Despite concerns raised by others about the quality of the 'service' at Cotswold, I decided to take the K in for an annual service rather than schlepping all the way to Oxford to get it done at NOG, who have looked after both the K12 and 13 ever since I crossed Vines off my Xmas card list (continually charging me for four spark plugs every time my 2002 single spark 1150GS went in for service and NEVER checking the electrolyte level on my lead-acid battery (because it has a sealed for life battery, not) and deciding that Bahnstormer didn't really care one way or another.
It's a strange place for sure. It seems as though the Motorrad place has been built in the underground car park of the car dealership and althouh someone has gone to expensive lengths to try to tart it up (still a working progress (sic) ), it still looks like the inside of a very large container parked in the corner. My mate made me promise to tell him if the coffee machine was working as it had never worked in all the time he has been going there. It wasn't. But it did have a sign on it saying that the fire alarm would be tested at 11 am today and that we should not evacuate. It wasn't and we didn't.
So, I was told that to get a coffee one had to exit said container and trek across the car park, into the car dealership and up the escalator to the coffee bar where a gorgeous young thing in a length of navy coloured crushed silk, fashioned into a sort of elegant dress, would gladly make me a happy man drink of my choosing and supply any number of pastries.
This she duly did. Many times.
The bike was booked in for 9am 'so you are first in' (to get to be first in at Vines one had to be up at sparrow-fart and on the ramp by 7).
It was all pleasant and efficient enough but the staff spent way too much time chatting to one another and way too little attending to customers. However, as first on the ramp my bike was whisked away for an oil and filter change, full brake fluid change, final drive oil change and a general wipe over with an oily rag.
The bike was ready by just after 11 and there were only two other customers in by that time with two more having troubled the staff with queries about duff batteries (on a GS) and to pick up some horrendously expensive luggage.
It then took the guy almost 25 minutes to prepare my invoice amd I was the only customer waiting to go remeber. I don't know if it is just me but I want to strangle someone when it all goes pear-shaped at the end like this.
Anyway, the bill came to £265 which, despite biting my tongue and saying nowt, I didn't feel was that expensive. Maybe I'm getting old.
Of course, there was no mention of lubricating my ball joint or greasing my nipples but that's modern service for you.
Now then, where did I put that young lady's number?
