Why travel the world? Because I have nowhere else to go...

The tragedy of life is not so much what men suffer, but rather what they miss. ~Thomas Carlyle

It's not easy to get some perspective on this trip. Having never travelled outside the U.K. I have no frame of reference, so to answer most questions I can only speculate. It's natural to worry, but I'm level-headed enough to know that worrying is as useful as a concrete trampoline. After all, today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday. Yes we're bound to get hopelessly lost, but these are the events that make the journey.

I'm worried in case the huge mileages across Russia will be tedious. I've considered a motorcycle specific sat-nav that plays MP3s as a form of entertainment rather than a tool, handy across Europe because it saves stopping each time you need the map, but it's useless in Russia, as the maps are unavailable, and was still illegal to use until 2006. It therefore doesn't justify it's cost. Besides, there is only one main road [sic] across Eastern Russia, so how lost could we get? Most traffic on this new 'highway' is imported Japanese cars, driven from Vladivostok to Moscow, for sale at an inflated price. So to answer another popular question, 'Am I worried about food and fuel,' the answer is no. As a result of these car imports, food and fuel is available everywhere from new fuel stations cropping up along the route. Geoff still prefers a map, as do I, technology will always be as unreliable as those who design it but I find it has intrinsic value. Technology changes everything, so it's not just a logical step but an ecological step forward. You wouldn't be reading this otherwise. Geoff's reason for his 'technophobia' is because he would never survive his fellow courier's riducule at his ineptitude neccessitating his need for a sat-nav, even though he won't admit it. What a shame to succumb to peer pressure at his age. Strange how he prefers his laptop to chalk on a cave wall. Maybe if that many people were attracted to his cave it would probably now be a Tesco express.

Of course I'm worried about crashing the bike, it's one of the main reasons why I'm still alive! I did have a close call just after my 18th birthday. My Honda C90 lost an arguement with a tanker lorry full of human excrement. Whilst laying in traction in hospital my older brother Phil paid me a visit in full mechanics well-used attire, both wondering how we had got in such a state, and assured me the lorry was empty, as he had just finished servicing the lorry minutes before it hit me. 'No shit!' I exclaimed. It was nonetheless a painful experience. No pain-good! Years of experience have taught me the main skill, is ride the bike in a safe way so that you don't have to rely on the skills you've learnt.

In Siberia, and anywhere else for that matter, should the worst happen we will have medical insurance that covers repatriation for us and the bikes. A simple 'what if...?' will prevent most people doing anything let alone achieving their dreams. As a motorcyclist I realise what most people dont; where there is a road, there is life.

The water in Majorca....

If you should find yourself in nowhere, you should know where to find yourself. - Alan Kelly.

As I lay awake early on Sunday, wondering why the sun never ceases to rise every morning as a relentless reminder of the passage of time, it suddenly dawned on me. In these last few weeks planning this trip I have forgotten the fundamental reason. I've been busier than a one-legged cat trying to bury a turd on a frozen pond and haven't taken the time to ride my bike anywhere. After all, how many more sunrises can I hope to see? The following events that followed my following thoughts followed a swift phone call as follows-

'Geoff, I think today must be 'Pie day'

'I couldn't agree more Al, see you at 11.30.'

There is something to be said for modern bike clothing. My new triple layer winter kit kept me a little too warm even though the frost hadn't yet cleared. There wasn't a cloud in the sky as I carved my way along the narrow twisting lanes towards Broxted. Now I remember, this is what being alive feels like, in a way only motorcyclists can understand. At least in winter you don't catch bugs in your grin. Geoff followed at an exaggerated safe distance, he really should trust me more. Pie first, then photos. It was a perfect day until the discovery of a nice pub, with a distinct lack of pie. I suppose change is as good as a rest, unfortunately when I paid the bill the barman had no concept of the word 'change'.

There is a little known route to the end of the runway at Stansted where we could park the bikes for an 'arty' photo session. If you know of 'Elsenham Still Artesian Bottled Spring Water' located at Green street Elsenham, follow Green street to the end and you will be parked at the end of the runway at Stansted airport. It was only a mile from the pub so we swapped bikes for a test ride. Strange how two identical bikes can feel so different.

'I don't like this and that' said Geoff.

'Me neither, and yours also is generally poxy' I replied. 'Swap back? Ok!'

We hoped to photograph the bikes with a plane coming in to land in the background. Unfortunately the planes were taking off in the opposite direction than usual, so were too high for a good photo. As reliable as Geoff remembering to charge the camera batteries. Apart fom that, we had a successful day.

If you are unaware of Elsenham water, bottled at source from a pure confined aquifer, (a chalk borehole to you and me...) it was the world most expensive uber-premium water in 2005 at £30 for a 750ml hand polished, French fashion designed, trademark capped bottle. I mean who actually wants 'House Water' these days? At an average price of 96p a litre it's a little 'too available' when you would hope to have something more 'Glacial' or 'Mountainous' and 100.000 times more expensive? Naturally Geoff and I are arranging to have a regular airdrop of this finest of 'Stumbled On Searching For A Water Leak In My Jam Factory, Borehole Created In 1890, Used As A Well In 1919, Abandoned In The Sixties After It Broke, Purest Artesian Still Water From An Essex Industrial Estate.' If there was ever a story of all's well, that ends well, I suppose this is it. Personally, whilst dining at El Bulli, the worlds finest multi-Michelin starred Catalan restaurant, it's still perfectly permissible to ask for a jug of tap water. The only cost you'd incur would be the potential disdain of neighbouring diners.

Currently I believe the most expensive water is 'Bling H2o' at £40 a bottle. Some Hollywood 'celebs' even buy it for their dogs, allegedly.

These people are exactly the type I would like to give a guided tour of Farleigh hospice to, so that they may see how donating the price of a bottle of water could make a huge difference to someones life.

You won't add days to your life by drinking overpriced spring water, so maybe you could fill a bottle with tapwater and donate what you may spend on 'Eau Naturelle' to help Farleigh Hospice add life to their patients days.

I've made it easy for you, please visit my fundraising page-http://www.justgiving.com/alankelly1

I saw a sign saying 'Go for it!' So I went for it. It had gone....

Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You'll find what you need to furnish it - memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey. ~Tad Williams

Many people are showing an interest in this trip and asking questions such as, 'What route are you taking?' Well, here's the plan so far....er....er....the trouble is, apart from being busier than a one armed man pitching a tent in a storm, we aren't accustomed to choosing specific destinations. We choose a direction. It's often said 'Never ask a motorcyclist for directions' because we will always choose the most pleasurable route, often the longest. With the exception of Geoff, when he's trying to scrape a living in London, but if you asked him how to get to the Lake district for example, it definitely wouldn't be up the M6! We have made a general route, which will hopefully pan out as we go, depending on what we see, who we meet, where we find to stay etc. We hope to leave St. Teresa's Hospice in Darlington on 23rd April, St. George's day, then meander our way across Scotland, down to Eskdale in the lakes, The Boot Inn for pie, and Wast Water which was voted 'Britains favorite view' and was until the view has since been blocked by tourists! Snowdonia, across Wales then Farleigh Hospice in Chelmsford. Incidentally, did you know there is only one lake in the Lake district? Bassenthwaite Lake, all the others are Meres, Waters or Tarns, and one reservoir. Finally, after a send-off from the Ace Cafe http://www.ace-cafe-london.com/ we'll be taking a ferry to Calais on 1st May, courtesy of the kind people at P&O who offered to take us free of charge! www.poferries.com/ or more likely our friends had a whip-round to ensure we leave the country....

