2017 The Sahara

11. The end bit

So the journey home from our hotel in Labastide Murat in the Bordeaux region would involve another long day in the saddle to get to Pre-en-Pail, in Normandy some 400 miles, where we had an appointment with Shirley, Ravens step mum. She has some land with a cottage and two gite. Both Colin and Raven were due to go there on their travels. I will spare you the journey as it was fairly uneventful and long, mostly on motorways with nothing much of interest. When we did stop and even when we were packing to set off in the morning I could tell that for the fourth consecutive day Colin had a huge amount on his mind. He had slept little and worried lots. What did happen towards the end of the day was me getting a tad of road rage. I am by nature a pretty placid sort of person and not usually overly annoyed at other road users errors. However I suspect this day was a culmination of having lost a friend, had another in hospital and seeing the pain Colin was continually suffering both mentally and physically, with his back. The driver had almost hit Colin and ignored all the signs and road markings, it ended with me pulling up next to the driver when he stopped at a layby, his window was down. We had an exchange of pleasantries, well no. I had an exchange of unpleasantries in the universal language understandable to all. At this point I noticed Colin was disappearing round the next corner and I had no idea where we were or where we were going. I caught up and had words with myself. Colin didn’t need me being an idiot he needed support of a friend. We went up the long driveway that leads to Shirley’s beautiful home. On arriving we parked up the bikes and were greeted by four barking dogs. None of them any great size and one, just the cutest looking dog.

I tried to encourage them to come close and be petted but they weren’t having any of it. In due course Shirley came out to greet us and we all entered the cottage. Shirley is a wonderful lady who along with her late husband Tony had completely refurbished the cottage and gites. Between them they had made a fantastic job of turning the goat barn into a holiday let, along with the second that I didn’t see. Tony, Raven’s dad, had met Shirley just seven years prior to his death last year and Shirley was still coming to terms with that terrible loss. She knows she needs to rent the holiday homes out to maintain an income but as of yet has not managed to do so. Obviously Shirley had questions as to what had happened and what would happen next. Colin struggled through being as honest and open as only he can be. Shirley was accepting of the events, not without being upset but this lady took some comfort in the fact that her late husband had not had to deal with his daughter’s untimely death. Tony had been a motorcyclist and like so many parents was concerned as to Raven’s use of a motorcycle.
Shirley explained that she had got some pizza for us and hoped we liked it, what a star. By this time the dogs had become more trusting and I had fallen for Betty the mischievous little fluffy one. Yeah, that’s it my knowledge of dogs runs only to fluffy or not! I was shattered and took a shower before hitting the sack, I had managed to book a ticket on the same ferry as Colin and we were to head off first thing in the morning. It was 5.30am and Shirley had woken to see us off. We rode out onto the motorway in the crisp fresh air and started the journey to Calais. It was fairly uneventful apart from my choke cable sticking, needing a quick roadside repair, and me nearly running out of fuel again, after my silly decision to ride to the next station rather than wait the five minutes until the previous one had opened. We arrived at the ferry in good time. I rode up to passport control and the guy asked “Good trip?” I paused and thought, does he really want to hear this, no of course he doesn’t. “Yes thanks very nice” I replied and we rode onto the boat. The crossing was pleasant and the ride home equally so. We stopped at a petrol station where we would go our separate ways. I shook Colin’s hand and with nothing prepared to say I smiled and said “In the words of Vinnie Jones, It’s been emotional”. We both laughed and set off for our respective homes. I had completed over 3000 miles. Thats an eighth of the way round the world hmmmmmmm!!!!

It’s now two weeks later. I have returned to work and also, with Colin’s help, organised a charity ride out in Ravens memory. We are piggybacking an Air Ambulance event and supporting them. A whole load of her friends have signed up and we hope to end it all with a picnic for anyone, biker or not who wants to join us in remembering a dear friend.

What did I learn? Preparation is everything. Remember the rev counter light I would never need or the choke cable I purchased and never fitted. All these things have taught me that I need to prepare before any bigger adventures. This was a shake down trip, bigger than last years UK version. I used it to test my bike, my gear, my resolve and riding ability. I learnt to be flexible and adapt to changes along the way. So for me it was a good trip, marred with sadness but overall a great experience where I met lots of people and enjoyed their company.

Some have asked if i will continue to ride a bike after the terrible events on this trip. Here’s my answer. Motorcycling and travel are my thing, my drug if you like. It’s addictive and exciting, and yes dangerous, but so is crossing the road on foot. On my bike I am free to go where I want, meet new and exciting people. I saw several people look at me from their cars and in some I saw a little envy. I’m not rich, I don’t have a top of the range bike and most my gear is second hand. But what I get from riding and travel is worth all the saving and hard work to make it happen. So yes I will continue to ride and explore my boundaries. I have no doubt Raven would have wanted that.
I hope you have enjoyed reading this and I do hope some will leave feedback. Maybe next year it will be bigger and better.

Raven x

10. Millau Viaduct

We were up and on the road by 6am. We rode out of Caspe on the same road and past the accident site both of us with our own thoughts. The Sun was starting to rise and we were treated to a hazy start to the day.

The roads were wonderful, flowing curves complimented by awesome scenery. Before I knew it Colin was signalling to get fuel, surely we hadn’t gone that far yet, but we had and the roads had been a joy to settle into the day. Fuelled, we set off again headed for Andorra. I led the way with my slower machine, although we had been travelling at the same speed when Colin led, his bike being more frugal with the fuel at the lower speeds. I was in two minds as to which bike I wanted more, the faster smoother four cylinder road bike with its fairing and wide saddle or my single cylinder thumper with the hard thin saddle, no wind protection but the ability to go off road. I considered other options such as the big BMW GS or even the smaller 850. The cost of these was the issue. In the end I realised me and Molli are an item, we work well together. She stops me speeding past wonderful sights and prevents speeding tickets. I get to ride off road and that has always been important to me. We picked up the A2 and then the C13 following signs for Andorra. We stopped at the village of Pantos for a coffee, well, two in my case. Again a picturesque little town on market day, although we were ahead of market start time. I went to get my second coffee and there was a schematic map on the wall indicating the various roads out of town and significant towns along the way. Oliana was there, oh my god Oliana, the town I should be heading for today to start the event I had entered. I had totally forgotten it with the past few days events.
I first heard about the Twinshock challenge at the bike show in London. I had only gone because I had nothing else to do and there was an adventure bike area and the possibility of seeing the new Honda RC13, a road legal Moto GP bike. Anyway that bike wasn’t there, but Austin Vince was. He is a hero of mine since watching Mondo Enduro and reading books by Lois Pryce. I spoke to Austin and he explained he was doing a navigational event for two days in the Pyrenees, it’s all off road and great fun. I needed team mates as the rules state you must be a team of two or more. He didn’t seem to mind that I was a shock short of a twinshock bike. In the following months I was introduced to Mark and Kevin, both good off road riders and we formed a team. On our first meeting Kevin had fallen badly twice from his beautiful TT500 Yamaha. He went home injured. Subsequently he counted himself out of the event. Mark and I trained for the rest of that weekend and again a few weeks later, we seemed to ride well together. Our team needed a name so we had Kevin in mind when we called ourselves “OMG you killed Kevin”. We were sent maps which needed endless hours of copying and expanding and route marking. It took me weeks to get all the waypoints marked and do pace notes to get between them. I only did half of them and Mark the rest. Then my hopes of competing faded when Mark fell from his bike on the way down breaking 5 ribs. Austin had said come along anyway we will do some riding together. However all that had gone from my mind with the most recent of events. Now in Pontos it came back. We mounted up and headed north passing through Oliana and right past the hotel with all the competition bikes outside. We carried on and I was surprised to see that my route I had planned to take to the first waypoint was correct. Soon that was behind us and we continued towards Andorra, swiftly passing through customs and stopping at a big supermarket type shop. Weirdly the staff required us to leave crash helmets at the entrance. Once in the shop we found the motorcycle section where you could pick up a crash helmet, very strange. It was time for me to make amends and get a camera. I knew the one I wanted and it was purchased slightly cheaper than in the UK. I got a memory card and was set. Outside I took the camera and inserted the memory card, I was ready. We rode off with me following. Andorra is beautiful, clean and modern. We rode through the town centre, then again and a third time. In my mind I was happy that Colin was looking for a nice cafe for us to stop at. Eventually we went back towards Spain before stopping. He was furious at not having any signal on his sat nav. I checked mine and it also had no signal. We rode back just following the signs for France. The road was utter bliss. The views amazing and we rode well together. I was filming it and Colin may have been as he had a new bike cam and had attached it to his helmet.
I can get pizza delivered anywhere We stopped at the top of a pass and I raided the pizza box on top of Colins bike, we had a photo session before cruising down the sweeping curves to the pass. Andorra must make most of its income from skiing in the winter months but the views and roads make for a great summer trip too. All too soon it was over and France was upon us.











