I hadn’t used the bike for a long time. The poor old ST1100 had been languishing in the garage, still connected to the Optimate battery tender. And these machines are meant to be ridden. So I decided it was time to sell it. Also, the insurance was costing over €30 per month, which was a bit of a waste of money for a vehicle which was not being used.

So how to sell it? Apart from Ebay, there is a site in France called Leboncoin. Unfortunately advertising the bike on either of these two places would create issues. If someone wanted to take it for a test-ride, this was a problem. You see, the roads around here are gravel and grass, and for someone used to tarmac roads this would have been ….. interesting. An alternative would have been to arrange to meet the prospective buyer outside the village church, for example. But then there’s the issue of trust. Meeting a stranger in the village and handing over the keys to one’s motorcycle so he can ride off into the sunset? Um, not likely. After much thought, I found an alternative solution.

In the neighbouring town of La Ferte St. Aubin there is a motorcycle dealer called JT Moto. They sell second-hand motorbikes and also do repairs. I don’t recommend them. If you’re considering buying or selling a bike through this dealer, don’t. I’ll explain why shortly.

But it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now bear in mind the bike was in good condition with no defects. Due to my poor telephonic French (I can cope fine with face-to-face conversations; lots of hand gestures come in useful – but speaking French on the telephone is still a bit of a problem), the Mrs telephoned the sole proprietor of JT Moto and arranged that the bike would be dropped off there. In the dealership, we agreed a price. The dealer was to take 10% commission which I considered reasonable. He said he would telephone with any updates on the sales process, and also promised to advertise the bike on his website and on Leboncoin.

Months went by without any news. I saw no evidence that the bike had been advertised on his website, on Leboncoin, or indeed anywhere else. Finally The Mrs telephoned him for an update, and he said there had been no interest. I dropped the price by €500. At this point I joined a French Pan European Owners Facebook group where I advertised the bike for sale, explaining all the farkles it had, where it currently was, and included the dealer’s telephone number. I got lots of Facebook “Likes” but that was the only reaction.

Another month or so went by and the dealer was again contacted. No advertising, no interest. I again dropped the price, down to €1000. Again on Facebook, I reposted the “for sale” notice with the new bargain-basement price. Again lots of Facebook “Likes” but that was the sum total of the interest.

Yet another month went by, and now I’d had enough. Calling the dealer on Tuesday, we arranged that I would collect the bike on Friday, and he was asked to make sure the tyres were properly inflated and that the bike started up without issues. The dealer promised to do this, and give us a call when it was ready.

Friday arrived, but no phone call. The Mrs called the shop but there was no reply.

The following Tuesday the Mrs called again, saying we would be turning up on Friday to collect the bike, and please make sure it started and the tyres were inflated. The dealer agreed, offering no excuses as to why he had not done this last week as he had promised.

So Friday morning off we went to La Ferte St. Aubin.

And…..

The bike wasn’t ready. The tyres were indeed properly inflated. However, the dealer pointed out that the fork seals were leaking. The battery was completely dead. And the front disk brake was cracked. Also the petrol gauge was no longer working. I’ve no idea what he’d done to the poor thing.

To cut a long story short, he fitted an old battery which had about three watts of power left in it, and used his jump start booster to get the bike started.

Of course, on the way home the bike died. And the battery was again dead.

Now my emergency car repair kit did not include any jumper cables, so we telephoned a friend who was fortunately available. He drove out with some jumper leads, so I was able to get the bike going again. It died again twice more during the remaining trip home.

Also, by this time France had introduced new regulations. A roadworthiness test now needed to be carried out in order to ride the bike on the roads, or indeed sell it. This would not normally have been a big deal – after all in the UK the Pan needed an MOT test every year. This time, however, there were problems which needed to be rectified; the brake disk, leaking fork oil, fuel gauge, and a new battery. And I didn’t have the funds.

Well, as nobody was interested in purchasing the bike, I decided to scrap it.

Some internet research on scrapping a vehicle in France resulted in the discovery that there is a scrapyard in the nearby town of Salbris for this sort of thing. No appointment needed. So on Tuesday last week I sadly rode the bike there with the Mrs following in her car. It turned out to be a particularly hot day, and wearing full leathers was not fun! At least we did this task in the morning.

To solve the dead battery issue temporarily, I borrowed the car battery from the Hyundai Getz, used bungee cords to strap it to the seat in front of the top box, and made up some short battery cables leading from the Hyundai battery to the bike’s battery connectors. I used heavy-duty crocodile clips. This worked fine.

At the scrapyard, we started the paperwork. The first thing to be done was to put the bike onto the weighbridge. One of the scrapyard employees was in charge of the weighing procedure. He looked at the bike and blinked in astonishment. “But that’s a perfectly good bike!” he exclaimed. “Why are you scrapping it?” We explained that we had tried selling it but nobody was interested. And getting it in shape to pass the roadworthiness test was a financial bridge too far. “Hang on a minute,” he said. “I’ve got a KTM 650. I know bikes. You can’t let this one be scrapped. I’ll give you €100 for it.”
“Done.” I said. “You’d better run over to the office and stop the scrapping paperwork!”

Five minutes later the new transfer-of-ownership paperwork was signed (despite the lack of a roadworthiness certificate…) and I had a cheque for €100.

So that’s that. I’m no longer a biker.

Still, at least the Pan will soon once again be on the road somewhere instead of being melted down in order to make new Renault body panels, or whatever it is they do with scrap metal these days.

And another reminder: JT Moto in La Ferte St. Aubin – avoid them like the plague.