So I was driving to work on the A30 today, doing a comfy 60mph on a stretch of dual-carriageway near my village, when I noticed a blockage in the road 1/2 mile ahead of me.

A lorry had stopped and two or three cars behind it, hazard lights flashing.

It was then I noticed the beer barrel rolling downhill towards me, in my lane of traffic, and a tubby man chasing after it.

I am pleased to say I didn’t panic – it was coming down the centre of the road, I watched it bimbling along and determined which side of the camber it was going to come down, and so stayed in my lane. It missed me. I stopped, set my hazard lights going, and once the blockage cleared was cut-up on the inside by a Mercedes which evidently felt it was more important than everyone else.

Saturday? I forget what I did on saturday. Mostly domestic stuff, I am sure. Shopping and some bike prep, too.

Sunday was off to the monthly meet of [www.tvam.org] for my first day’s Advanced Rider training; aside from the appalingly early start at 0930, you turn up, are greeted by everyone you meet – there must have been 300+ bikes/bikers there – pick up a raffle ticket which allocates an observer for youj, pair off and go out for a ride.

I paired up with a Scots gent named Ewan, who alternately led and followed me on his Triumph Sprint ST; after 50 or 60 miles I was calmer and settling into it, and was pleased that in my written report I got “good” or “ok” on all categories but one, the which we agreed upon (viz: that my mirrors do not give enough rear visibility and I’d do well to get them swapped.)

After the training run I went for a pootle in the countryside – Britain is lovely in the autumn, all golds and browns and greens, very seasons of mist.

Then homemade sweet-potato soup with Parmesan, and an early night.