We stopped again for some cold drinks before riding off towards Millau. This was not going to be an easy visit. I had planned to visit the bridge and was aware that Raven had it as a goal during her journey. We had again ridden a long way to complete this part of the trip. We stopped to fuel up just before the viaduct. We had a bite to eat but time was getting on, so quickly we mounted up and headed off to complete the last few kilometres to the bridge. As we closed in on the final few kilometres I could feel myself wishing Raven was with us and I wanted to share this with her. In the last kilometre I metaphorically held her hand as if she were on the back of my bike. Gripped the left bar tighter and as the viaduct came into view I shuddered at its wonder.


A huge bridge spanning a 2.5kilometre gorge over the river Tarn, some 270m (890ft) high. It was such an amazing engineering feat. The tallest bridge in the world by virtue of its highest mast being 343m (1125ft) above the gorge. Designed by British architect Norman Foster it was an incredible sight. My usual over enthusiastic wonder at engineering was to the fore, but also the tears streamed down my face at not being a group of three. I also knew this was the end of the sad times for me. I had made it and I had shared it with the memory of my friend Raven. She had come into my life like a ball of lightening, illuminating everything and making every minute of knowing her an absolute joy, we had huge amounts in common and what’s not to like about a lovely girl with three bikes? Five days is all we had and I will treasure every one of those days for the rest of mine. I have nothing but wonderful memories of Raven. I stopped at the far side with my head in my hands I felt exhausted. Colin pulled up next to me and was equally upset, I knew however that his pain would continue for a long time yet. We went to the car park and walked to the viewing platform. I got the new camera out and switched it on ‘memory card fault’, brilliant! I had left my phone on the bike and now only had the tablet in my rucksack. But that takes  pictures doesnt it?  I have to say it took some great pictures. ( as I am writing this I have mastered adding pictures and suspect you will see just how good this pictures is). Back at the bikes my bum was still aching and I really didn’t want to ride much further, but this wasn’t about me, not this time. Colin suggested another three hours to his mates house. I pointed out that he had earlier told me I have a tail light out. I was kind of hoping that would be my get out clause but what actually happened was roadside repairs. A quick fix and the tail light was as good as new. We rode on and on and on. Eventually Colin stopped, at the entrance to a set of shops, to say he was exhausted. I was off the bike and straight into the wheelie bins, looking for bubble wrap to make a cushion. Hey presto at no cost a cushion to ease the pain. shop, wheelie bin, new cushion
 But really we were exhausted, so after a failed attempt to book I a biker hostel we found a hotel. The Hotel Bastide, named after the person who invented the pricing list. It was a lovely hotel with a great shower and amazing restaurant. Colin was paying and little did he know we were in the expensive bit. We had a salad starter followed by beuf bourguignon. The starter was crazy good and the main I’m sure equally good but I’m no great meat eater so I picked at it. Colin didn’t want dessert, but I did and he had paid for the set menu so I had double Creme Brulee. Before we knew it the clock was well past 11pm and we hit the beds. Tomorrow would be a day of long miles and another challenging encounter.

