Aug 2008 Distance: 3'300km Vehicle: Honda Deauville 650
This was my first trip ever on a motorbike. First trip ever generally means bad planning, wrong luggage, too much luggage, got lost on the way, almost run out of petrol, too many kilometers per day etc. etc. and all sorts of problems you would't even imagine before setting off e.g. my first stop at a petrol station, being in France, everything was written in (you guessed it) French! Thank god I had done some googeling and knew that "sans-plomb" means "unleaded", which saved me of the emarasement of filling up with the wrong fuel. Otherwise, with my primary-school french skills, I would have guessed that this meant "withouth plums" (and mind you, I do love plums) which would make me look even more stupid when asking a fellow citizen why they are selling "plumb-free" petrol here...
Generally it was a poorly planned trip but a trip that will stay in my memory as "the inauguration of my biking career" for ever. The one trip that popped the cherry. Nothing can ever replace that. Having only 15 hours of experience on two wheels (2 day training course and half a day when I sat the driving licence) I really had no idea how to ride a bike... It takes tens of thousands of kilometers of riding before one can say that they are confident. Me, being an overconfident noob, something I only realised much MUCH later, was a good recipe for disaster. In the end all went well, we all got back in one piece and most importantly we all had fun. The bad planning of the trip was overestimating how many kilometers a newby can ride in one day. When you plan a trip, please keep it to a max of 400km per day for country roads, or ca. 600km if it involves highway, otherwise you might end up driving from dusk till dawn. Unless of course you are riding in the 24-hour race of Le Mans, which is done for this exact purpose, a masochistic race for absolutely no purpose at all. If you want to do some sight seeing on the way then the 400km mark is a good start when planning. Of course I have wridden more than that in a day, ca. 800km, but believe you me it was not worth it. Your bum, back, hands, arms, legs basically everything will hate you, and your brain will ask yourself every ca. 1 minute or so "why didn't I just stay at home and watch TV", and "what is the purpose of life now?"
Generally it was a poorly planned trip but a trip that will stay in my memory as "the inauguration of my biking career" for ever. The one trip that popped the cherry. Nothing can ever replace that. Having only 15 hours of experience on two wheels (2 day training course and half a day when I sat the driving licence) I really had no idea how to ride a bike... It takes tens of thousands of kilometers of riding before one can say that they are confident. Me, being an overconfident noob, something I only realised much MUCH later, was a good recipe for disaster. In the end all went well, we all got back in one piece and most importantly we all had fun. The bad planning of the trip was overestimating how many kilometers a newby can ride in one day. When you plan a trip, please keep it to a max of 400km per day for country roads, or ca. 600km if it involves highway, otherwise you might end up driving from dusk till dawn. Unless of course you are riding in the 24-hour race of Le Mans, which is done for this exact purpose, a masochistic race for absolutely no purpose at all. If you want to do some sight seeing on the way then the 400km mark is a good start when planning. Of course I have wridden more than that in a day, ca. 800km, but believe you me it was not worth it. Your bum, back, hands, arms, legs basically everything will hate you, and your brain will ask yourself every ca. 1 minute or so "why didn't I just stay at home and watch TV", and "what is the purpose of life now?"
|
|
A few weeks before the trip we tested our skills. Me and two of my workmates, Marco & Gabri went for a ride. I had my 300cc Honda scooter, Gabri had a 4-cylinder bike and Marco rented a Suzuki GSX.
Picutre: me and Gabri on our first ride. |
|
I was very happy when Marco asked me if I wanted to take the GSX for a ride. The pictures on the right depicts me on the Suzuki GSX, or what I would now call a "massively uncomfortable bike".
