If only you could switch it on and off though. Picture:
Day 1: A guy in his eighties comes to talk to you on the ferry car waiting area . He thought the (Hinckley) Bonneville was old. You have a nice ten minute chat about how he was an army dispatch rider in the Western Desert and had ridden Triumphs, BSA's and even Moto Guzzi's and Zundapps captured from the other side.
Day 2: Anorak from a coach trip rushes over to tell you the Hinckley isn't a real Triumph then just wanders off.
Day 3: Puncture in the middle of a town. Three Harley riders stand and talk about how these old bikes are inferior and this one won't make it past Dover (this is near Milan). They don't offer to help
Day 7: Teenagers up a goat track on their XT125's treat you like a motorcycle god/grandfather (I'm 37!) because you pass them on what they keep calling an "old cruiser"
, then stopped to make tea and eat "English" chocolate biscuits
Day 22: Clutch cable goes. A nice lady in a camper van lends you a knitting kneedle to help you fish the new one into place because "It'd be a shame to see such a nice old bike broken down".
Day 23: Rider of large trail bike (guess which manufacturer) asks while waiting for the ferry if you've been into Belgium. You overhear in the bar that you're a liar because no one can ride a "fake classic" to Turkey, you need a large trail bike to deal with the "rough terrain". He's been to Ostend.
Ok these didn't all happen on the same trip, but all based on real conversations about the Hinckley and the Enfield I had before. The anorak/idiot to interesting conversation ratio is directly disproportional to how well your day is going BTW
Edit to add: I was also let off a speeding ticket because "It's good to give the old bikes a bit of a run once in a while", but that was Ireland so probably just the usual warm welcome.