Europe is by far the most expensive part of the trip, so we hope to cross it fairly quick via France, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Austria, Slovenia, along the Adriatic coast, Albania, Greece, possibly Turkey if we can get away with a Carnet, otherwise it's up through Bulgaria, Romania and the Ukraine to our first port of call in Russia, Volgograd. Mainly because we have been reliably informed Volgograd is home to some of Russia's most beautiful women! This of course all depending on if and when our Russian visas allow us to enter. If not, then it's plan B. Despite Vladimir Putin recently flexing his political muscles, this doesn't seem to affect the tourist trade as Russia doesn't want a bad name. Then it's a simple task of following the River Volga north until we find the road heading east to Irkutsk and Lake Baikal, the largest freshwater lake in the world. Again depending on visas, a view to entering Kazakstan and Mongolia on the way. From Irkutsk along the new 'Amur Highway' around the top of China to Vladivostok. China would make a fantastic shortcut but unfortunately is a logistical nightmare for motorcycle travellers of our ilk.

All that's left is to sally forth, infiltrate a place of conveyance for two bikes and riders to Anchorage. Vladivostok air should be flying direct to Anchorage by the time we arrive if not, then it's via Japan, which we may choose to do so anyway thanks to Austin Vince's recommendation! After a casual jaunt across Alaska and British Columbia, pay a visit to Geoff's brother Alan in Boonville CA. down to Mexico and back across to New York. Our budget doesn't exactly cover our way home from N.Y. but we are both good swimmers and Geoff does look rather fetching in his orange armbands. The fact that they match his orange bike is not a coincidence!

MCN London bike show at Excel

You would think two long sleeved T-shirts and a jumper under my leathers would be warm enough, but even my best impression of the Michelin man proved insufficient. Still, I was safe in the knowledge that Geoff, London courier extraordinaire, would waste no time leading me to Excel, and warmth. I admire his honesty at missing the turning, but as I could only follow his sillouhette in the morning sun, didn't notice. I'm sure Eastern Russia will be simpler to navigate than East London. It was twenty years and a wasteland since I last set foot in Docklands and it is almost unrecognisable to me. No sooner had I entered the show, clinging to a large full caff' triple shot extra fat Crappacino Americano eye-opener that felt hotter than the sun, I was sampling the winter riding gear like a moth to a lightbulb. Look after my jacket Geoff, cheers mate! (couriers can carry anything anywhere.) Ten minutes later I'm fully kitted, looking like a billboard for Mr. Frank Thomas, and convalescing from open wallet surgery. £10 off for cash? Ta muchly! Kangaroo leather gloves may be exceptionally comfortable but, to my dismay, I believe they smell like what I imagine a dead kangaroo would.
I admire Ewan and Charley for getting bikes onto mainstream tv, but seeing their grinning mugs over half the stands, promoting themselves and all the latest must-have kit, is starting to alienate many bikers. How can the average biker ever believe they can ride around the world without about 40 people working for them, two backup vehicles, and a full catalogue of kit? Ok, it was a long tough ride but what exactly did they have to worry about? Hardly the spirit of adventure, more like a package tour. Bikes used to be a cheap form of transport for the working class, now they have been taken over by consumerism to become the latest fashion accessory. 'May I direct you to our new 'Moron ruse' catalogue Sir?' I'm sure Ewan was in that film...or was it Moulin Rouge? Same difference. N.B. If anyone is awaiting the delivery of new Ducati 848, the entire years production run seems to be at Excel, promoting everything from colourful titanium nuts, to carbon fibre bodywork to shave off those all important milligrams. Lifestyles of the kitch and shameless.
This is where around the world record holder Nick Sanders, 20.000 miles in less than 20 days, (reality is a nice place but he wouldn't want to live there) and Austin Vince come in. I have to thank Nick for showing us we don't need anything or anybody, just ride the bike. The destination is only where the journey ends. Austin however, proved (twice) not only that travelling the world is possible for anyone with any bike, but most importantly with a surprisingly small budget. I believe he had £10 a day so if he can, we can. Thanks for the advice and the badges Austin, we were like two kids visiting Santa!
So that's it, I'm fully kitted out and ready to go. Everything I need except for a few spare bulbs, plugs, filters, chain/sprockets, chain splitter/riveter, tyres, puncture kit, cables, brakepads, tools, towrope, camping gear, water purifier, cooking stove/utensils, food containers, documents, copies of documents, visa, international driving licence, medical kit/insurance, camera, journal, bike to bike radios, list of everything Geoff thinks of that I forget, and most important of all, an emergency spare sense of humour.