This bike is made for racing and not for touring, so it's definitely not the bike you would want to take on a long ride. It doesn't even have space for a water bottle for heaven's sake. A rode it for 5 minutes and my triceps were not happy, it felt like I was planking on the floor. Too much weight falls on the arms so this is definitelly not a touring bike. Designers who make touring bikes have one major factor in their mind: an upright sitting position. Second in priority is a good fairing to keep the airflow and loud buffering noises out of your face. This bike had neither of these. Later I found out that this bike does actually have space. Under the back seat there is just enough room for a small tool kit and a driving licence, which snuggly fit in. |
|
I had also purchased a GPS device which I, thank god, took for a spin on my scooter to see how it works and how it connects to the battery. There I sadly learned the bitter through: a GPS is NOT your Google maps in your pocked. Sometimes you type in "London Street" and it asks you "the one in Edinborough or the one in New York" i.e. it won't search the one near you, but will give you a list of London Streets, listing them with alphabetical order of the post code. Not very useful when you have to scroll down 100 London streets before you find the one you are looking for. So DO get some experience before you start using this device for the first time.
Usefurl GPS advice: my method from now on is: find the hotel you are looking for on google maps, right click the mouse, select "what's here", copy & paste the GPS coordinates and use those to find your hotel. Mind you, you need to use the same format in your GPS settings, as coordinates could be degrees+decimals OR degrees+minutes+seconds, so make sure you are typing in the correct type of coordinates. Also note that if you make one tiny mistake i.e. a type of 1 degre difference, it will send you to the other side of the country and you won't know why. 1 Degree = 60 nautical miles = approx. 111km! So make sure you double and then triple check the coordinates you type in.
Usefurl GPS advice: my method from now on is: find the hotel you are looking for on google maps, right click the mouse, select "what's here", copy & paste the GPS coordinates and use those to find your hotel. Mind you, you need to use the same format in your GPS settings, as coordinates could be degrees+decimals OR degrees+minutes+seconds, so make sure you are typing in the correct type of coordinates. Also note that if you make one tiny mistake i.e. a type of 1 degre difference, it will send you to the other side of the country and you won't know why. 1 Degree = 60 nautical miles = approx. 111km! So make sure you double and then triple check the coordinates you type in.
Honda Deauville 650
Marco had already been driving for a few years on a bike starting in his teenage years. I had, as mentioned, 20 hours of bike riding experience (sounds like a recipe for disaster). We both rented a bike, mine was a Honda Deauville 650 which is not a bad touring bike for a beginner. I put my partner on the back seat and rode off on 233kg bike + petrol + two passengers + luggage = ca. 415kg, now that was a heavy bike to start off with. We had pre-booked all our hotels for the trip and had a rough idea of what we were going to see. We finished work on a Friday, went to the rental shop, picked up our bikes, I connected my gps to the battery and off we were. Of course my partner asked me "have you wridden a motorbike before, like, of this size? Are you sure you can handle this" to which I buffed away a "do I look like a noob to you?" in my overconfidet manner at that time. I didn't know much about what I was doing but hey, we were here to learn.
Murphy's Case 1: Marco's bike had been crashed the previous week so they gave him a replacement. Not the best touring bike but it did the job. It didn't have panniers so they gave him soft panniers, which too all of the back seat. Thank god that he was riding solo, otherwise we would have left one person behind.
First stop: Folkestone to catch the train to Callais. I received a phone call from Marco stating that his bike had broken down in the middle of the higway and was wating for the AA to resque him. (note this as Murphy's Case 2). I boarded the Eurotunnel service to France and waited for him at the other side of the English Channel. By Friday night we were both in Calais, remembered that here they drive on the right, and checked in at our hotel. Starting off with nice weather in London we were disappointed when horizontal rain hit us in the north of France the next day. It felt like we were driving at a 25 Degree angle, always facing North where the wind came from, to keep the balance. Being a novice driver this was well above my comfort zone. As any biker will tell you, at some point you will overtake trucks. I overtook my first truck that morning. To my great relief the wind abruptly stopped while I was overtaking, only to realise that this invisible force called wind would pick up right after overtaking the truck again. The wind hit me like a slap on the head and I nearly fell off the bike. I now knew that when overtaking one should lean into the wind right after overshooting a vehicle, especially a truck. Good lesson learnt there. The human brain adapts very fast in every situation and something new soon becane routine (later I learn this is called procedual memory).
