It could have been a "what I learned in Corsica" post[1] but I completed my attempt to get back to work on the third or fourth hairpin above the house, watching the RT skidding on its side into the barrier while skidding on my side immediately after it. It took a bit of finding, but there was an almost invisible layer of fine gravel on the corner. I'm used to gravel, it's all over our roads all the time; unfortunately this was the wrong type of gravel. My poor bike is looking pretty battered; I'm waiting to find out the damage. Lid and clothes have been delivered to the insurance company's office, and I'm given to understand they'll authorize a shopping spree shortly. I thought I'd escaped without a mark, although the marks on my clothes were extensive, but I've been discovering bruises ever since. Nothing serious though. On the up side, the nice people at BMW assistance have given me a K1200GT for a week. Wayhay! I wish I could have this engine in my bike (Boxer enthusiasts look away now). [1]incl.: Be careful where you put important documents, or they may be eaten by a passing pig.