9. A day off

I guessed by the look on Colins face that sleep didn’t come easy, if at all, that night and I was in no better condition after just 5 hours sleep. But I was up and ready to help in any way I could. This wasn’t going to be easy for either of us. We went down to the car park to get our luggage. I remember on arrival the lift was a tiny affair with what I thought were two doors on adjacent walls. It seemed odd, that’s all. I told Colin I had no intention of riding anywhere today and we both needed a day off. Both to recover from the shock of events and my arse was killing. He agreed and went about negotiating the continued use of the rooms he had booked. We unloaded the bikes in relative silence and made our way back to the lift. The doors closed and we both looked at each other sighing as we knew this wouldn’t be a good day. “I need to get flowers mate to put at the scene”. I on the other hand needed to see where this had happened. The previous night on my journey up I had been haunted by maybe coming across the scene in the dark and having some kind of mishap myself. I don’t do flowers at the roadside, I always think that I would have other options like a favourite place that we had in common where I could remember them better. But I didn’t have one for Raven. I had only known her for 5 days and the only place we had in common was 717 miles away.   Colin leant back against the side of the lift, only it wasn’t the wall and the doors had opened. Stood outside was the staff member who had placed a heavy crate at the door entrance. Colin went back in almost slow motion. He stepped back to stop the fall but his foot struck the crate and he went down on his back. His bad back that had plagued him for the past few days. Still holding his luggage he could do nothing to stop the fall. He lay there momentarily, not nearly long enough to assess any damage, instead out of shock or embarrassment, he got straight up. I helped lift his baggage. The staff members was so apologetic and I think all three of us just wanted the whole thing to end. We went to the restaurant for breakfast and were shortly joined by the owner’s husband, a nice guy who had been supportive the previous day. Between us we could sign and pigeon English a conversation. He was glad that the Police had been good with Colin and that all the services had done what they could for Raven. We walked into Caspe town centre and I found a hardware store, using Google translate the manager understood that I wanted flowers and he drew a map for us. Again we walked in relative silence on the approach to the shop Colin stopped to take a phone call from Ravens husband. Colin had broken the news the previous day and I realised this would be the one of many difficult calls for him, nothing for me to do but carry on to the shop. I was there for him if he needed me. Again Google translate came to the fore helping explain what I wanted. A selection of flowers were shown to me and I chose a simple pink rose and two lilies with some flora to back them. I asked for ribbon and the lady produced tiny thin ribbon. I made the gesture for bigger and she produced a quite wide ribbon, well enormous really but it was clear that was the option. She asked if I wanted words. I chose to write a few on a till roll for her to copy. It’s not easy choosing words for remembrance, especially after such a short time of knowing the person. There was no doubt Raven was an amazing person and she had lit up my life for those few days. We had immediately become good friends with similar sense of humour and being of similar age we appreciated many of the same things. Plus she was a girl with three bikes, what wasn’t to like about the woman. She went to the back of the shop and I waited, I waited for quite some time. I called to her in my best Spanish and explained I needed to go for a few minutes but I would be back with Colin who also wanted flowers. I found Colin still sat where he had answered the call, he was still talking, his shoulders slumped and a pained expression. I could only be there for him I couldn’t deal with his pain or Ravens family, unless they expressly asked. The call ended and we spoke briefly, it was nothing more than we had already said but reinforcing support and friendship for a guy struggling with the horrific events of yesterday and its impact on today and the future. We went to the florist and Colin ordered a similar bouquet. He wrote the words he wanted and we waited and waited and waited. The flowers were on the counter, what could possibly have taken so long. When the assistant reappeared it was obvious what had taken the time. The large ribbon had equally large gold lettering on it with our messages on them. Each letter was a sticker lovingly placed and spaced by the assistant who spoke no English. It must have been a very difficult thing to do, bearing in mind any error would mean the whole thing would go in the bin and she would have to start again. We paid our money and with thanks for their help made our way back to the hotel. There was no point in taking the flowers out in the baking heat so we decided to get some sleep and go out at about 5pm. I slept a little but was up at 3pm sipping water in the shaded front of the hotel when Colin text. We met up and sat under the cover trying to make conversation without getting upset. I told the story of my ride the night before and realised I would need fuel as soon as we could. We went back to our rooms. I showered and put on a fresh shirt and trousers. We met I the car park. I opened the tank and shook the bike there was no fuel in there. I suspect what little remained had been evaporated as the engine cooled the previous night. We siphoned two litres from Colins and went to fill up. Then we rode the few miles from Caspe to the scene of the accident. Molli was play in up, now you and I both know that the fuel had run out and whatever crud lay at the bottom of the tank had now been sucked into the carb making her run rough, but it just seemed that Molli didn’t want to go to where Erik (Ravens BMW) had probably ended his motorcycling days. We approached down the hill to the simple right hand curve in the road and it was obvious what had happened. Just prior to the corner the road had a nasty dip at the point where motorcyclist start to turn in. Hidden from view it catches you out. I had been prepared and we had slowed ready to stop but I could see how this would unsettle a bike. Straight ahead I could see where Erik had impacted the barrier. We placed the flowers and in silence thought our own thoughts, said our own prayers. Colin told me more and I listened intently. We rode back to the hotel and sat at the bar our glasses touched but nothing was said, we knew what we meant. Then out of nowhere I began to laugh, laugh to the point tears ran down my face. I had sent a tweet about Colins fall in the lift and tagged it as comedy gold. Colin looked bemused, “you know who would have laughed at your fall in the lift?” We both laughed and the silence was broken. We were going to leave early the next day and it wasn’t going to be an easy day either so we packed up and before I knew it it was 9.30pm. My call was for pizza and there was a restaurant just across from the hotel. I scoffed a large pepperoni in next to no time and Colin struggled with his Hawaiian. He clearly doesn’t know me as the pizza monster I am and he really doesn’t know that cold pizza the following day is my absolute favourite. I made him box up the rest so we could have it the next day. Caspe was a lovely town and makes its money from the fishing. Apparently the lake homes some of the biggest fish anywhere in Europe. The town itself is a picturesque hilltop affair which looks stunning against the setting sun. I liked Caspe despite having been there under awful circumstances. Tomorrow we would ride through Andorra and on to the Millau Viaduct in France.