Murphy's Case 1: Marco's bike had been crashed the previous week so they gave him a replacement. Not the best touring bike but it did the job. It didn't have panniers so they gave him soft panniers, which too all of the back seat. Thank god that he was riding solo, otherwise we would have left one person behind.
First stop: Folkestone to catch the train to Callais. I received a phone call from Marco stating that his bike had broken down in the middle of the higway and was wating for the AA to resque him. (note this as Murphy's Case 2). I boarded the Eurotunnel service to France and waited for him at the other side of the English Channel. By Friday night we were both in Calais, remembered that here they drive on the right, and checked in at our hotel. Starting off with nice weather in London we were disappointed when horizontal rain hit us in the north of France the next day. It felt like we were driving at a 25 Degree angle, always facing North where the wind came from, to keep the balance. Being a novice driver this was well above my comfort zone. As any biker will tell you, at some point you will overtake trucks. I overtook my first truck that morning. To my great relief the wind abruptly stopped while I was overtaking, only to realise that this invisible force called wind would pick up right after overtaking the truck again. The wind hit me like a slap on the head and I nearly fell off the bike. I now knew that when overtaking one should lean into the wind right after overshooting a vehicle, especially a truck. Good lesson learnt there. The human brain adapts very fast in every situation and something new soon becane routine (later I learn this is called procedual memory).
|
After a 200km ride we found ourselves in Rouen where one can admire the Cathedral, a masterpiece in Gothic Architecture. When riding a bike for a long time I think all riders will relate to the fact that one gets back pain. I did bite through the first long trip to Rouen, but did not like the rest of the trip on that day. We had to ride another 300km to Tours, where my back complained all the way. In Tours there is another Gothic Cathedral to admire. It was now Saturday evening. Picture: outside Rouen Cathedral |
We woke up on Sunday morning ready for more adventure. 30km to the East of Tours is a village called Amboise. There one will find Clos Luce, haven't heard of it? Neither had I. This is where Leonardo da Vinci lived the last 3 years of his life and where he died in 1519, having been invited to stay there by King Francis. The castle today is a museum exhibiting many of Leonardo's designs, manuscripts, and replicas of his inventions.
|
|
Leonardo did offered King Francis his Mona Lisa painting as a present, this is why the painting now is exhibited in the Louvre. If engineering is in your interests this is definitely a place to visit. I would call it an infamous castle with a very famous x-inhabitant. |
After Amboise we set off in the direction of Montpellier, the highlight on the way being the Millau Viaduct. Checking my gps it said: Montpellier 400km, doesn't sound too bad... oh how wrong I was! We decided to deviate from the motorway and practice our bike-leaning skills on country roads, that's what bikes are made for. Driving on a highway with a few stops can make you put ca. 100 to 120km per hour behind you. Driving on country roads sets this number to below 50km/hr average speed, including stop-start every time you enter a village or if you find [insert swearword] camper vans with German or Dutch numberplates in front of you. These vehicles should just be baned man, for the sake of all biker's nerves. Listen Mr Frog, Mr. Clog and Mr. Kraut (too much slang? click here) take your vehicle, leave it in the garage, don't forget to pay road tax so we can all enjoy good tarmac, and for heaven's sake book a hotel, it's cheaper than your 50'000 camper van for crying out loud (there I said it). We did encounter these long, strange looking, usually white, square, rediculously vast vehicles on twisty and windy roads which made the trip ever so slow. The worst is when you risk your life to dangerously overtake on a tight curve one of these hideously looking abominations, an hour later have a pit stop for petrol/bludder-pressure-relief/snack etc. only to find out that this Mr Frog/Clog/Kraut (whatever the case might be) just caught up with you, is at the same petrol station filling up, leaves 2 min before you, and there you go again, you have to overtake him on another blind curve and risk your life! OK I'm not a Nazi but these people should be put to sleep once and for all, or use the highway and leave country roads to drivers who actually enjoy them [now back to the story].
