Poor Circulation Around The World On £20 A Day

A quick spin from the Ace Cafe, around the world and back.

2008-11-18T14:30:00.014Z

Riding with Geoff on the M25 in the pouring rain is all I could've hoped for to end this amazing trip. The first time we'd ridden together since leaving the ferry at Sok Cho, Korea. We parked our bikes at the Ace in a special coned off area just for us, exactly where we started from. We were instantly surrounded by familiar faces that saw us set off back in April. I only expected a few to turn up in such bad weather but more and more bikes arrived and soon the car park was as overwhelmed as us. I doubt I'll ever be comfortable having my photo taken. I certainly didn't do this trip for an 'Around The World' badge! I'm just a geezer who likes riding motorcycles, but any publicity I can get for Farleigh Hospice is my pleasure.
One thing I missed on this trip was a good English breakfast, there's only so much Borsch and stale khleb a man can take! The Ace Cafe certainly serves up one of the very best. Many a time in Siberia I dreamt of what it would be like to be back at the Ace, sampling their famous sausages and proudly swapping biking stories with like minded strangers, with the same passion for motorcycles. It seemed like half a world away, and for a time actually was!

If you really want to live the dream, I've proved that anyone can do it. You will find a way. You don't need much money, you don't need previous experience, and you don't need meticulous planning. If you really want to plan a trip, don't waste time thinking of all the things you might need, just think of all the things you don't need! As long as you have a familiar reliable bike, basic tools and spares and a good quality tent that doesn't leak, you'll be fine. Even if you can't read a map, like all other things, it's an opportunity to learn! The journey may take a little longer that's all. A compass never lies, if you don't leave the road, how lost can you get?

People approached me saying they haven't got the guts to ride across Siberia, and yet they've ridden across the Scottish Highlands. What's the difference? If the worst happens, you still have to rely on a complete stranger to help you, and a Glaswegian accent is no worse than Russian! My whole trip across America was a result of meeting strangers, who became friends, leading to an extraordinary chain of events from Seattle to New York. A far better journey than any I could've planned.

When you are in the remotest of places, people are far more likely to stop and help because everyone out there is in the same boat and need to support each other to survive. I never met anybody anywhere who didn't want to help me.

Large cities where people are jostling for space, causes competitiveness, so you will take longer to find help because everyone assumes someone less busy than them can help you. This is why you can't judge Russia by Moscow, America by New York, or people by what the have, it's what they do that matters.
Some of the kindest, happy and most interesting people I met own nothing. But they are full of life, proud of who they are, what they have and give all they have to help you. They have riches beyond most peoples comprehension.

I have no house, no wife and kids, no job, no car and no money, but I am privileged, and having sampled some of what the world has to offer, consider myself to be a very rich man indeed.

To everyone who came to meet me at the Ace Cafe, expressed an interest in the trip, enjoyed my blog and donated money to Farleigh Hospice, thankyou is not a big enough word to express my gratitude.

So what next? Well it's a case of 'ridden around this planet' so when NASA realises that motorcycles are much cheaper to send to Mars than cars, and I can pretend to be under 6ft and 10 stone, who knows?

I hope to plan a smaller trip in the near future to continue raising money for Farleigh Hospice with my two brothers. Imagine three huge blokes riding Honda c90s! Who said you can't have a laugh with no money? If anyone can help with a decent c90 or two, please let me know!

Poor Circulation Grand Finale - Ace Cafe Sunday 16th November 10.30 AM

2008-11-12T21:18:00.008Z

Ace Cafe London

Ace Corner

North Circular Road

Stonebridge

London

NW10 7UD

Tel: 020 8961 1000
GPS Coordinate N 51:32:26 (51.540455)

W 0:16:43 (-0.278664)
Ace Corner is the junction of Beresford Avenue and the old North Circular Road, between the A40 and the A404 (Harrow Road)

It feels a lifetime ago since we left the Ace cafe on 21st April, and strange to think we headed in one direction, East, and still ended up back where we started!

Sometimes I wonder if I actually rode all the way around the world, or if it just turned a full circle beneath me.

Settling back into 'normal' life is proving difficult, especially now I'm unemployed for the first time. Worst of all, because I gave up my job voluntarily, wasn't entitled to any Job Seekers Allowance, only receiving my first payment last week. The only way I can stay sane is by riding the bike, but that drinks almost as much petrol per mile as Geoff does coffee. So I took the first part-time job I could find, (a storeman in a shoe shop and no, they don't stock anything my size!) only to discover the JSA kindly give me £5, then take a pound for every one I earn over that amount. So I'm working for next to nothing and living on a budget of less than half of what I was on the trip!

Yesterday (Tuesday) Ongar Triumph kindly gave me a brand new Triumph Bonneville to play with while they fixed my oil leak. I made it look like a 125 but the further I rode, the more I enjoyed it. It's no sports bike, but the brakes and handling are good enough to have some fun on the B roads. Very smooth, easy to ride and the slickest gearchange on any bike I've ever ridden.

Very impressive, I didn't want to give it back! I'm already dreaming of riding one across the Rocky mountains....

My Tiger may not have as much 'street cred' as a Bonneville, but it does have an amazing engine. If I'm ever lucky enough to do another trip, I can't think of a better bike.

You never know whats around the next corner. But a motorcyclist knows taking the corner can be as much fun as finding out whats around it.

See you at the Ace!

An around the world Triumph.

2008-10-21T21:50:00.005+01:00

After spending a long weekend enjoying the scenery with friends in Wiltshire, I paid a visit to Ongar Motorcycles today (Tuesday) to order the necessary parts so I can fix my oil leak. Brian the mechanic showed me the warranty application he'd sent to Triumph after I left last Wednesday, because he thought it was worth a try. Triumph, like most companies, don't usually honour claims without proof of regular services, but after Brian had explained my unusual journey they immediately agreed.

Unfortunately, Brian showed me an email he received from someone I didn't know suggesting that Ongar Triumph had been unhelpful toward me. This person was only trying to help my case but really should've contacted me first to get the facts before dishonouring someones reputation. Triumph had already agreed because of Brian's help. I apologised for the trouble he got from his boss after receiving this email. None of us expected Triumph to do the work, especially me, but I'm very grateful to Brian and everyone else at Ongar Motorcycles for going out of their way to help me.

Please visit their new website to see the full range of Triumph Motorcycles.

www.ongar-motorcycles.co.uk/

I've often been asked why I chose a Triumph instead of the equivalent BMW. I'm a fan of BMW but always loved Triumphs. After careful research the Tiger 955i was better in almost every aspect except off-road ability. Everything taken into consideration, especially the cost, the carrying capacity, the handling and reliability, in my opinion the Tiger is one of the best all round bikes ever made. Any all round bike is a compromise and none are perfect, but for me the Tiger is a perfect compromise. A guy my size carrying a ridiculous amout of kit is testament to how tough the Tiger is. I doubt any other road bike would've survived! Besides, it's British don't you know. Why fly the flag when you can ride it?

The Hospice Outreach Project.

2008-10-17T11:56:00.008+01:00

Choosing a charity to support is a difficult decision. There are so many people in the world who aren't as fortunate as most of us. I have type 2 diabetes but I wanted to support people who need it most. I chose Farleigh Hospice because it's the sole provider of palliative care in Essex. Everyone knows somebody who has been affected by cancer or a life limiting illness. If there is no cure and the hospital can do no more, Farleigh Hospice continues to provide care free of charge, not only for the patients but also helping their families.

The HOP is a 7.5 ton vehicle, specially adapted from Farleigh Hospice.
It is air conditioned and heated for comfort.
The vehicle is 8.4 metres long and 3.9 metres high
When parked a special POD extends out of it to provide more internal room.
It takes 20 minutes to set up on arrival.
It will be visiting one location a day, 3 days a week.
It is estimated that the HOP will see 40 patients each day that it is out.
That means that it will visit 50 sites per year and see an estimated 6,000 patients in a year.
It is estimated that it will travel over 13,000 miles in a year around Braintree, Braintree District, Witham and Great Dunmow areas.

Extraordinary people who concentrate on life, not death. A philosophy I believe in.
This is possible only because of donations made by people who care. Most of the money raised by Farleigh comes from small donations. They need to raise £5000 each and every day to continue their vital services. A heartfelt thankyou to everyone who has donated to Farleigh Hospice.

If you wish to donate, you can do so through my just giving page until the 20th January 2009, www.justgiving.com/alankelly1
or please visit Farleigh website for information.
http://www.farleigh.org/about-farleigh-hospice.cfm
http://www.farleighhospice.org/farleigh-video.cfm

Count the garden by the flowers, never by the leaves that fall. Count your life with smiles and not the tears that roll. ~Author Unknown

The last 85 miles home.

2008-10-15T21:39:00.003+01:00

Finally after waiting three long weeks, my bike landed at Heathrow airport on Wednesday 15th October. It should've only taken five days but cargo flights are not as regular lately. It was due to arrive on the 29th September, but didn't leave New York until the 12th October, taking the scenic route via Frankfurt to East Midlands airport before Heathrow. I decided not to use a shipping agent to save money, so I've had all the fun of contacting Lufthansa and being transferred around until finally speaking to the cargo company, to find out where to collect it. After three offices, two piles of paperwork, a long wait and £221 for customs and handling, I'm reunited with my well-travelled Triumph. It was nice to see it strapped safely to an aircraft pallet and not tied with rope inside a cheap Korean crate as it was when it arrived in Seattle.

It's strange to find your bike in a place where you didn't leave it, especially when you last saw it in a different country. I soon reacquainted myself with all my belongings that were mostly where I left them. There are a few things missing but nothing of value. Customs had made a thorough search. I was relieved to hear it start, almost at first attempt and carefully rode to the nearest petrol station. At least I don't have to call it gas anymore.

It was a joy to be riding again, even weaving through miles of stationary traffic on the M25. Probably the worst road in th UK, but I know the difference between a bad road and one thats just busy! Being caught in traffic is just an inconvenience. I doubt I'll ever again ride on roads as bad as some in Albania and Russia, well not on a road bike anyway! I felt proud to be riding in England again, with a sense of achievement, knowing that the bike had made it home safely as well as me.

I stopped at my local Triumph dealer to ask about the oil leak. Caused by an oil seal on the clutch arm, costing a grand total of 85 pence. I couldn't see how any dirt had possibly got in there...

Not straighforward to fix though, because in order to remove the clutch cover, the starter motor and engine covers have to be removed first. Add another £21 for three gaskets. Triumph wont honour the warranty because my service book isn't fully stamped. It would be if they bothered to open a dealership in Siberia! The mechanic also kindly reminded me the bike is now due for it's 24000m service at a cost of £450. I have friends in Vladivostok that would help me service it for free. Looks like I picked to wrong year to give up my job....

The road really does go around the world. The road to our future.

2008-09-30T15:39:00.019+01:00

Many people doubted it could be done. Others said I was mad for even attempting it. I'll be honest and admit at times it was extremely difficult. Everyone doubts their own abilities, but you never know how strong you are until you have something to kick against. With perseverance, never being one to do things by half once I've committed myself, I completed an entire three course in-flight Aer Lingus meal! When you are hungry you'll eat anything.

I was surprised my wad of Dollars was enough for a coffee at the current exchange rate and in a state of shock, almost boarded a plane from Dublin to Scotland. The flight number was almost the same as mine, from the same gate, and looked close enough to my bleary eyes after no sleep all night.

I love the Irish accent, especially from a beautiful airline stewardess, and unlike most Americans, I can place accents to their countries, not that I'm bitter in any way at not being recognised as an Englishman across 19 States....

I think my luggage must have flown via Spain to Gatwick. It had obviously lost a bull fight, but there's nothing breakable, so I kicked it back into shape.

The sound of the London Estuary accent was the first sign of familiarity I'd had in a long time. It's strange how you long for something to remind you of home, even in America, it's still a foreign country with a foreign language. I had to learn to say things such as 'A Monneray Jack and oreggano toasted special foot-long with Swiss, no side and a tall double shot with a twist to go...' I had no idea what I was ordering but the staff were extremely friendly to the point of asking if I'd like it regular. A kind gesture but I had to move on, looking like a Scotsman carrying a caber and a bucket of coffee.

My brother Steve and my dad greeted me at Gatwick. I was in a dream-like state, still desperately trying to organise all the information and images, spanning five months, spinning in my mind like a spool of film and panicking, thinking I was being driven onto the wrong side of the road!

I feel lost without my bike. Due to the current worldwide economic state, there are less frequent cargo flights so I wont receive the bike until the 13th Oct. I don't think I'll really feel like I'm home until I'm riding it in no particular direction, with the sun on my back and a grin on my face and a view of the world you can only get by riding all the way around it.

I've seen some amazing man made things, awe inspiring natural scenery, met some wonderful friendly people, experiencing their lives and cultures, enriching mine. It makes no difference which country you live in, we are all the same. We all love our families, we all need food, water, shelter and friendship. Each new friend I've made represents a new magical world within me. I feel like I have buried treasure across the globe. It saddens me that countries are separated by politics, creating fear and making strangers of our neighbours.

"We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic cords of memory will swell when again touched as surely they will be by the better angels of our nature." ~Abraham Lincoln

New York, New York!

2008-09-30T09:54:00.007+01:00

I planned to visit the Wright-Patterson air force base, the largest air museum in the world near Dayton Ohio, where the Wright brothers first flew. But it was getting late so I stopped in Cambridge, not far from Norwich, and found a small Budget Inn at $35 a night, cost covered by the local police force! So many English town names over here! The bath was small, the water tepid and the decor circa 1960, but it was luxurious. I'd been averaging 350 mile days and covered 850 in the last two. It was one of the best cramped baths and softest of beds. Pitching the tent had become a little tedious lately!

One thing is certain in America, the coffee is always good and available everywhere, except for Budget Inns...
Early morning at a nearby gas station, a homeless guy admired my bike and my coffee. I couldn't offer him a lift to Kansas even if I wasn't carrying luggage, I was heading East. Everyone I meet in the US is so friendly I felt I had to return the favour and gave him my $17 change. A foreigner with a nice motorcycle often gives the impression of money, but it's everything I own. I don't have a house or a job either but I'm still better off than a lot of people. He hadn't eaten for two days.
It's been difficult to judge the time it takes to cover distances here, but I always plan to get ahead rather than fall behind, arriving in Potomac, Maryland a day early.

The ride across West Virginia into Maryland was beautiful, so many trees and noticeably fresher air over the mountains. My cousin Gillian was away for the weekend at her 50th school reunion, but her husband Alan (great name!) was the perfect host. I'd ridden 5000 miles since I last saw him in Seattle. Potomac is only a few miles from Washington DC but a world apart. A small village surrounded by trees and huge houses with two acres upwards. I relaxed outside watching his three horses, five deer and a fox wandering across the vast back yard!
Next day was a quiet Sunday in Washington DC, chauffeured by Alan who, having worked as a lawyer on Capitol Hill, knew everything about the city. There are no tall buildings as no building may be more than 20ft higher than the width of the street in front of it. Everywhere is spotlessly clean and many open spaces mean there are no crowds either. No neon signs or huge adverts for Coke or McDonalds. This is my kind of city! I had an obligatory pose for a photo outside the Whitehouse, not realising that the view we often see is actually the back of it, the front not quite so appealing.
Gillian arrived home late Sunday, so I didn't get to meet her until Monday afternoon when she returned from work. I'm lucky to have such a great family.
It was so nice to relax and have a couple of days off the bike, busying myself helping Alan scrape the loose paint from his shed and going for walks with the dog. I even got to see a Manchester United game in between all the political debates.

If it wasn't for the worsening oil leak, I had enough money left to stay in America another two or three weeks, but I need something to live on at home until I find a job, and I owe my dad for clearing my credit card bill for me!
So my flight was 9.40 PM Wednesday, and I'd planned to arrive in New York a day early to see the sights. I wasn't too keen on riding the bike across a busy city and decided to stay in Potomac another day, hoping to plan a proper visit to New York when I return someday.

I had a choice between Route 1 into Philadelphia, crossing several interesting towns, or Interstate 95, via the infamous New Jersey Turnpike. I had about 6 hours to cover 250 miles. Not knowing how long it would take on Route 1, chose the Interstate to make sure I had time to drop the bike at Valley Stream, Long Island. I smiled to myself when I saw a sign for New York. After 5 months of travelling I was actually going to make it! The Turnpike was reasonably quiet compared to the morning rush hour around DC, and I made it to Staten Island in good time. I was annoyed at being charged the same as cars across all the tolls, varying between $2 and $8, but they charge by the axle and I couldn't argue. Even if I could wheelie that far I still have two axles! A total of $24 in tolls, got me across Staten and Coney Island, where I could see the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building in the distance. I was running lower on fuel than I planned, due to the riding the high speed Interstate all day. I asked a guy how many miles left to JFK. He said 10 minutes. I needed to know exactly how many miles to work out the fuel because the bike needed to be almost empty for the flight home. I explained I needed to know the exact mileage. He told me it wouldn't be any more than 10 minutes. None the wiser I chose to put another gallon in the tank. The small busy streets around Valley Stream were a nightmare, especially as I arrived from a different junction than planned due to the fuel stop. As soon as I recognised a street name and got my bearings, I found the Berklay Building where I'd leave the bike. I disconnected the battery, sorted the luggage and left it in the capable hands of Greg. http://www.shipmybike.com/
The cost of flying the bike was around 20% higher than shipping, $1945 inc. customs and fuel surcharges etc. but only 1-2 weeks, opposed to 6-8 weeks in a container ship. I'd thought seriously about selling the bike to save money but if I don't get it home I'll feel like the trip wont be completed.
One of the guys offered a lift to JFK in a huge International truck. I had over 6 hours until my flight but I would be glad of the rest. Huge signs on the approach to the airport tell you which terminal the airlines fly from, in my case Aer Lingus, terminal 4. If you forget that, it's also colour coded, so we followed the blue lane to the blue terminal. Each terminal is like a small town with plenty to keep me occupied. A small chubby guy in a flat cap and over sized sunglasses was ordering a hot coffee. Could he have it hot? It must be hot, can't have it too hot. He kept repeating over and over until he got his coffee. He overheard me asking for a cappuccino.
"You're Russian, right?"
"No, English actually."
"But you have Russian relatives, right?"
"No, English."
"You must have grandparents who are Russian?"
"No, all English, from England, that's why I'm speaking with an English accent, I'm not Russian!"
"But you have such big hands!"
"Well, thanks for noticing but I don't think they're out or proportion..."
"Can you do this?" he asked, touching both earlobes with one hand.
"Er, no, not than I've ever..."
"I can! I'm an exception!"
"You certainly are! I believe my coffee is ready, nice to meet you." I shook his huge fat hand.
"Gardam! That's some mitt you have there! Have a nice flight!" He slapped me on the shoulder with his side of beef sized hand.
"Er thanks, I will!"

Wow, you're a real trooper! Er, thanks, so are you!

2008-09-29T11:31:00.005+01:00

I've tried to avoid American fast food and eat healthy as much as possible, very important on a long trip. I was warned to avoid truck stops but I was interested to see as much American culture as possible. I think there were a few 'cultures' growing in the corner of the restaurant and I was offered a booth or a table. I chose the booth because the mountainous truck drivers wouldn't fit in them. I sat fascinated buy several guys returning frequently with as much food as they could carry from the 'all you can eat' shrimp bar. I guessed it may be called 'all you can eat' because that's all there is on offer. I've seen some rotund gentlemen on my travels but when the light was blocked by a drifting marquee, that on closer inspection appeared to be a T-shirt with a 'Michelin man' inside, I thought it was about time this guy was taught the difference between 'want' and 'need.'
I managed to find a single quart of engine oil amongst all the essential accessories a truck driver needs, like a 'Colonel Bogey' horn, an LED Stars and Stripes, so everyone knows where you're from and a spare wheel arch covered in blue lights which I assume often gets used as a shoe horn to enter the vehicle. The bike had barely used any oil on the whole trip until the clutch arm leak, which is steadily getting worse. At this rate I should make it to New York but without knowing the exact cause of the problem, it's a bit of a worry.

Ohio looked quite interesting after the vast plains of Wyoming, Nebraska and Iowa. Indiana was very welcoming and friendly, and Ohio was no exception. Randy, a State Trooper from 'twenty minutes East' from this rest stop, offered to show me around the local station. I had some strange looks from passing motorists, not unusual for me but fraternising with police officer must be a rare sight. Especially when everyone wanted to join in for the photos.
"Alan Kelly, wow, you're a celebrity! I've got a sister in Manchester England. I'll have to remember your name for when you're on the TV! Good luck Alec!"

Riding close behind a police cruiser at 70mph, with a huge tailback of impatient drivers along the interstate for twenty minutes was a surreal experience, but I was enjoying every minute! Usually the motorcycle is in front of the police car!
Randy was a biker himself, racing a Suzuki gsx600 for fun, and a Honda Fireblade for the road. If I was in Ohio longer, he would take me to the track for a free day racing. Very tempting but I have to keep moving East. I met all the guys, including Lisa the secretary who was sure she saw me in Oregon along the coast. After an in-depth tour of the station, even the garage where the Dodge V8 engine proudly sat after generating the power during the recent storms, essential to recharge the rows of 'Tazers,' I was given an information pack usually given to schools, in case I ever have kids of my own. I hoped to meet someone in America but I don't think women are attracted to bikers, especially one that looks like he's been living rough for five months...
Randy asked if I'd eaten that day. It was 3.30pm and a restaurant was across the street. He stuffed some cash into my hand. It was $40! I couldn't accept, but he insisted saying he made good money as an officer. No-one will believe a motorcyclist chased a policeman along the highway and was given money from him at the station!
A great guy, indeed, you might say he's a super trooper. There, I said it.

Sometimes I wonder how I arrive in such a State

2008-09-26T14:48:00.004+01:00

The nights are drawing in and getting cold. Most of the State parks close at the end of September. At Glendo State park, Wyoming I had three sites to choose from and I was the only person there! Wyoming and Nebraska seemed larger then I expected, maybe due to the fact I'm feeling very tired and generally run down. After the excitement of Yellowstone and all the other amazing places, now I have to just keep riding and cover the miles to make it to New York. It's the first time I've actually needed to be somewhere for a long time. Many tempting motels invite me to sample their spas and luxurious pampering but luckily for me, there are many campsites along the Interstate highways. The KOA campsites in particular have everything a weary traveller needs, and at $17, perfect for my meagre budget.
Trevor and Elenor invited me over to their Behemoth RV for a couple of beers. They've been on the road for nine years, covering 49 States except North Dakota so far. Part of the 'Q-tip' brigade as they call it. Retired Americans often travel this time of year, after the summer rush and now the kids are back in school.
Strangely for me, I'm revered as an accomplished world wide traveller to most people I meet here, but to me I'm still inexperienced on my first trip!

I stopped for the obligatory free map at the first rest stop in Indiana, and was greeted by a tall man who asked me If I was 'Big Al' from England. He'd been admiring my bike, but as is often the case with Americans, they ask so many questions before I answer the first one, I don't really get a chance to explain myself. Another guy and his wife came over to me as I walked back to the bike.
'Are you Big Al? Hi, I'd like to officially welcome you to America!'
In the West, I was warned that I wouldn't find so much hospitality and friendly people as I travelled East. Most countries are wary of their neighbours, and America being so large, tends to be wary of different States. But from experience, if anything, they are just as friendly. Maybe everyone from the Mid-West onwards are judged by New York's reputation. My advice is, get to know people before making any judgement, a stranger is a potential friend you haven't met yet.

The Mississippi certainly is a 'Mighty' river, but not too inviting given it's dark brown appearance. As I walked around a small town thinking it was extremely busy and very well lit for daylight hours, I discovered I was actually inside a shop called Wal-Mart. I found it very difficult to shop for anything geared towards a single guy on a bike, mostly being offered multi pack items by the pound, quart or gallon. This explains why so many Americans drive huge trucks, they need them for the weekly groceries....

Historic Centerville, Indiana

2008-09-19T17:00:00.015+01:00

After Yellowstone I noticed oil splattered above the right footpeg. It's leaking from a loose clutch arm. And I was led to believe Triumph never leak oil! There's no damage or any reason I can see, it's just worked loose somehow. Not something I can fix on the road, even if I knew what the problem was, I haven't got the tools, gaskets or the money! Besides, the bike is still under warranty, so when I get home, Triumph will have to fix it! I check the oil level everyday and it doesn't seem to be getting worse, but I have no choice but to keep going. I decided to stay on Interstate 80, so if the worst happens, someone will be around to help me.
Even this plan had to change because of the aftermath of Hurricane Ike, the Interstate was closed due to flooding. I wanted to avoid Chicago anyway so a diversion South East to Interstate 70, wasn't too much of a problem. In fact, I've made such good progress riding 3-400 mile days, I've now got time to visit my Dad's cousin Gillian in Potomac near Washington DC. I hope to arrive there on Sunday.
Apart from the oil leak the bike has been faultless, it's a shame I have to keep one eye on it all the time, it spoils the journey, but as long as I keep the oil topped up it should be ok. I have about 1000 miles left to New York so it will be a great shame if the bike doesn't make it after riding over 18000 so far! My body is trying to tell me it's had enough. Everything aches, especially my back after straining to move such a heavy laden machine. At least it's a different part of my back this time! Got to keep going, at least the weather should be ok for the next few days, so I can grit my teeth and pray the bike doesn't break!

Bryce Canyon, Four Corners, Getting tyred, Yellowstone.

2008-09-19T17:00:00.013+01:00

Bryce canyon was simply beautiful. I spent a day there, even walking around some of the steep pathways enabling me to fully enjoy my personal lack of fitness. In Sunset point campsite I was greeted by the guy who runs the site, who told me of two Germans who stayed there four days ago. They matched the description of Hans and Volka, who I met in Russia, that would've been an amazing coincidence!
A quick stop at Four Corners Monument, then find some tyres!
You can't go far wrong with the roads around here, most are perfect for bikes, and the scenery is awe inspiring. I headed into Colorado with a view to get a rear tyre in Colorado Springs. I had to change my plan when over 10,000ft up the alpine passes, I noticed a bulge in the sidewall of my front tyre. At least riding a slower pace allowed me to see the view better. The Red mountains were amazing, and very cold at the summit! I stopped in Silverton for a break, then made my way to Montrose. I found a Bike dealership called Davis who specialised in Japanese bikes, who were only too pleased to supply me with two tyres. They were busy the next day, Saturday, which meant I would have to return Monday. This wasn't good news so I explained my trip and within the hour I had two Dunlops fitted with $98 off, sale price! The guys worked past closing time to help me out, again putting British dealers to shame!
The bike handles so much better without the Pirelli Scorpion front tyre from Russia. I still prefer the Michelin Anakees but the Dunlops are fine. I decided to wear them in by heading North to Yellowstone. My favorite place so far! A wolf ran into the road, and along the centreline towards me. After avoiding some buffalo earlier, and a moose I wasn't too surprised at avoiding animals that you would never see on the roads in the UK! Im met Jason Hart, a schoolteacher from Los Angeles, riding an old Hondo Goldwing 1100 painted in Army colours. We shared a campsite to save money and took a slow ride to see 'Old Faithful'. Walking around the Geysers was like a different planet! Jason was staying another night and I decided to get moving East in the morning, after he showed me how to toast marshmallows, and squash them between two sweet crackers with chocolate, known as S'mores.
I lay under the clear sky listening the the Moose whistling to themselves, I was not looking forward to heading East.
I wanted to stay in Yellowstone for a few days but as I've booked a flight home on the 23rd Sept, I need to do some serious mileage!

Public Library, Milford, Utah

2008-09-10T18:14:00.005+01:00

Oregon is without a doubt a bikers paradise. After 1500 miles of enjoying myself, I headed South along the coast to Coos Bay. I met Steve and Nicole from Switzerland, riding two BMW 650s who are riding down to Argentina. They have a detailed map on their Sat-Nav and convinced me to ride the forest roads with them to Crater Lake. I was planning to ride to the Redwoods and San Fransisco but this journey has taught me that it's not where you go that matters as much as who you meet on the way.
Crater lake is simply stunning, as were the roads leading to it. From there Steve and Nicole are heading into the desert, and I'm going South. I'm avoiding Interstate roads as much as possible because I want to experience America, not just ride across it.
I found an amazing road down to Yosemite, probably the best so far, and it got even better as I left the valley passing El Capitan, and crossed the park to stay at Tuolumne meadows.
Too much beautiful scenery to take in, I will have to come here again one day.

Time and money are running out so it's time to head East. Crossing Nevada in a day was some task, 400 miles to Lehman caves across the loneliest roads I've ever seen. Passing a car every 10 - 20 miles! Not recommended if your head isn't as straight as the road! The heaviest rain I've ever seen followed me across the valleys between the mountains, but I just managed to keep ahead of it. One thing about riding these roads instead of the Interstates is you can choose what speed you like, there's no one else there! You can rest assured at no point did I break the speed limit....of the bike. Fuel consumption is less than economical at higher speeds and out here you have to be careful. Gas stations are few and far between.

Last nights campsite on the mountainside was one of the best yet. Next to streams and a stunning view across Nevada and Utah. Rain started to fall just as I stepped off the bike. A soul stirring storm entertained me for the evening, making my pile of firewood difficult to light, but my souvenir Yosemite newsletter made good kindling!
Mitch, a Yamaha 1200 rider recommended a few biking roads with good campsites. You can't beat local knowledge. This area has some of the best stargazing sites in the world. I had to agree after seeing some of the night skies recently. Shame it's cloudy tonight.
Today (Wednesday) I hope to see Bryce Canyon, and find a quiet campsite somewhere along the way. Yosemite was still busy, I had the last spot available, no doubt Bryce will be the same.
Colorado looks good, as do so many other places, who knows where the road will take me next?
The USA has too much to see but I'll try to see as much as possible. I must find a rear tyre soon but that's minor details....I'm enjoying myself too much.

Old Boyz in the Hood

2008-09-01T01:32:00.005+01:00

Saturday proved to be one of the best bike rides I've ever had. Oregon is a beautiful state with perfect roads. The view from Hood mountain was as spectacular as the ride around it in Hood National Park.

Today was a different story. I wanted to write about another fantastic ride with my friend Stan Hellman but as we were returning we were plagued by a young guy trying to race us in his small Toyota. I slowed to let the idiot pass but after a mile we caught up to his steaming wreck, upside down in some brambles at the roadside. Stan called the emergencies while I ran to the car. I could hear the brambles cracking so I knew he was climbing out ok. I helped the blood soaked kid up and sat him down to calm him. Then I heard someone else in the car. The driver was trapped upside down by his seat belt. I couldn't reach him through the flattened door window. I tried to keep him calm but he was starting to panic. I had to get him out. I lay by the car and wriggled my shoulders inside. I could just reach the belt clip but his body weight was pulling down on it. I pushed as hard as I could splitting my thumb on the catch. He was free! He said he was ok to climb out. No bones seemed to be broken but he had a bad gash to the head. A car arrived with a man and wife who helped keep him calm until the ambulance arrived within 5 minutes. The medic said he had bad internal injuries and was dying. I left them to do their job. After Stan and I made statements we left cautiously. Stan was angry and I was upset at not being able to do anything to make sure he lives. I know he's in the best hands and I hope he survives.

Life is too precious to waste. Every day is a gift, that's why they call today the present day.

The lights are out, and he's off!

2008-08-31T02:07:00.008+01:00

I spent an extra day in Seattle trying to fix my bike. Triumph at Tacoma would gladly look at the bike for me but didn't have a much needed clutch cable. Luckily, out of all the Triumph dealers here, Cascade Moto Classics in Beaverton Oregon had one in stock. As it was nearly 200 miles away I thought it best to give the bike a good check over. After much fettling, I stumbled across the cure. I'm not sure exactly what I did but the engine light stayed out! Obviously a bad connection somewhere.

I could relax for a change and plan an early start to Beaverton. I tried to phone a few campsites to check availability, but all were too busy to even reply to my messages. Thats Labor day weekend for you. Everyone is driving their 'land yachts' towing a spare car, and slowing my pace. I wish they could see the benefits of riding a motorcycle without every single creature comfort known to man. Why do you need to take your house with you? I braved the mobile buildings heading South for nearly 200 miles and amazed myself by finding the Triumph dealer at my first attempt.

A clutch cable for $40 and while I was there, asked about some spark plugs. Rick the mechanic was snowed under but if I helped him would do it right away! I doubt my local Triumph dealer would do that for me...

I took the opportunity to fit the cable and a K&N air filter that had survived the journey with me. Two hours and another $100 and I was ready to go. The bike is running perfectly. I thanked the staff for helping me at such short notice, they were amazing people and hanging out at their dealership was like being home from home. I've been told it's the best Triumph dealer in the USA and I can believe it. Thanks again guys!

www.cascademoto.com

I planned to ride to Silver Falls campsite hoping that somewhere around that area I could find a spot in one of the many sites in that region. