Apparently my bike has an invisibility cloak.
Kent, it's lovely. Garden of England, full of sweeping hills, green stuff, sheep and yokels. In the 1960s the government decided to improve traffic flows by building a few motorways; the M20 took a lot of the traffic away from the A20, which meant that my ride to Canterbury from Bearsted this morning along the A20 was fun. There were three cars doing the same journey, all of whom saw (or possibly heard) me coming and gave me ample room to overtake.
As the weather was clear and the roads were dry, I wasn't hanging about much, enjoying riding to the top of my abilities. Yes, I was speeding, driving at around 90mph. As I approached Charing I noticed a purple 52 plate Ford Focus coming the opposite way to me, indicating right to turn across my carriageway and down the Hart Hill road. "No problem" thinks I, "he'll notice me and stop."
Luckily I was paying attention to him the whole time and when he started moving across my lane I swerved over and held down the horn. He still didn't stop. I have a mark on my jeans where I took dirt off his front bumper. My escapes have never been narrower, and my underwear never browner. I was pretty shaken up by this, understandably, and took the rest of the ride back at a slower pace.
It's somewhat ironic that speeding actually saved me. Had I been riding at the speed limit I would've driven straight into the passenger door, gone over the top and done some serious damage to both vehicles and myself. Speeding kills, but in this instance it saved me.