As I said, my gps stated "400km to Montpellier" and that was a damn right lie. It was actually 400km in a straight like and last time I checked, my bike did not have wings nor feathers. When I pressed "go" on my gps it calculated the route and stated "destination is 658km away, take the highway and after 632km take the exit!" WHAAAAAT! I did not sign up for this! We had booked all our hotels on the way so any deviation or change of plan would just inflict extra costs to our already broke bank accounts.
Parenthesis: did I say bronk bank accounts? It was the beginning of September 2008. If you're not a millennial you would know that a couple of weeks later the unforseeable collapse of Lehman Brothers took place. So if you were broke in the beginning of Sep 2008, you were double-broke at mid-Sep 2008. But at that time, ignorance was bliss.
I didn't quite believe the 658km claim, I though that maybe there was a mistake or maybe I directed the gps to our next hotel in Nice. My fears were unfortunately confirmed by the first sign on the way that stated "Montepllier 650km". My face turned pale when I saw that. Anyway, we had to rev it. Knowing now that highways were much faster than county roads we decided to stick on the French motorway till Montpellier.
As I said, my gps stated "400km to Montpellier" and that was a damn right lie. It was actually 400km in a straight like and last time I checked, my bike did not have wings nor feathers. When I pressed "go" on my gps it calculated the route and stated "destination is 658km away, take the highway and after 632km take the exit!" WHAAAAAT! I did not sign up for this! We had booked all our hotels on the way so any deviation or change of plan would just inflict extra costs to our already broke bank accounts.
Parenthesis: did I say bronk bank accounts? It was the beginning of September 2008. If you're not a millennial you would know that a couple of weeks later the unforseeable collapse of Lehman Brothers took place. So if you were broke in the beginning of Sep 2008, you were double-broke at mid-Sep 2008. But at that time, ignorance was bliss.
I didn't quite believe the 658km claim, I though that maybe there was a mistake or maybe I directed the gps to our next hotel in Nice. My fears were unfortunately confirmed by the first sign on the way that stated "Montepllier 650km". My face turned pale when I saw that. Anyway, we had to rev it. Knowing now that highways were much faster than county roads we decided to stick on the French motorway till Montpellier.
|
There is always a good side in every bad encounter, the weather was getting warmer along every inch that we went direction south. 550km after Tours came the highlight of the trip, the Millau Viaduct, a magnificent piece of modern engineering designed by Norman Foster himself. One slight problem: by the time we had arrived the sun had set so we couldn't see much of it (or anything at all to be precise). No worries, we will see it on our next trip we said (15 years later and still haven't gone back...). Ading insult to injury, Even though we couldn't see it, we still had to pay the 5.50 Euros toll to cross it.
Picture: the Millau Viaduct at daytime, NOT night time like when we got there. |
Now my backmuschles were complaining beyond belief and that's where I realised that from the vibrations a biker's knees also take a beating. We started driving faster ca. 130km/hr on straight lines, which made the handle bars rattle like a jack-hammer, no joke, and my hands ware also aching. The Honda is a good bike for slow touring but the engineers obviously did not know what an opposing-piston was. I drove a bmw with a boxer engine a year later and believe you me, the difference was astonishing. We did eventually reach Montpellier and checked in at our hotel only to collapse from tiredness. A bed had never felt softer. Being in the south of France summer was still in full swing in September, unlike northern France. We were happy to have put this tough challenge behind us. The next day we took it easy and strolled around Montepllier. It was now serisouly hot, so carrying black leathers was not a good idea.
Montpellier: Port de Peyrou Saint-Clément-Aqueduct Chateau-d'eau
After Montpellier we head off to Nimes to see the Nimes Arena, then off to Marseilles and then to Antibes (most of you will probably not know that Kazantzakis had a house there). In Antibes we slept in a Bungalow of a 5-star camping place, that was a very nice experience. Only problem is that you are supposed to bring sheets and sleeping bags with you... so I slept on a foamy matress with my bike clothes for a blanket. This is the only reason why we made this trip in September. In August you have to book these bangalows weeks in advance, also you had to book for a minimum stay of 1 week. Now, September, not only there was no pre-booking required, not only could you stay only for one night, not only were there empty spaces, the camping was completely empty, just us.
