The chippy would be the chip shop, which would be the shop that sells proper French Fries. Only they're not those scrawny twigs of over fried potato that Mc D sells. We're talking proper chunks of potato, deep fried in over used, dirty cooking oil, then wrapped in newspaper. A sprinkling of burnt batter (called scraps where I come from), and a quality English Banger (sausage).

You had to ride the bike quick in those days as a trip back home from the chippy usually had your t-shirt soaked in grease. Why? well, you wouldn't be seen dead riding a 350LC with a back pack so the chips got stuffed in the front of your (compulsory) Yamaha paddock jacket and of course the goo from the chips would be battling for supremacy with the Silkolene Pro 2 goo dribbling out of the silencers, so you'd be fully oiled up by the time you got the chips on the kitchen table.

Such was life as a teenage LC hooligan.......who liked chips