8. 717 miles in one day

717miles in a day. More of the mileage later. I was awake at 7am and ready to go, I knew it would be a long day, I wanted an early start, as it is 700 plus miles to the event in three days and I would like a day off. However I hit the snooze button and before I knew it 10am was fast approaching and I was still on the campsite. A speedy trip to the bathroom, bung in some new eyes and I was off. Headed for Faro initially. It seemed to take quite a while and already I was feeling the heat of the day building. I had plenty of water but I was clearly going to need more. From Faro I headed East on the N125 to avoid tolls, passing the point I had said farewell to Colin and Raven. A firm handshake from Colin and a fist bump from Raven. Again it seemed to take an age to reach the Spanish border, but apart from a welcome notice there was nothing to indicate a change of country. I fuelled up and hit the road headed for Seville. The temperature now was into the 30’s and I could feel my bare arms starting to burn. I don’t recall stopping again until Seville where I dived into a McDonald’s for some air conditioning, cold drinks and free WiFi. The bike sat outside in baking temperatures and I worried how she would cope in these conditions. I must have been there an hour before stepping out again into the sauna. I got my jacket out because I needed arms covered from the sun. The bike was still red hot and I tried to be gentle with her. Before long the sun was directly overhead and my neck was starting to burn so I headed for the next petrol station. It was a bit off the beaten track but had all the facilities I needed, a toilet, water, and shade. I drank over a litre of water, topped up my water bottle and dripped some on the exhaust of the bike. It hissed and evaporated immediately. I couldn’t risk trying to cool her that way so I settled down for half an hour. The weather report said hot hot hot all day. I dug around in my kit and pulled out my winter neck cover, why did i pack this? Ripping out the wooly bit I then had a summer neck protector. I opened all the vents on my jacket and emptied two litres of water over myself, rubbing it into the jacket, my jeans, the helmet, neck protector and saddle. It felt good for the first twenty minutes, after which it had evaporated and I was back in the furnace. I wanted to make Cordoba as I knew the road was long and boring. After that I would benefit from just getting as far up the road towards Valencia as possible. That would make for extra time to visit places and actually take photographs. The tank seemed to take forever to empty and when I switched to reserve it was gone 5pm. I fuelled my bike, began the ritual of filling my hydration pack and eating a small bar of chocolate. It was getting close to 40 degrees and I knew I might have to seek a campsite soon as everything was so hot. I was stood sipping water and eating an ice cream when my phone bleeped. It was Colin. It was the first contact today. Message ‘not good news mate. Fucking major issue’. I thought that perhaps his bike had failed again so I replied ‘ what’s happened, where and when’ Message ‘Up in Spain. Raven had a major off, can’t believe it’. Time to stop the texts and call. I will never forget this. Mate what’s happened? Raven has had an accident. Is she ok? No mate. A hospital job? Worse than that. What? It’s fatal. I asked some questions but really I can’t recall what. I did ask Colin where he was and he didn’t know so I told him to get me a town name and I was on my way. Minutes later the town name arrived Caspe. I plumbed it into the sat nav. It was the equivalent of a whole day riding. The sat nav told me it would be 2am by the time I arrived. I clamped my hands to my head, pacing about repeatedly saying “fuck fuck fuck, no, what the fuck”. All completely wasted on anyone who could hear. I text my sister the news and asked for the British Consulate numbers. Having got those I called them. They were very kind and helpful. I then quickly emailed Austin Vince, organiser of the off road event i am due to ride and Rachael, a friend who wanted a chat about a web site she is develloping. I doused my clothes again in water jumped aboard and set off. It was a dual carriageway mostly and as I rode along, fairly numb to the heat, my surroundings and other road users, I thought about Raven and how we had such a great time. A friendship kindling that would surely last. At one point we had likened ourselves to Muppet characters. In my helmet I whispered “bye muppet” and promptly bawled my eyes out. Really I dont recall much of the ride except the part shortly after setting off where the Speedo cable snapped. No biggy, I know my bike will do 250km on a tank and have 50km in the reserve tank. My only record of distance now was the sat nav that only told me how far to the next junction in miles. This was just the right time for a maths test. OK 50km on reserve equates to about 36 miles. The rest didn’t matter as long as I made mental notes when I switched to reserve. Then I saw in the top left corner of the screen it said miles to destination. More maths determined this was going to be at least three tanks of fuel and it was going to be tight if I didn’t get the fuelling right. The big problem was that my visor was bug splattered, my contacts were salty and washing around the sockets from tears and the sat nav is mounted on a flexi coupling. The next fuel stop came and went in a blurr. As I continued north I saw that all the windmills I had admired on the way down were now in semi darkness and all had synchronised flashing lights. The horizon lit up in a stroboscopic display. Raven and I had shared our thoughts on the relative beauty of windmills and the great use they make of the world’s free energy. Inside my helmet I thanked her for the view. Suddenly the bike cut out, I knew this to be the need for fuel. Typically I had just passed the 24hr fuel station sign. It’s ok I will make the next one. I did make the next one and the sat nav told me I was 206 miles from my destination, it was 10pm and light was fading, at 50mph I was still 4 hours away. I ditched my contact lenses and reverted to glasses, causing my vision to blurr until the my eyes adjusted. With 200mile range this was gojng to be a challenge. I rode on having text Colin that I was still coming to him and asking him to book me a room. I was quite adamant that there would be more fuel. The last time I had looked the sat nav had said continue for 100 miles, but now it said take the next exit. I took that exit and stopped to check the sat nav hadn’t thrown a wobbly. It was adamant I needed to take the N330. I happily took that road as sun had now set my lights were proving to be quite ineffective with all the weight on the back of the bike. I had no choice my mate needed me. I had judged speed by the rev counter, oh yes remember in episode one when I noticed the rev counter bulb had blown!! The route was torturous, with twisting lanes barely wide enough for a car and steep hills that sapped the bikes power. This would have been biking nirvana during the day, but now it was biking hell with constant warnings of wildlife and sharp bends. I could see silhouetted mountains as I climbed but inside I wanted straight simple roads for effective mpg and ease of progress. Tiny little villages came and went in darkness. Occasionally a group of youngsters would be stood at the roadside having heard the rattle of the single cylinder 650 thundering its way towards them. I was tense in my shoulders from watching the darkened roads and still being upset at the circumstances of my ride. I lost count of the miles done and I really couldn’t see the miles to go as the sat nav had turned to night mode. Then I took a turn and the sat nav said continue for 32 miles, at the roadside a sign said 30km to the next fuel station. OK 32km is about 18 miles 18 from 32 is 14, when the sat nav says 14miles I will be at the fuel station. I continued on. At 14miles their was a small village with a fuel station but before I even got there I knew it would be closed. This was the back of beyond. I now had just 40 miles to go. Suddenly the bike cut out. I switched to reserve, that’s it I’m not going to make it. I will get close but not make it. These are dark and unforgiving roads at night. But I needed a game plan. Obviously there may be a fuel station along the way but I wasn’t feeling it. So let’s reduce air resistance. I had done this earlier when overtaking lorries in the open plains where cross winds attack you. I ducked down behind the fairing and took one hand off the handlebars, holding the other as straight as possible so it didnt droop into the airflow. At junctions I would sit up and control the bike proper. Also when I didnt have a clear view I would sit up. Feathering the throttle to get maximum fuel economy, easing it on at the hills and off for descents. I tried not to use the brakes as that is wasted energy. Slowly the miles came down. Then a sign for Caspe only six miles, but I needed it to be just one mile. I knew the road number and if there was signal I could always get Colin to send a taxi for me. Oh good it was a steep road cut between two signal sapping hills. I longed for the downhill and in time it came, leading to a roundabout where my sat nav informed me I had reached my destination, but I hadn’t. Colin had sent me the hotel details in a photograph and I needed to put that into the sat nav. Engine off I squinted with tired eyes to make out the address and plumbed it in. 1 mile, for goodness sake will this ever end. I text Colin, Informing him I may not make it and rode round into what looked like a High Street. Stopping again and switching the engine off I looked for anything resembling a hotel. It’s 230am everything looks grey and the same, but up the road I saw a character waving a phone torch light in the street. I had made it, my amazing little bike had done an impossible days work and delivered me safely to Colins location. I rode into the underground car park and we greated each other with a hug. The bike remained loaded up and we went to my room where Colin explained the whole story. We both needed sleep and would deal with things later that day. I was in pain, my hand ached from holding the throttle for 14hours, my arse was red raw and my shoulders ached. I didnt sleep much but when I did it was deep and restful.

