have ever had (nor the worst) but we were in need of something resembling solid food. Some had more trouble eating their dinner than others - but what happens on KFest stays on KFest (mostly) and their secret is safe with me! Olaf departed for his ferry shortly after our return from the pub. At the end of another great day, we skulked off to our beds in various states of social confusion.

Monday 29 July 2019: Homeward bound
Amazingly, without a baggy head in sight again, we awoke to another clear, blue sky day and enjoyed an alfresco coffee in the back garden. Having lost our Chef du Maison, Frank reverted to being KFest chef and rustled up a much welcomed round of egg, sausage and bacon rolls which hit the spot. It was then time to tidy up the house and be out by 10:00. We are a mostly sensible lot and, naturally, had treated the house with respect, so it didn't take much effort to tidy up and clean down the kitchen. We did have quite a lot of recycling (tins, bottles etc.) - but that just goes to show what throughly responsible and environmentally conscientious adults we can be, when needed.

We handed the place back in very good order (and subsequently received very positive and complementary reviews from the owners), bade farewell to each other and, then at 09:40, headed off in our different directions. I had loaded a potential route from home to Burry Port into my GPS and tried the trackback feature to see if it would simply reverse the route and take me home via a zig zag across the Brecon Beacons. All looked good to start with as my route took me up to the north, but after a while it simply plugged me onto the M4 motorway. Oh well, I wasn't that fussed and abandoned the route and dialled the GPS in to my home address. The motorway was fairly busy and became very congested (sheer volume of traffic rather than an accident or breakdown) once I was past Cardiff. This congestion slowed me a little, but I enjoyed filtering between the slow moving and stationary lanes of traffic. I made good time and completed the 102mile ride home by 11:40. 

Thanks once again to Frank for organising a cracking good weekend. It was great to meet up with KFest friends old and new and I look forward to the next gathering (rumours on FB about a potential meet at Cadwell Park to lend some more moral support to the Bears over the weekend of 28/29 Sep 19). Apologies for unashamedly stripping various pictures from the KFest page of FB - thanks to all photographers whether acknowledged or not!

Cheers to the KFest team that made for another fun packed, good humoured and trouble free KFest weekend - Frank, Shaun, Colin, Bruce, Steve, Dale, Olaf, Sean, Raj, Simon (Ringfad), Slow Phil & Robin - great to ride and/or socialise with you all. Until next time - cheers! 

This pic of Franks, sums it up nicely along with Franks words "It's been a mental weekend" non-PC, but meant in the best possible way!

moriarti wrote:Sounds as if you all had a great time,now that i'm one of don't work wont work club could you PM me with info when your next meet as i don't do Facebook ect,

Yeah, top weekend away moriati. You would be very welcome to join the next gathering.

It took KFest to really get me using FB, so I understand why some choose not to use it. However, there is a potential KFest meet at Cadwell Park 28/29 Sep 19...I'll put up a new ride report post as and when it firms up.

great write up Paul

gives a good feeling to us aussies , that internationally, the spirit is strong and camaraderie is enjoyed over there as well

been following the exploits on fb , as one does , but great to see all the pieces of the jigsaw together .

cheers from down here

Thank you for that great report. I will nominate you to be the exclusive reporter for your next gathering. The Kommunity of Ks continues to amaze me.

Great write up Paul!

Was a fantastic weekend and great meeting up with many who have helped me out over the years!

Fantastic reporting Paul. Keep up the good work. It is always enjoyable reading your travelogues. I'm with Stan in that you should be the Forum's main travel scribe.
Cheers
Tom

Thanks Paul..........great write up.......a great weekend all round.

It was a madness.
Had a great time all weekend and let my hair down Sunday night.
Fantastic place to stay for the weekend, £60 each for the 3 nights for 10 staying and chip in to cover the breakfast, extra food and beer.
Plenty of room at the house, I never made it into the big lounge at the top of the house.