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My friend Rod (who was once my boss) was in Sydney for the weekend and thought it would be nice to catch up. The most opportune time was Sunday morning breakky, and as he was staying with Tony (who worked with me at Rod's) who lives down south, we organised for somewhere roughly half-way.

Tony suggested Signatures - on the water at Brighton le Sands. Laura and I only had a relatively short ride to get there but somehow made it 20 minutes late. Rod was waiting out the front by the road for us - with Tony and Karilyn minding the tables.

Breakfast was great, and as always it was good to catch up. I got just a bit burnt in the face, but fortunately the red washed off a few days later.

Apparently some local boys were playing some tourists in a game of Rugby somewhere out west near all the industrial parks at Homebush.

Today was the grand final of the Rugby World Cup - Australia versus the Poms. The Poms had copped plenty of bagging over their style (boring) during the lead up to the game, which only intensified after their tryless win over France. Rampaging Roy Slaven perhaps captured the sentiment best with "What a bludging, ordinary, tawdry attitude to the game England has... fat blokes waddling about, just so some slim-hipped choking idiot can plop the ball over the line every now and again. And they call that rugby!"

This first picture was taken by Matt (more about him later). Some display they had at Bondi Beach that I didn't know about/get to see.

After meeting Laura's friend Paula around lunch time we did a spot of shopping along Oxford Street. Only nobody bought anything. Not a sausage. Salvation was to be a chocolate beverage from Max Brenner's, but alas the shop was full with people lining up for tables so (sadly) we headed back home.

Quick change of clothes at home and we were back on the road scouting for a suitable venue to watch the big game. We settled on Key Largo, the pub off the Bayview Harbourside hotel. We weren't certain that it would do the trick but grabbed a table in good position just in case.

Matt and Paula joined us not long after we had settled down and we agreed that this was as good as any place to watch the footy. As the place filled up the group in front of us expanded and managed to annoy us for much of the game. If it wasn't that great big tall guy moving seats to completely block our view, or his tall mate moving his head from side to side (blocking our view), or someone passing ciggies/lighter/drinks to each other as high in the air as was possible (blocking our view), it was that tall guy rubbing his girlfrends back Daniel-san style (you remember, wax-on, wax-off).

Without wishing to dwell on the game too much (or at all for that matter), history will show that the Poms won 20-17 right at the end of extra-time after the scores had been locked at 17 apiece at full-time. I immediately SMSed all my Pommy mates to show what a good loser I was (and to completely destroy any chance they had of rubbing it in).

Laura's brother Dave was in town for the game, and he and Stephen Bradbury were at the Last Lap nightclub at Darling Harbour for the World Cup after party. The four of us cabbed it to meet them and we were somewhat relieved that Steve got us in for free (cover charge was $125.00 after the game, $250.00 if you went before the game!!!!!!).

The place was so dark (or I was so drunk) I couldn't see my hand infront of my face. Drinks were pretty exe too (around $7 bucks each) but the aircon was superbe so it fortunately wasn't too smokey. Steve is a really nice, down to earth guy (I think he was a little bit embarrassed asking if he could get the rest of us in) who said that the most important thing about his win in Salt Lake City was not the gold medal, or the fact that it was the first Aussie gold medal, but that he performed the strongest that he could have.

The only other celeb that we saw was Ian "Dicko" Dickson, who himself seemed like quite a nice guy - happy to chat with punters and just looked like he was really enjoying the night. The band performed that Men at Work song Down Under, and he joined in singing and dancing with the nearby Aussies.

Of course by the time we left the lines for cabs were miles long, the trains had stopped, the buses were full (if you could find one) and it was raining a light drizzle. We opted to walk home, regretably stopping at JBs Chicken Spot in the Cross for Chiko Rolls. When I woke up seedy the next morning I couldn't be sure if it was the grog or the dehydrated chicken drumstick that had made me so seedy.

We hadn't seen our friends John and Colleen for sometime, and had only just been thinking of them, when John called to invite us over to his place for the Rugby.

The game was the Rugby World Cup semi-final between Australia and the All Blacks. There wasn't really that much hype about it - Australia were expected to get beaten soundly - and even with my eternally optimistic outlook I was building myself up for a loss.

John had bought this super new BBQ - a Weber Q (I think I might get one of these for our place) and cooked up a storm. Colleen's salads also went down a treat. I also had my eye on John's son Oscar's hot dog, but that just would have been greedy.

It was a great night, great hosts, and great result (in case you've forgotten already, we flogged the Kiwis) - everyone kicked a goal!

Now that Laura and I are spending considerably more time on our motorbikes, we thought it was high-time to get some of our safety gear sorted out. To that end I am pleased to announce that, after 12 years of riding sports bikes and making do with jeans and a jacket, I have finally invested in some leathers.

Not wishing to leave her out, Laura also bought a pretty Shaun Giles replica helmet (with stars and sparkles) the week before.

This story also disappeared in the Great Missing Story Mystery of 2003, so here is as abbreviated explanation of what the photos were all about.

We woke up with plenty of time to get to Berowra (our first meeting point), but for some reason Laura thought pancakes would make a great start to the day. We finally got out the door by around 9:30am (the meeting time was 9:30 for a 10:00 am departure) and we still had at least 45 minutes riding ahead of us.

We maintained a good pace and pulled into the Berowra Mobil just as Manning (the ride's backmarker) were pulling out. A few sets of lights later and we were part of the convoy. It was a fairly short ride to the first stop - the Road Warriors cafe on Mount White. There was quite a few different groups there and it was way too busy to order food so we held off and waited for lunch.

Apart from a few more minor stops to allow the bunch to regroup, we were pretty much straight through to Patonga. By the time we got there the threatening looking clouds had closed in and it rained for a few minutes. Thankfully it didn't last long and we'd be able to enjoy our lunch stop. One of the riders husbands had driven to the beach with a barbecue and an esky full of snags - easily the best lunch of any ride day.

The rain started lightly so we headed home trying to beat the worst of it. Me got back to the cafe on Mount White pretty much unscathed, but unlike most of the others decided to keep going in an effort to beat the storm. We needn't have bothered, as no more than a kilometre down the road the heavens opened and we were almost instantly soaked from head to toe. Not only was it wet, but it was very cold and the wind-chill factor was very high. We were still a long distance from home, the traffic on the highway was getting thick, we were cold and wet, and we couldn't see more than a few metres in front of us because of the mist. Just horrible.

But the story had a happy ending - well not so much happy as not sad. We made it in one piece and managed to thaw out by spending a very long time enjoying a hot shower. We really should think about getting some wet weather gear.