AND FINALLY

Try a new tribe and see if it fits

IT WAS the Bristol Classic Motorcycle Show at the Bath and West Showground and I was up for revisiting my old identity: Biker Hen.

One of the keys to a merry marriage is to share what your other half wants to do. Mine gladly trails round museums, galleries and churches with me. So when it was his turn, he said he hoped I wouldn’t get bored but I loved the whole thing.

The secret is chatting. The biker tribe is a friendly bunch. Three striking women with hair in various shades of magenta, nose studs and fabulous leathers were part of a Satans Slaves Support group (Satans Slaves are an ‘outlaw’ motorcycle club like the Hells Angels), happy to show me their cool badges. ‘Nice talking to you,’ they said.

Then I met a guy (a bit rough looking) standing next to a fabulous cream Harley-Davidson. Four girls’ names were beautifully painted on the front fender and ‘Peg’ on the rear. Would you jump to the conclusion that these were his conquests? No, Peg was the beloved aunt who died and left him the money to buy the bike. And the four names were his nieces. Don’t take people at face value.

So much to see and talk about. There were dogs (mostly small) accompanying men and women are all ages, but mostly verging towards the grizzled (which includes us). You could buy anything from a chamois leather and polish to a bike costing many thousands, with plenty of cool clothing and accessories in between.

I admired an historic 1925 BSA with a doctor’s leather bag strapped to the back, and prowled around my favourite Harleys, customised with stunning skulls.

I wonder if a secret of staying alive and lively is belonging to more than one ‘tribe’? I fit in with art-lovers, literati, naturelovers, dog-mad folk, jazz ’n’ blues nuts, journalists, 1960s popsters, embroiderers, lovers of sacred and chamber music — and bikers. What is your tribe? And might you try a new one — just to see if it fits? ■ Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 9 Derry Street, london W8 5HY, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. Names are changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.