Mopedland Stories
Mopedland > Stories > Return to...
There's something very pleasant about a Sunday ride up the eastern coastal roads at the end of the summer after the tourists are gone. The fields have been harvested, and you can see for miles across the flat East Anglian landscape from your lofty perch on the saddle of an early, tall framed moped. Setting off in the late morning with David Evans on his NSU Quickly F in accompaniment with my Phillips P50, we drifted gently northward through the cool, leafy glades of Tunstall Forest to the tune of the lazy beat from our little, low revving motors. Emerging from the woodlands, we headed into the light onshore breeze down the Aldeburgh road as the warm midday sun burnt off the last of the sea mist from the meadows. Through the ancient town, timeless as ever, and along the coastal road to Thorpeness, Leiston, and lost Dunwich, where the church bell is still reputed to chime from beneath the waves. Then the delicate peace of the Walberswick peninsula, trapped in time by the 19th century English impressionist, Phillip Wilson Steer, and onward up the Cove coastline. A goodly ride, and time for a break and refreshment as a Café sign considerately appears on the verge, pointing down the beach road. The track emerged at an old-world wooden building, almost like a large beach hut, painted in blue and white stripes and trimmed with pierced gables around the felted roof. We were greeted by an elderly lady and her husband, brewing tea on a Primus stove, "Hello dears, you must be ahead of the rest, they'll probably be along in a moment". The inside walls were pinned with old photographs of autocycles and cyclemotors, Excelsior, James, Power Pak, Francis Barnett, Cymota - even a Tailwind! While taking tea and cakes on a veranda table and watching the sea breaking across the sand, the old man told his tale. "We don't really open much these days, but the lads have always come here at this time of year, and they're such a nice bunch of chaps".
The chat was however cut short by the arrival of some dozen or so exuberant riders on autocycles and old mopeds, who parked in line outside the front of the Café to either side of our own bikes. Some of them we recognised from the pictures inside, and quickly got into conversation as we all took more tea and cakes while looking at their machines. An Autobyk, a Raynal, NSU Quickly L, Norman Nippy, a beautiful Dayton autocycle in blue and white, another Phillips Gadabout P39 in red and gold, a superb Achilles Lido in two-tone green, then two identical Raleigh RM12s complete with flyscreens as though they'd just stepped out of the showroom. A Teagle mounted on an Edwardian Humber Cycle frame, Ducati Cucciolo and Scott Cyc-Auto, a dainty little Hercules Her-cu-motor, James, Francis Barnett, and an immaculate New Hudson in splendid green and gold livery, whose tall rider dressed in traditional greatcoat, leather helmet and goggles looked strangely familiar from somewhere?
They said they all lived and worked at a small village inland where many people were keen on small machines, which suited their local lifestyle. We talked with them of the NACC, its activities and our rallies, and though they replied what a great idea it was, and such a wonderful organisation it sounded - they had never heard of it! We had a brilliant ride back, together with this friendly group and their marvellous machines glinting in the afternoon sun, until we came upon the A12 where we split south, while they crossed over and onward to the Anglian heartland. As we waved our goodbyes to the last couple of riders disappearing up their track into the trees, it seemed like I caught a glimpse of an old white and black lettered signpost leaning in the corner hedgerow. Ipswich 30-something, and back to the left "Mopedland" - then a large lorry passed us by and it was gone!
First published, August 2001
Mopedland > Stories > Return to...