This month's column is going to be a bit of a mixed bag. Kicking off, as you know 2012 is the centenary of the sinking of The Titanic. This has meant a lot to my wife and I (I'm not sure why, but we've always been fascinated and attended countless exhibitions and lectures and watched a multitude of lectures - we're sufficiently informed to just finish outside of the top three in a Titanic Quiz (just the two of us, competing against 24 teams of four-to-six people).
At the quiz, we won a book - "Titanic On Trial" by Nic Compton. This book takes witness statements from the two enquiries (one in the US, the other by the UK Board of Trade) and puts them into timelines.
This makes for a fascinating window into the human viewpoint of the tragedy. And what strikes you time and again is the dignified bravery of so many, from the crew who knew they were not going to make it, to so many of the male passengers (a truly heart-rending moment come from the testimony of one of the First-Class female passengers, when she relates "After the men had assisted us onto the lifeboats, many of them turned their backs on the boats so they could not see us being lowered into the water". These men must have known they were not going to see their loved ones again, so turned away so as not to show their emotion and scare their beloveds).
Of course, there are acts of cowardice; one case is highlighted by statements from passengers in one of the lifeboats who independently accuse the crewman of ignoring pleas to rescue others and getting drunk, contrasted by his claims that there were no problems and "Someone gave him a sip to keep him warm".
So the best and worst of humanity, encapsulated in one timeline. Which brings me to another, far more recent example. About five weeks ago, we ran out of milk. So I set off to buy a pint at the local shop. Our lives were about to change forever.
As I approached our local church, I spotted a tiny kitten, clearly far too small to be out on her own. So I gently approached her, as she was clearly terrified, to try to calm her. I ran home to ask Laura, my wife, to call the RSPCA to get someone to come to collect her. I then ran back to make sure the kitten was safe (there is a main road by the church, so I wanted to make sure she did not venture onto it).
As I got there, Laura called. She couldn't get through to anyone, so she was heading up with a box with a towel in it, so we could catch the kitten and make sure she was safe. Which we did. Our neighbour kindly gave us a lift to the vet to check her over. We were then asked if we wanted to take her home. Both our hearts had melted and we agreed.
In at the deep end, no bed for her, no litter tray. Nothing. The vet had given us some dry food... she had no idea what it is. So we fed her tiny pieces of ham! Over the next few days we bought things in for her and set about getting to know her.
As we had found her by the church, I knocked at the Presbytery. No reply, so I left a note to say we had found a kitten and believed there may be more in the church basement, so perhaps they would like to call the Cat Rescue League so they could come and get them. I left my phone number and my mobile. No call.
We went for another look a few days later. We quickly spotted the mother cat, so we looked down at the church basement (our kitten... now called Blossom... had been scrabbling to get down there). And spotted another kitten!
This kitten and mum clearly needed to be rescued. But we had no access to the basement. I spotted a woman coming out of the church - wearing a big wooden cross, so you'd like to think kindly? Oh no she wasn't. As soon as I started saying I'd found a kitten, she cut me off before I could even finish my sentence "It has nothing to do with us". So much for a caring, Christian attitude.
I spotted two other people, so I went over to them to see if the Priest was about. Turns out he was about to come out of the church. So I found him and asked if he had called anyone. "You can if you want!" was the snapped answer. I did get him to agree he would open the door (very big of him), so I went home and set about calling round. Being the weekend, most of the regular agencies were closed. So we looked up rescue centres, one of which put us on to a wonderful woman called Lauren, who organises the rescue and rehoming of cats (totally in her spare time). Lauren said she would be round in a few hours, so I went back to the church to tell the priest.
No reply. I waited. No reply. I noticed his front gate was open, so I went through to see if he was in. Strangely enough, now he was available! He stormed out, yelling he was going to call the police! I told him, yet again (I'd seen him perhaps 20 minutes earlier?) that I was there about the animals in his basement ("God's Creatures" as I pointed out), but he wasn't interested, just yelling he would call the police.
So much for God's Messenger on Earth caring for All God's Creatures!
When Lauren arrived, I tactfully kept out of the way. She caught him coming out from evening mass and mentioned she thought there was a cat with kittens in the church basement "Really? I don't know anything about that?" he replied.
So lying isn't a sin either?
Lauren came up with a plan. She would back off for a couple of days, then contact him in an official capacity (the cat rescue is a charity). In the meantime, Laura's mum Gail came to stay for a few days, so she went up to the church and turned on the charm offensive. And he agreed to open the door so SHE could go and look!
How big of him. The only reason I have removed him from the Eighth Level of Hell is his insistence that she get the kittens as well, not just the cat. So Laura and Gail set to befriending the mother cat, to get her confidence and give her some much needed food.
After a day or so, Gail was successful and was able to get one of the kittens (there were three). Our local vet kindly loaned a pet carrier. The next day, back went Gail and Laura and were able to get the other two kittens and mum! Lauren came to collect them and got them housed in a rescue centre (Springfield Animal Rescue) who has taken care of them, got mum (now called Jezibel) spayed and fostered them.
So look at the above. Some total strangers cared enough to rescue an animal and take her into their lives. More people, barely more thnn aquaintances in some cases, others we had never met, got involved to help, with no expectation of recompense. But the very people you expect to care? Couldn't give a stuff.
Not at the same level as Titanic by any means. But still the best and the worst of humanity... but the worst are supposed to be the ones setting an example for us all.
Rant over! To set a gentler mood, a bike that should put you in a relaxed frame of mind. The current vogue for retro-styled modern motorcycles shows no sign of abating. And the Moto-Guzzi V7 Classic certainly fits the bill.
The Moto-Guzzi V7 Classic most certainly has the looks. And the modern retro look is very much in at the moment, with Triumph's superb Bonneville having multiple variations and Kawasaki's W800 garnering praise. As tester Chris says, this is a bike that is actually quite small, meaning if you're smaller in stature, want to spend your life at a more relaxed pace and want that old-bike feel without the work that comes with owning an older bike, then the V7 Classic certainly merits a look.
Finally, an apology. This month I was supposed to report on the fuel consumption test. But, like all good testers, I checked the figures... and found an error in how they had been compiled. So back to the drawing board. I now know they work (I ran a bunch of test scenarios through them) and I am now in the process of putting in the miles and compiling a fresh - and accurate - set of numbers.
Results to follow in a few weeks... and this time I mean it. I'm also hoping to get a test ride of the Honda NC700X (the bike with the reputed 78mpg consumption), weather depending. Watch this space...