7. All change.

It’s Sunday and the day of the parade, but rewind to last night. We returned from the beach and cleaned up. We were advised that security had been teling camoers that locals may try and get on camp or even raid unattended tents during the last night. As a precaution we packed up some of our kit and locked away valuables before making our way to the entertainment area. It was by far the busiest night with Fun Loving Criminals headlining the evening. We started on the beers, primarily because we needed to use up the excess beer tokens we had. Always aware that we would be needing to ride early in the morning. Colin returned to his tent first, exhausted from the days riding. He more so than us as he had been team leader for the excursions and as such had to concentrate more than either myself or Raven. In the great scheme of things Colin has been a legend. Next to faulter was Raven, her day had also been entertaining with her first venture into the sea. She will admit to not being a good swimmer, or even a swimmer but she braved the massive undercurrent and waves to show she could do it. She has been great fun, with her good looks she attracts plenty of attention and her happy go lucky nature makes her fun to be around. I went back to watch FLC’s and was amazed to see they were really ageing. The one track I recognised was Scooby Snack, used in Pulp Fiction. But they were struggling with a crowd that really preferred hard rock. Quite often the lead would call out to the crowd expecting a response and was met with silence. I don’t think he dared to hold the microphone to the crowd for them to sing along. I went to the second stage for a short while where a much better, in my opinion, group were banging out some well known rock anthems. However it was just a few minutes before I was also feeling the draw of my bed. The constant hum of bikes growled over the thumping base of the music and raised voices of drunken revellers. Every now and then a biker or two would see who could hold there bikes on the rev limiter longest. None of this affected my sleep in any way whatsoever. It was just prior to 7am I dragged myself from my pit and began the task of stripping the tent and packing up proper. What happened next stopped me in my tracks. I am due to meet my one remaining team mate in Oliana, Spain in 3 days ready for a two day navigational exercise. We had been a three man team but on our first training session in UK we managed to injure Kevin who had to pull out of the event. Mark and I continued practice and prepare for the event. Mark had set out on Friday and already had a bit of a mare when he wasn’t allowed into France because his passport had been stolen after he left it on his bike saddle for the crossing. Once loaded back on the ferry and ready to sail home he located the passport in a ‘safe’ place he had secreted it. He even managed to get them to reopen the bow doors to let him off. He then rode some off road tracks towards Paris. I had chuckled at his passport incident, but today the message was far worse. Mark was in hospital, having pitched off his bike and broken 5 ribs. His trip is over, as is our challenge on the trails of the Pyrenees. I have messaged him back to see if we need to mount a rescue operation and notified the organisers of our teams demise. I am now awaiting an update before a re-shuffle of my own plans to fit in with people’s needs and my own holiday plans. Anyway back to better times. With the bikes loaded we said our farewells to new friends and had one last team photo. We rode into town looking for a café to get breakfast. I was going to stay to watch the bike parade but Colin and Raven needed to make tracks. I rode with them for 15km before deciding we weren’t going to find a café, I overtook Colin and pulled into the side of the road. We said out goodbyes and promised to stay in touch. I turned in the road and watched them disappear from view in my mirrors as I rode back to town. So again no pictures at this time but trust me when I say I have never seen so many bikes in one parade. The streets remain open but they are lined with spectators. When the bikes start to come through I expected the parade to take a few minutes. Some twenty minutes later the cavalcade of bikes up to 8 deep was still ploughing through the junction I stood at. Every type of bike and rider is accounted for in a bright array of colours all lit by the crystal blue sky. Even some children had got in on the ride on their little peewee 80’s. Some families, reminiscent of other countries crammed the whole family on one bike. I filmed and took photo’s (not that you will see any of them). And then as quick as it started it was over. I went to the shopping centre where I sit now typing this. Well there you go, you are as up to date as I am. (later) I decided not to head back into Spain but instead, against the advice of friends I revisited Albufeira. Well I found an expensive campsite where I sit now listening to the pub singer murdering some family favourite songs. It’s poor karaoke at best. Every song starts and ends with a ‘Yehaw’. Anyway I spent the afternoon at the beach and having yet another swim. My bright white body reflecting the sun directly into others eyes. I have to say I have a full bricklayers white T shirt tan. My arms are super brown as is my neck. I really was just wasting time in the hope that I would get word from Austin about my role, if any, in the upcoming challenge. At this time it has not arrived and I have resorted to asking HU members and Lois Pryce via Twitter to encourage him to look at his emails. I have had news from Mark. He was riding a trail in France when he hit a chain stretched across the path. He is in a lot of pain and hopes his travel insurance will sort recovery for the bike and his return trip home. I’m so far away its almost impossible for me to get to see him. He hopes to be mobile enough in 6 days to travel back home. Back to the bar here at the campsite. The pub singer has finished and the second half of the entertainment has started, the reptile show. Now if you own a bar and you want to clear it in seconds flat, employ a reptile handler to release snakes into the crowd. Honestly it has emptied with much screaming of children and adults alike.

6. A few days on.

It’s Friday now and thanks to the power of solar energy I have electricity a plenty with which to write. So let’s go back to Thursday. We were up relatively early and had several coffees at the hotel to start the day. The bikes loaded we set of about 10am for the long 6km journey to the bike meet site. With Colin leading the way we arrived and parked up at the entrance to pay out fees collect our free T shirts, badges, stickers, oil and condoms. Yep free sex! I’m not sure I needed six but maybe the lady behind the counter thought I was a catch. Having registered we set sail into the vast wooed area this site is made up of. The organisation alone makes it worth the entry fee. Routes to various camping areas are marked out, fenced off and lit. There are walkways with overhead water sprays to keep you cool. The facilities are excellent and extensive. The site is right next to the airport and I understand it is usually just a wooded park area with no facilities at all. We found the spot Colins friends Gel and Jason had marked out for us and them. We set about pitching tents. Raven has a large two man tent and Colin a small mobile mansion. I would say, see the attached picture but you know me and getting pictures attached. Anyhow the tents were up in quick time and we went for a walk around the site. The first port of call the stall where you exchange cash for beer tokens. Then a walk around more and more stalls selling all things from salted squid to tattoos of salted squid. A few beers later we sat at the entrance watching the endless stream of bikes coming onto the site. Every conceivable bike and some spectacular custom jobs. If you ever thought you were elite riding a Harley Davidson, come and see this place. Come to this place anyway it is incredible. After, literally a few hours bike watching and spending beer tokens we wandered back through to one of the two large entertainment areas, with a stage, live music and yet more food stalls. Once the sun had set it was just the right temperature to walk talk and thoroughly enjoy meeting new people. Bikers are inherently friendly, unless like Raven you bump into a guy and during your apology you rub his arm, at which point he gets very angry at being touched. I’m guessing he will be taking his condoms home. It was just after midnight that we strolled back to our tents with music still pumping into the night air and bikes arriving at various engine pitches I crashed drunkenly into my tent and slept soundly. Colin was up early and had the coffee on, good lad. I dragged myself out of the tent and into the start of yet another glorious day. We have quite a shaded spot so the intense heat of the day hadn’t cut through the trees yet. I am loving my camping stool. A purchase made after last year’s trip when I realised the only thing I missed when using the tiny tent is a place to sit comfortably. There are some uber expensive aluminium and fabric chairs that fold down small or there are some cheap copies. I have a cheap copy and my bum doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe it will when the cheapness shows and the thing collapses impaling me. After a quick clean up we set off to the beach for breakfast. The day was starting to warm up and for the second time in a life of riding bikes I found myself wearing a t shirt and no gloves. If anything it heightens your awareness, makes you scared is what it does. More coffee and a toasted cheese sandwich set us up for the day. Raven needed a new air bed so we headed back into town. My bike has needed a new foot on the side stand for sometime as in sand it just sinks. I had one ready to fit but ran out of time prior to setting off. Anyway I purchased a pair of babies training shoes and some expanding foam. Moments later my side stand is very cool in its new training shoe. Back into the air conditioned shops for 30 minutes whilst the foam set and hey presto a unique little side stand, not quite unique as Raven has the same but with a shoe. I did try to purchase a solar charger and was sent to Staples but no one had any left. Back on camp I borrowed Ravens solar charger and my tablet is up and running. The Sun is starting to kick in now and although I suspect its great for the solar panel, its not so great for the palid white blogger. I’m going to hit the showers then maybe the beach before it all starts again this evening. I want to know how many people are here, according to the website last year saw 40 thousand bikers here, no wonder I couldn’t find my tent earlier. It’s Saturday now and yes indeed we did go to the beach for a swim. The waves were massive and washed us further downstream with each breaker. It was a short exhaustive swim but it felt good. We returned to the camp and cleaned up before hitting the entertainment area. We walked around the stalls, which mostly sold leather biker kit and associated vests with tassels and the like. For some reason we struggled to decide on food and ended up just eating a sweet waffle before attacking the beer. The music was good, the bikes better and all washed down with a few good beers some great laughs and the communal feeling of brotherhood between bikers. There are exhibitions of choppers built to perfection and rat bikes alike. Some big names have stalls but mostly they are independent traders. At about 11pm Colin and Raven retired for the night and I went on to watch some more live music supplied by a surprisingly good all female rock band. However beer and long days forced me to my bed at about 1am. Amazingly the party continued throughout the night and the hoards of people just didn’t seem to die down. We were up early and formed a plan to go out for a ride into the local countryside. First breakfast at the now regular haunt of the shopping centre Faro Forum. From there we just set off looking for little used roads and local life. We stumbled across a colourful little market in Olhao. We checked out the abundant fruit stalls and a warehouse with the remains of the days fish catch. I really don’t like the smell or taste of most fish but I did enjoy seeing the various sizes and types of fish caught locally. From there we wandered some more and I was pleased to get some good gopro footage to make some kind of holiday video from later. Back in Faro we went to the headquarters of the Moto Club Faro. Wow what a clubhouse. When I think back to the clubhouse used by the motorcycle club of my youth, it was a reading room in a tiny village with wooden floor, plastic chairs and a tea urn. This place was out of this world, a huge white building set on a hill in the centre of Faro with ample bike parking spaces and inside the you could see why they needed ample parking. The place was like a Hard Rock Café for club members and visitors alike. We had a beer and checked out the various bikes and engines displayed within the building. The food looked great too but none of us were hungry. We decided that another swim was in order and as I had the gopro with us we filmed the escapades of trying, firstly to get in the sea and then not be swept away by the ferocious currents. A short swim was all that we could manage before we dragged ourselves exhausted from the water to air dry in the sun. Having semi dried we came back to camp in order to clean up before this evening’s events. The headline act “The fun loving criminals”. So I’m off to the showers to get cleaned up. Tomorrow is Sunday and the main event is the ride out through the town. I have decided not to take part as I think the true spectacle will be as a spectator. Upwards of 30000 bikes are expected to take part. So it’s an early start for us with the packing up to be done early and get off site prior to the ride out. After that I will be headed off to make Oliana in time for the event I have entered there.

