I’m conscious that the account of my previous journey – 5000 sort of unplanned miles across France and Spain – ended abruptly two years ago. Those who care, know: I made my way to Bilbao through harsh winds, got on the ferry to Poole and ground my way back to SE England through rain and roadworks.
Continue reading “A couple of years and a few thousand miles later…”
A journey without music is no journey at all, as far as I’m concerned. There are many famous aphorisms about music, some so famous and true that they’ve become cliches. “If music be the food of love, play on”, wrote Shakespeare. Nietzsche went further: “Without music, life would be a mistake”. For me it was Dick Clark, US television’s equivalent of John Peel, who summed it up: “Music is the soundtrack of your life”. My journey would have far less meaning without it.
Continue reading “I’ve Been Everywhere, Man (a musical interlude)”
“D Day”, (or “J Jour” as it’s known in France) when the Allies opened the Second Front in 1944 and the largest military operation in history, has been documented in countless books, treatises and films, including such epics as ‘The Longest Day’ and ‘Saving Private Ryan’. It’d be pointless me trying to recount the sequence of events which occurred in early June 1944, as so much scholarship and popular culture is far more informative than anything I as an amateur could commit to this page.
Continue reading “D Week”
The crossing is surprisingly quick. I sit next to Jez and we chat a bit before he goes on deck to be in the fresh air. The Trtl neck support device works impressively well and I manage a few hours’ relatively uninterrupted sleep, with earplugs in and wearing shades to make it feel darker, although my seat is facing away from the window anyway. On waking I drink another coffee and then the announcement comes on the ship’s PA that we are ready to dock.
Continue reading “Normandy Landing”
There was no going back. And a week in Normandy, even a challenging one, seemed OK: that’s why I’d signed up for the tour in the first place. Rock up, do the riding, head out.
That is until everything else happened.
Continue reading “Best Laid Plans”
My first long distance motorcycle ride in 2018 was epic by my own standards, but not at all so by the standards of someone like Ted Simon. It was certainly much less epic by the standards of Nick Sanders who had circumnavigated the world on a motorcycle nine times, on one occasion doing so on a Yamaha R1 (a 1000cc sportsbike) in nineteen days. Still, for me the post journey funk lasted a number of months, just as Ted had warned. The ennui was interrupted now and then by some event or other, including the Alexandra Palace Motorcycle Show where I met Nick in person for the first time.
Continue reading “Forever Delayed”
“It’s better to arrive at Auschwitz by bike than by train”
The Holocaust is one of the most difficult things to write about or to make films about. It is the subject which rookie director Catherine Lurie Continue reading “Film Review: Back to Berlin “
It takes only a few minutes to get from one side of Santander to the other. At the waterfront near the ferry port there is Continue reading “The Pilgrim Returns”
Guernica is a few sombre miles behind me when I espy something I’d not seen before in real life: a Continue reading “Biscay Blues”
The reason for which all of the interactions on this trip so far have been so rich is their intensity, from my perspective, due to Continue reading “Echoes of Guernica”
The morning comes and I am still undecided as to which way to head. I type a random address in Santander into the satnav to see which routes are available. There are several, via Continue reading “Back in the Basque Country”
From Lyon to Castelnaud La Chapelle it’s nearly 600km. Not a short run, made longer by the fact that a considerable section of it is tiny rural lanes, many of Continue reading “En Garde!”
Solitude and loneliness are different things. During a few nights, on my own in a pension or guesthouse bedroom, I experience Continue reading “My Echo, My Shadow and Me”
My body is changing visibly and invisibly. The neck muscles are Continue reading “Liberté de Lyon”
I have no real plan from Prague onwards, except to try and get to Castelnaud for the weekend. Munich is in a convenient location on the map, and my time Continue reading “Austrian High, Swiss Low”
Moving south along the Autobahn towards Dresden, rolling at a comfortable velocity somewhere in the high Continue reading “Prague Autumn; Bavaria Bound”
Today is the first day without the threat of rain anywhere along my route, so the waterproofs are happily packed away. Breakfast is Continue reading “I’m Not a Donut”
The morning entails the routine which is becoming familiar: shower, repack everything, vitamins, sun block, gear. I say my goodbyes and head out. A fuel stop a few kilometres beyond Amsterdam. The previous Continue reading “Rocking Reeperbahn”
One is jolted awake by loud distorted bird noises being piped through the ship’s radio. In a pitch black room which appears to be swaying Continue reading “‘Dam It”
Setting off from Zenith Motorcycles after final checks, I swing by Halfords who sold me a faulty single barrel pump. A shop assitant, Sin, is extremely helpful and replaces it with a working one without qualms. I roll to the border of our neighbourhood escorted by my best friend Yvonne on her Suzuki Van Van. She turns West, I turn Continue reading “The Norse Emissary”
Blac Ridere 