Walking around with my bike gear on made me sweat like a pig in the south of France. Lesson learnt: brig acable to lock everything on the bike when going for a walk. Appart from that we were pretty happy that we didn't have to drive too many kilometers every day from now on. It was now Tuesday so we took a day off long bike rides and we visited Nice and Monaco (Casino, yeay!). On Wednesday morning we set off to see the Alps. We drove past Turin, then Aosta and headed for the Mont-Blanc tunnel. Before the tunnel we were stopped by toll staff and was told to pay the rediculous amount of 30 Euros... whaaaat! 30 Euros for 11km of tunnel, you must be joking! Anyway, there was no way around it. No wonder Lehman Brothers collapsed! The pass over it was covered in snow so we had now choice. The view on the way though was breathtaking and the weather wasn't playing any tricks on us so we already had big smiles on our faces. The only problem we encountered: one of those Mr Frogs/Klogs with his hideous over-the-top-sized white-square-vehicle overtook me while I was putting on my gloves and, although the speed limit was 80km/hr, he decided to drive at 55 just to piss me off. Well, you achieved it! A few hours driving and we were in Geneva which greated us with the most amazing sunshine, time to dip in the lake to cool off.
After Montpellier we head off to Nimes to see the Nimes Arena, then off to Marseilles and then to Antibes (most of you will probably not know that Kazantzakis had a house there). In Antibes we slept in a Bungalow of a 5-star camping place, that was a very nice experience. Only problem is that you are supposed to bring sheets and sleeping bags with you... so I slept on a foamy matress with my bike clothes for a blanket. This is the only reason why we made this trip in September. In August you have to book these bangalows weeks in advance, also you had to book for a minimum stay of 1 week. Now, September, not only there was no pre-booking required, not only could you stay only for one night, not only were there empty spaces, the camping was completely empty, just us.
Walking around with my bike gear on made me sweat like a pig in the south of France. Lesson learnt: brig acable to lock everything on the bike when going for a walk. Appart from that we were pretty happy that we didn't have to drive too many kilometers every day from now on. It was now Tuesday so we took a day off long bike rides and we visited Nice and Monaco (Casino, yeay!). On Wednesday morning we set off to see the Alps. We drove past Turin, then Aosta and headed for the Mont-Blanc tunnel. Before the tunnel we were stopped by toll staff and was told to pay the rediculous amount of 30 Euros... whaaaat! 30 Euros for 11km of tunnel, you must be joking! Anyway, there was no way around it. No wonder Lehman Brothers collapsed! The pass over it was covered in snow so we had now choice. The view on the way though was breathtaking and the weather wasn't playing any tricks on us so we already had big smiles on our faces. The only problem we encountered: one of those Mr Frogs/Klogs with his hideous over-the-top-sized white-square-vehicle overtook me while I was putting on my gloves and, although the speed limit was 80km/hr, he decided to drive at 55 just to piss me off. Well, you achieved it! A few hours driving and we were in Geneva which greated us with the most amazing sunshine, time to dip in the lake to cool off.
