The wrenches!

Damien is one of that minority caste of men who can afford their dreams; it's not a matter of money, but of taste, priority, and indeed a way of life. Who hasn't dreamed of living surrounded by their passions, starting with this house conceived by the couple and designed by architect Sophie Bello? It's outside the city's bustling and suffocating center, nestled in a screen of greenery, where these three finely designed white cubes disappear into vegetation arranged like distant islands. You'd have to have "been around" to bring the feel of California or Ibiza here! It must be said that Damien travels the world for his job, and it's clear that this overflow of civilizations translates into his home as an intoxication of essentialism, of controlled emptiness, and of pure, serene white. What strikes you about this house is its "inside-out" balance; the structure seems completely open.

- English bikes are earned, they require learning, they must be tamed, Damien tells me, and he continues by explaining that all his motorcycles come from England, Scotland, or Ireland and that they all have a history and a story before he acquired them, during the acquisition, and since they became his own.

- I dreamed of them, searched for them, and each time I made the trip accompanied by my lifelong friends, because motorcycling is a story of men, shared passions, and adventures. And believe me, there have been adventures with these motorcycles.

One of Damien's first acquisitions was the 1958 Norton ES2, in Manx configuration, with its famous featherbed frame, English-style "picouzé" (hot-rodded); the bikes followed one after another. In the main room stand a BSA and a Triumph. The BSA is not English, but Scottish. A Triumph Trophy, 500cc, in the middle of the living room, displaying Steeve McQueen's number 278, gives me goosebumps. It also came from England and competed in races in its country of origin, a 1970 orange US-version Norton Commando, and finally a Vincent Rapide that should arrive from England via the Norman coast in a few days!

But beware, this "White House" is not a museum; all the motorcycles are ridden, often, and I can attest to that. I often see Damien in town or at events with his friends who, like him, experience motorcycling as a way of life, as if projected into another time and space. Survivors of an era when the English dominated the motorcycle scene. While here our small-displacement bikes transported us as utility vehicles, England was experiencing the golden age of the cafe racer, of the Rockers... Black leather jackets, raw denim, rock 'n' roll, and clashes with wrenches between Ton up boys before sinking into history or folklore! The working class has given way to gentlemen's riders, dandies in Lewis Leather or Barbour Trailmaster jackets, flanked by Ruby helmets. Damien and his friends are part of this; in their own way, they revive this period that is not ours but has become so trendy (the pages of Moto Heroes are no strangers to this revival that fashion and cinema have largely embraced). We all have images, sounds, smells; we all want to give a kick to a kickstarter and feel between our thighs the vibrations and vibrato of a Bonnie... They are there in every room of this house, available to the eyes of their owner and to all those who are welcome and share this passion for beautiful objects. Vintage or collection leathers adorn the garage around his perfectly colored TR3, like everything else. The helmet that only goes with one and not the other, a matter of colors and coherence. Magazines, art books where the great history and the small "motorcycling" history intertwine. Emblems, badges, memories of essential events like Stafford and Beaulieu in England, or Goodwood or Wheels & Waves...

Hats off to the lady of the house, who accepts English bikes even into the master suite. I don't know anyone who can make a French and an English person coexist in the same bedroom apart from Gainsbourg.

Damien tells us some anecdotes about his English escapades. An aborted auction for a Norton because it was a Frenchman. A spontaneous trip to Glasgow with a friend at 1 AM to buy a motorcycle, and finally returning with two bikes because his sidekick fell in love with a Triumph... Thirty hours without sleep, but what does it matter, it creates memories. Bikes that only start in England and, once across the border, refuse to "crank up"!

We have another coffee; the sun is still there and calls us behind the umbrella pines or bamboos. Damien hands me a leather jacket and puts on his own, asking me to choose. I've always wanted to be in Steve McQueen's shoes or one of his conquests. Religiously, I put on Steve's Triumph and Damien his BSA. No need to force it; these bikes are matching numbers and have their historical records, of course. We go to make some noise in the neighborhood where big German or Swedish SUVs reign. While some are preparing quinoa or tofu, the fans of the sixties smoke out passers-by in Cyrillus or Eden Park.

I just bought my grail, a 1000 Vincent Rapide that will arrive in a few days. I'm as eager as a newlywed in front of the "altar."

I'd love a Triumph T150 or BSA Rocket 3 and/or a motorcycle to race the Touquet Vintage Enduro in 2019 with my lifelong friends Christophe and Laurent, whom he invites me to meet, promising beautiful wonders and great reports.

I don't say goodbye to Damien, because I know I'll see him often; in fact, an appointment is already scheduled: "I'm going to test one of the most iconic motorcycles in the world; it's English and its name is Vincent, quite a program."

Article and photos: Laurent Scavone