5. Faro at last

It’s Wednesday, I had to tell myself that as its all blurring into one big adventure. So last night Colin and co made a long journey well into the night and camped wild. I hope they had better neighbours than mine when I tried that. Anyway a plan was hatched to meet up today at a small town called Camas. For some reason Colin wanted to meet at 7am, does he not know this is my holiday. Anyway using the age old barter skills we agreed on 10am. I am currently sat at Pomodoro Cafe inside the Carrefour at Camas, enjoying tosdados and coffee. The bike is fuelled and I’m ready to go. Let’s just rewind to yesterday.

   Did I mention getting caught up in a dust twister? I’m going to call it that because I don’t know the real name. It was like a mini tornado of dust. I was filming it across the field as I rode along and it seemed to go behind me as our paths met, but the sudden wind really shook me and the bike. All very exciting. I saw another two but they missed me. Ahh I also forgot to mention the strip club. But let’s just move that to one side for a second and talk about the weird set up of towns and rural industrial spaces. So towns seem to conform to what we would expect, all the houses and businesses in and around a central hub of shops and cafes etc. In stark contrast, out on the open road in the middle of nowhere appears to be huge strings of business premises. Not all are functional but all do appear to be miles from civilisation. I can see that it makes owning company buildings cheap, but just who works there? Everyone must have company cars and fuel cards for sure. Also who needs that many plant machinery places. At first I thought it was just me being a plant spotter but having met up with Colin he also shares my view that there are huge numbers of yards, some sporting very old and battered machinery. Does everyone in Europe play by the same rules, as I am sure our kit has to be safer. Anyway whilst pondering this and many other questions on this long stretch of very flat, very boring road I saw a strip club, right there a million miles from any town. So who, what, why etc. Anyway there wasn’t a queue!! No I didn’t. Back to today. We did indeed all meet up and rode the last 100km to Portugal as a threesome. The road was as always a dual carriageway right up until the border where we were stopped. However, we were stopped for nothing more than a chat and given some nice directions to avoid the toll roads into Faro. The road we used was a rough track compared to the endless dual carriageway but it made a nice change and tested our skills at predicting what the locals were going to do as they went about there lives driving with various levels of skill. One guy behind me was filming us on his mobile so I obliged with a quick wheelie and then spent the next 15 minutes checking behind to see if he was in fact a cop.

Without to much issue Colin guided us to the hotel Realgarve and we booked in. I had intended to stay on a campsite but Colin got a great deal on 2 rooms so I stayed. We ate well and had a few beers before I came over all holiday maker and went to the pool for a swim. Followed by a reddening session in the sun. Then back to my room for a nap before dinner. Finally a decent cooked meal with beer obviously. We chatted and engaged each other with tales before walking into Faro town which was pretty much closed. Back to the hotel then for coffee, ice cream and bed. That’s pretty much it for today, no long miles just a nice ride in some lovely sunshine and arriving at our destination. Colin assures me there will be no sleep for the next three nights of the Faro bike rally and we are setting off early to get our pitch sorted out. I can’t guarantee any more posts for a few days as I am running out of battery again and the battery bank takes forever to charge on the bike which has to be running in order to charge. As we are not going anywhere for a while it may be an issue. Just to leave you with my next quandary, I have to be in Oliana on Wednesday. Oliana is 800miles away and I could be here until Monday. It’s a long ride and most of it is back the way I came. Next time I need to allow more time to see the areas I visit. But that is why we do shake down trips to test machine, equipment and set boundaries for what we want from a trip.

4. 360 miles. A long slog

So day 4 started with the rewrite of day 3 and subsequent posting. It all took much longer than anticipated so I am going to try another approach. Today’s blog is brought to you by Google docs in association with the blogger app.

  OMG I added a photo and it’s the right way up! So this is last night’s hotel, a lavish affair with marble stairs and a 3 bed room with En suite. As you can see the bike wore her PJ’s.

In the travelling world they call it the invisibility cloak as no one looks at a covered bike, it’s just a covered machine. In fact I’m surprised you can see it at all in its camo gear. Ok I’m washed and cleaned its time to get rolling, catch you later. (later) So I made it to Madrid in some pretty heavy traffic. The bike sure felt the heat and my leg got the brunt of it. I badly needed a coffee. Purchased said coffee and sat down to update my photos only to find the advertised WiFi doesn’t work. I have tried to contact Colin and Raven to see how they are getting on, I forgot to mention that they had taken refuge after a massive downpour left them soaked through. I suspect they are gaining on me as I settle into a more leisurely pace. My pace was a steady 110kph on the way here, until the traffic build up. I passed Guadalajara which looked a clean modern city but decided not to stop as Madrid was my target location. On arrival Madrid is a bustling capital city full of high rise buildings and old architecture. All very clean but stubbornly hot for a bloke in a riding suit. I don’t actually have any plans for the route from here so I dragged the map out and have found a route to Cordoba. My plans of riding the trans Portugal track have been shelved as the bike is so heavily loaded. I’m not sure it could handle off roading with all that weight, now I regret not replacing the rear shock that looks permanently compressed and sagging. I’m told the Suzuki SV650 has the same rear shock and second hand they are quite cheap. So I have had contact from Colin saying his bike is playing up and he has had to stop to repair it. They hope to make Seville by tonight. I’m not sure I will get that far but I’ll give it a go.

I didn’t make it Seville but nor did the others. Colins bike had issues with the stator rings and alternator connections. However they are fixed and on the road again. I, on the other hand, am on a campsite near Cordoba. After my posh coffee in Madrid I walked the town for about half an hour but the heat and the crowds were no place for me in riding kit with a rucksack and crash helmet to carry. I did manage to pick up a battery bank for the tablet, and once I had used the phone sat nav to get me out the city, I plugged it in to charge. The road was straight and dull, what’s more it was going to be like this for 300km. I rode until the bike demanded fuel and stopped to fuel us both.  I know the bike does about 200km per tank with a reserve of 50km. Using that almost clockwork accuracy I can judge when to fill her up before hitting the reserve. I found a shaded area at the filling station and sat down to eat my sandwich. Man it was bad. I could only make out that the box said barbecue something. I will never know what that something was and only one half got eaten. I’m not sure even the local rats would eat the other, in fact it may have been a barbecued relative. Another Red Bull lunch.

Back on the road I played with the gopro and POV stick, but really there is only so much you can do before even that gets dull. Meanwhile little Honda plodded away the kilometres. The road seemed to be cutting across a huge expanse of open land, very flat and burnt to within an inch of life. It was sauna hot in my kit despite opening all the vents on my dessert range of bike gear. The wind hit me at a 45 degree angle from the front right, causing me to have to lean to the right to keep straight. Unless overtaking a lorry when the wind died and the leaning right thing made me career towards the side of the lorry. Then as I passed the driver, again the wind hit. After a while it became easy to just lean, not lean and lean again. However the bike felt like it was struggling at times and I was getting very hungry. I ran out of water in my hydration pack and decided enough was enough. The bike was going to need fuel again soon and that would be a good time to stop. With that the engine died. I knew it was low fuel by the way she just shut down. Switching to reserve she fired up and carried on, but it was clear to see the headwind had made hard work for the engine reducing the tanks range by 25km. I filled myself up on iced coffee and yet another burger. The bike was fuelled and I even remembered to find a campsite online before setting off. It was an hour’s ride and the bike made easier work of it than I. On arrival at La Carlota it didn’t take long to find the site, get signed in and pitch my tent. The ground is rock hard and my new French neighbour kindly leant me a hammer. Luckily my tent will pitch easily with just three pegs and as there is no wind I suspect it will need no more. Next to the French family are two female bikers who went past me earlier on a Harley. They don’t speak English but I managed to get from them that they are also going to Faro for the bike meet. So far the 4 People I have met are all leather clad, leather skinned bikers. I hope I fit in! Right its time for a shower before finding the bar and night club. Alright the bar and then my bed. Colin and Raven are on the road again and riding into the evening to make up time. I am not sure they need to make up much as the Faro thing starts in 2 days and I am only 3 hours from there. Time to dig out the map and see what’s close by. Once again I promise to take more pics soon.

3. WOW WOW WOW

Well let’s see now, last time I blogged there had been a few ales sunk. So let’s get up to speed. I know nothing of football but hey I’m in the south of France in a bar and its the Euro thingy final. France are playing Portugal, so at some point I’m going to be in the winning teams country. France lost and the evening’s entertainment was cut short. But I had made friends, cheered on a team and eaten pizza thanks to the lady who purchased more than she could eat. At least I think that’s what she meant! Anyway it was very nice. After the curtailed festivities I made my way back to the campsite and crawled drunkenly onto the air bed. I was woken sometime later by an enormous thunderstorm. It seemed to go on for ages. If it were not for my throbbing head I would have taken some pictures. As it was, the rain fell all night. The bike was not covered which meant by morning my sheepskin saddle cover was drenched. I pulled back the tent flap and crawled out, managing three steps before throwing up. Morning campers, don’t mind me blowing chunks as you eat your corn flakes!
Anyway if it needed proving, I can confirm lack of food and excess beer is no cure for dehydration. To the bathroom to clean up and put in some eyes for the day. I’ve had contacts for nearly a year and still struggle to poke myself in the eyes. However it beats the hell out of putting specs on and off with a crash helmet. All of which goes out the window when the sun shines as sunnies are called for.
I digress. The bike was ready in double quick time and I said bon voyage to the French biker couple who are making their way back to their home in LaRochelle. I rode out and quickly picked up the road to Pau. Immediately bursting into Carol Deckers hits ‘China in your hand’ and ‘Heart and Soul’ (Ta Pau). Once I got to Pau (It was a theme she had, On a scheme he had, told in a foreign land, To take life on earth, To the second birth and the man was in command. “I’ll stop now”) I found myself in yet another McD’s having coffee and a burger to bolster my grumbling tummy.

I then followed signs for Oloron St Marie where I had seen a road on the map that looked twisty, rather than the main road into the Pyrenees. It was biking heaven with no more than 50m of straight between bends and it went on for ages, although no great increase in altitude I seemed to think. When eventually the road came to an end I had done some weird dog leg and was still 30km from the road proper. Looking at the map now I can’t recall where exactly I was when I first saw the mountains looming up into the cloud but it was a breath taking site. The Sun was breaking through from what had been quite a dull start and I had a good feeling about this next section. What followed was an attack on the senses. The air was cleaner, I mean you could taste the lack of any pollution, the sights were beyond description for a mere mortal like me. Mother nature (or God if you like) has done a wonderful job to create such sights.

The roads were sublime, perfect tarmac with mostly long sweeping bends affording ever more breath taking vista’s at every turn. Even the bike sounded content purring away under me as we climbed the 6000 ft to the top. I stopped several times to take pictures and also got some gopro footage for later. I hope I have managed to add some pictures to this blogg by the time it goes live. It was so good the miles slipped past, well the kilometres actually as my bike is Spanish by origin and as such has a kilometre speedo. Unfortunately the UK law states that it must have a mph speedo and so to get round this the dealer slapped a sticker over the top of the original dial. The net effect is that you cannot see the kph for the sticker which is hopelessly inaccurate for use in UK.
Onwards.

So I made it through to Spain and started the journey south in blistering heat. My right leg burning at the ankle from heat generated by the exhaust. I knew I should have put that heat shield back on. Yet more breath taking scenery followed with the mountains replaced by wide open spaces, massive expanses of land as far as the eye could see. It made me realise that in the UK you can always tell its an island because the views never open up like this. Don’t get me wrong I have seen wonderful places within the UK, mostly through the rain but they are there. Talking of rain, there was a heavy downpour headed my way and I really needed to find cover, if not the side pouch of the throwovers may have to be opened and no one wants that, oh no! With the best timing ever a service station and café came into view with a covered parking area so I dived in. Burger and chips ordered I sat down to catch up with Colin and Raven. They were still in France and making good progress. The rain passed without hitting the café area and after a coffee I hit the road again. An hour later the bike needed a fuel and I, the chance to cool down a little, so I pulled into a service station and topped up. Now, if my French is poor my Spanish is non existent and I have to be grateful that sign language and other people’s decent education gets us through. It was here that I saw battery banks for sale. These small units can charge or recharge your phone or laptop several times from one charge of their own. I have limited knowledge on such things and would have purchased one if I was certain it would charge up from my remaining USB point on the bike. However much sign language and shrugging of shoulders between me and the very kind assistant couldn’t resolve this dilemma. I’m hoping the question I have posted on the HU website will answer that soon. Outside as the bike cooled in what little shade there was, I drank my energy drink. The can had Valentino Rossi on it so I am confident my riding will improve, especially the leg wave! As I gulped the fizzy gunge a Harley style bike pulled in with rider and pillion dressed in black leather. The pillion stepped off and came over. They are both French from LeHarve and are on their way to the Faro bike meet. They seemed impressed that I was also venturing that way despite the fact we had completed much the same route. We chatted for a while before I headed off, bikers are friendly people and it was great to know that we all get along wherever we meet. I was headed towards Zaragosse which the bikers had told me was an expensive place to stay. Decision made, as the riding was going so well I would carry on another 60 miles and then look for a campsite. The road was the A2 and as its lavish description alludes to it was a long straightish dual carriageway. I invented a new game, as cars pass check the passenger and point to the gopro then wave. Loads of people waved back, next time I will turn the camera on. I stopped probably 100miles from Madrid and plugged campsites into the sat nav on my phone. Excellent there were loads back at Zaragosse and none here. OK its wild camping time. I picked up some water and headed off road to find somewhere discrete. I located a spot on a hillside within sight of the road. I pitched the tent behind a bush and covered the bike behind another. That was it, I’m wild camping. It was at this point I sat in my little tent and started this blogg, getting used to the noises that would no doubt wake me during the night, but if I could recognise them now there would be no issue when it was dark. It as nearly 9pm when I heard dogs howling close by and I poked my head out to see what that was all about. What followed was the sight of three wild dogs chasing a small rodent just about 100m from my tent. They got it and ripped it to pieces before scampering off the nearby shrubs. I was in no mood to have to protect myself from wild dogs, armed only with a pen knife and a packet of M&M’s I didn’t stand much chance. So, can you pack up and leave a camp site in under five minutes? I can do it in 3. I could even see a hotel from my hillside and within 20 minutes I was in opulent glory. Expensive opulent glory, but what price your life?
Anyhow the blog I had written got stuck in the blogger app and had to be deleted so I have written this all for a second time. My apologies for lack of photos again but I will find time to learn how its done and actually stop to take more. I’m having so much fun and the views appear so often I just want more. Maybe I need to slow it down some and that is the plan for today (I’m writing this on Tuesday 12th or day 4). Hopefully this will all copy over into blogger and I will do more tonight.

2. Saddle sore

It’s the end of day 2 and I am short on time as the battery in the tab is low. The expensive USB charger I purchased for the trip has gone duff. I still have the cheap Chinese one but that is linked into the ignition and the bike has done more than enough running today, allied to that the charger is handlebar mounted and the tab isn’t. However my excellent French enabled me to converse with a family on the camp site and they charged it to 40% before they had to go out. I say my excellent French, it was more my ability to spot the child who speaks English and get her to ask mum n dad (momma et pappa). I’m a natural me!


So I was up early and straight on the road, ok it was 9am and then I had the full breakfast before packing and setting sail. I had spent the night in a F1 hotel at La Roche Sur Yon. It was just my bad luck that a whole troop of batten twirlers were staying there and were practicing late into the night. I had to stay, it would have been rude not to. Anyway on with the journey. It was already hot by the time the bike was loaded and on the road. Again I chose to make miles rather than sight see. Although I did drop into La Rochelle, another holiday destination from my youth. Funny how things don’t seem the same 35 years later! It was very built up and I never did find the beach that we camped on as teenagers. I headed south towards Bordeaux, the wine region. There were plenty of grape vines to prove I was in the area and for some reason a number of roadside melon sellers. I don’t know much about the French but I certainly didn’t know they do melon. I do know that their housing confuses me. It all looks so old and everywhere has shutters. Most places look medieval but cared for. I think I like it. Obviously I can’t show you pictures because I’m still a newbie at this blogging app thingy.


Today was also bike maintenance day. Oh yes the left mirror came loose. It was the friction screw, so I fixed it in no time. I did glance over the rest of it and even tried to jury rig a charger for the tablet but it wasn’t going to happen. Does filling it up with fuel count as maintenance? I did that twice and even used my credit card because its Sunday and the French still do that Sunday rest thing. In fact they do a lot of chilled stuff and again I quite like it. For instance I am now sat at a bar with a beer enjoying the evening with other chillaxed people. I came here first because I was thirsty and then I saw the ice cream menu. If they did pizza I may never leave.

Sorry if this is all a bit disjointed but I am aware that battery life is limited and the quantity of beer seems directly proportional to the speed and accuracy of the typing hic hic.
Only once today did I need the yellow arrow (see pic), having performed a fantastic feet up turn in the narrow road I was immediately confronted by another mad French man on the wrong side of the carriageway. Oh no sorry it was me again.



I have had contact from Colin and Raven. So, Colin is a friend from work and Raven is, well Raven is a friend of Colins I think. Anyway here’s the rub. Colin and I were chatting one day and he found out my intention to do a Europe trip this year. He suggested the bike meet at Faro. He then suggested we meet there. He must know I’m a terrible companion to travel with. It was agreed, right up to the point that he cancelled due to work commitments. Well that got sorted and him and Raven are currently headed down through France and hopefully we will all meet up at some point in Faro. He just messaged me to say he knocked Raven off her bike. It was slow speed and no damage. They are tying to do another 100km before bedding down. I am trying to do a few more litres before doing the same.
Today’s roads were long and straight, I got so bored I even filmed some corners when they happened. Having said that I made good progress with another 280 miles bagged. I was heading for Pau but I came to Aire Sur L’adour first. As I turned into the town I crossed a bridge over a small river. It was very picturesque, and then I saw a camp site right at the edge of the river. I had to stop there. “Un personne pour un nuit avec un tente si vous plait mate”. It worked and a few minutes later I was ensconced by the rivers edge. Ablutions done I went to the bar in the square and here we are up to date.

The Adour River with a weir on one side of the bridge and my campsite on the other. At the end of the road is the bar where I wrote this blog

You have my sincere apologies if this is an awful post but its all I can manage at this time. I will work on the photographs and maybe even videos but for now be grateful I am not posting pictures of the toilets along the way!