Geneva lake at dusk
The long riding days were unfortunately not over, we had a 500km stretch from Geneva to Reims the next day. Being Thursday we knew we had to bring our bikes back to the rental shop on Friday night. Of course driving North meant that the weather started to worsen by the minute. We reached Reims on Thursday evening and visited the Reims Cathedral, not as famous as the Notre-Dame of Paris but as breathtaking. Our sunshine days were abruplty cut by rain, rain and more rain. Summer was officially over now. Back at the hotel an English lady saw our British number plates and asked us if we were going to or coming from England, we replied "driving to England tomorow" which followed by a sentence that left us frozen "forget it, the Eurostar cought fire just this morning". Yes, it was true, she wasn't joking. It was Thursday the 11th of September 2008 and if you don't believe click here. Come on, what were the chances of the Eurostar buring down on the one day that we need it! We quickly tried to get more news (this is a time before smarthphones) and realised that it was true. Not being able to do much we set off the next day towards Callais. On the way I saw an overhead sign stating "Manche ferme" and my French is not extremely fluent but that did tell me that the English Channel-tunnel was indeed closed. It was official, Murphy's Law Case 3 was here and he had done it again. I then received a phone call from Marco who informed me that he was told it would be better to drive to Dunkerque and catch a ferry from there. We had split our paths, I had decided to head for Calais anyway. When I reached Calais the situation was utterly chaotic. Cars were queing up for miles to find an alternative route into England. Being a biker, having endured slow driving camper-vans, having endured horizontal rain and strong winds, among other mishaps, I was now ready to take full advantage of the fact that I was a vehicle no wider than 100cm and could fit through other bulky vehicles without a problem. I succeeded in overtaking everyone and got myself at the front of the queue. This was France and not Britain after all so jumping the queue was abosutely fine (sorry France...). I had to change my Eurostar ticket to a ferry ticket which was free of charge. After being directed to 5 different kiosks I managed to get my ticket (I though that I was doing greek burocracy for a moment). I then proceeded to passport control and off I was. Cold sweat started dripping down my back when, after being asked for my passport, realised that it was not in my pocket, where I thought it was. I said, hey, I can show him my driving licence (great idea...not). I handed over my driving licence to the officer who looked at me and said "you're having a laugh sir? you can't cross the border with this", to which I replied "are you sure?" which was definitely the wrong thing to say. This person is a border control officer by job, does this every day. He furiously replied "yes, YES, last time I checked mate!". I realised that this person had seen it all before and has had people trying to cross the border with a Tesco-clubcard or a gym-memebrship with a picture, so this is not what he wanted to hear. In all the havoc I had forgotten that I had placed my passport in one of my paniers. Luckily I found it fast, while the drivers behind me were becoming very frustrated after a biker who had jumped the queue had decided to lose his documents. This event could not have chosen any worse timing.
A ferry quickly arrived and I together with other bikers proceeded to embarking the ferry. A couple of hours on the ferry and we docked at Dover at around 15:00. I received a phone call from Marco stating that the ferries from Dunkirk were fully booked for the next 3 days, I was happy that I had chosed the option to dock from Calais. It was now a ca. 75 mile ride and the renting shop was closing at 17:00. By the time I got my gear on and mounted the bike it was 15:30. I reved the engine, passed the sign that sais "drive on the left" (don't believe? click here) and did a non stop trip from Calais to central London and raced to the shop which I reached at a few minutes after 17:00. I apologised for being late and explained that there was a fire at the tunnel and everything was delayed, only to receive a "that's not my problem!" answer from the owner. That's your thank you for busting my ass? Anyway, I was back in one piece and all had ended well. I also told him that the steering wheel wobbles like a jack-hammer when doing more than 80mph, to which he very wisely remplid the most brilliant answer I could have ever imagined "well then DON'T drive 80mph!"... I guess he was right.
The long riding days were unfortunately not over, we had a 500km stretch from Geneva to Reims the next day. Being Thursday we knew we had to bring our bikes back to the rental shop on Friday night. Of course driving North meant that the weather started to worsen by the minute. We reached Reims on Thursday evening and visited the Reims Cathedral, not as famous as the Notre-Dame of Paris but as breathtaking. Our sunshine days were abruplty cut by rain, rain and more rain. Summer was officially over now. Back at the hotel an English lady saw our British number plates and asked us if we were going to or coming from England, we replied "driving to England tomorow" which followed by a sentence that left us frozen "forget it, the Eurostar cought fire just this morning". Yes, it was true, she wasn't joking. It was Thursday the 11th of September 2008 and if you don't believe click here. Come on, what were the chances of the Eurostar buring down on the one day that we need it! We quickly tried to get more news (this is a time before smarthphones) and realised that it was true. Not being able to do much we set off the next day towards Callais. On the way I saw an overhead sign stating "Manche ferme" and my French is not extremely fluent but that did tell me that the English Channel-tunnel was indeed closed. It was official, Murphy's Law Case 3 was here and he had done it again. I then received a phone call from Marco who informed me that he was told it would be better to drive to Dunkerque and catch a ferry from there. We had split our paths, I had decided to head for Calais anyway. When I reached Calais the situation was utterly chaotic. Cars were queing up for miles to find an alternative route into England. Being a biker, having endured slow driving camper-vans, having endured horizontal rain and strong winds, among other mishaps, I was now ready to take full advantage of the fact that I was a vehicle no wider than 100cm and could fit through other bulky vehicles without a problem. I succeeded in overtaking everyone and got myself at the front of the queue. This was France and not Britain after all so jumping the queue was abosutely fine (sorry France...). I had to change my Eurostar ticket to a ferry ticket which was free of charge. After being directed to 5 different kiosks I managed to get my ticket (I though that I was doing greek burocracy for a moment). I then proceeded to passport control and off I was. Cold sweat started dripping down my back when, after being asked for my passport, realised that it was not in my pocket, where I thought it was. I said, hey, I can show him my driving licence (great idea...not). I handed over my driving licence to the officer who looked at me and said "you're having a laugh sir? you can't cross the border with this", to which I replied "are you sure?" which was definitely the wrong thing to say. This person is a border control officer by job, does this every day. He furiously replied "yes, YES, last time I checked mate!". I realised that this person had seen it all before and has had people trying to cross the border with a Tesco-clubcard or a gym-memebrship with a picture, so this is not what he wanted to hear. In all the havoc I had forgotten that I had placed my passport in one of my paniers. Luckily I found it fast, while the drivers behind me were becoming very frustrated after a biker who had jumped the queue had decided to lose his documents. This event could not have chosen any worse timing.
A ferry quickly arrived and I together with other bikers proceeded to embarking the ferry. A couple of hours on the ferry and we docked at Dover at around 15:00. I received a phone call from Marco stating that the ferries from Dunkirk were fully booked for the next 3 days, I was happy that I had chosed the option to dock from Calais. It was now a ca. 75 mile ride and the renting shop was closing at 17:00. By the time I got my gear on and mounted the bike it was 15:30. I reved the engine, passed the sign that sais "drive on the left" (don't believe? click here) and did a non stop trip from Calais to central London and raced to the shop which I reached at a few minutes after 17:00. I apologised for being late and explained that there was a fire at the tunnel and everything was delayed, only to receive a "that's not my problem!" answer from the owner. That's your thank you for busting my ass? Anyway, I was back in one piece and all had ended well. I also told him that the steering wheel wobbles like a jack-hammer when doing more than 80mph, to which he very wisely remplid the most brilliant answer I could have ever imagined "well then DON'T drive 80mph!"... I guess he was right.
|
I now had the whole weekend to relax after my first bike adventure. Marco had to fight a little bit longer and brought the bike back the following Monday. That was the end of his, despite its hicups, awesome trip trip. May we soon ride together again. After putting my feet up on the weekend to get the blood flowing in them again, a week later we were greeted with pictures like this (Picture right) in the newspapers, which was the biggest bomb-shell compared to all other mishaps that week. It was now the 14th of September 2008. What was happening to the world?! |
|
Lessons learnt/useful tips:
- save the location of your hotels on your GPS using coordinates. Looking for them in deserted and dark streets where no one speaks english will cost you a lot of time & nerves. How? Find the hotel on Gogole maps, right-click
- same goes for sites, save them on your GPS using coordinates before leaving on a trip
- don't blindly follow your GPS, but have a look on the map on your PC (GPS screen is 3 inces wide and give zero overview) so you know with what sequence you will be visiting the places you want to see. I once followed blindly my GPS and realised too late that the next site I wanted to see was 100km behind me, i.e. we drove right infront of it and only found out later. Best solution: make a list of things to see place them in order along a straight line.
- choose the right gear. North France was pretty cold, South France was scorching in heat. I was wearing a winter jacket in the heat.
- bring a 2m long cable with a noose on each end (got one from a bicycle shop), thread it through your gear (bike trousers, jacket & helmet) which saves you from draggin all your gear whenever you're on foot visiting e.g. an attraction.
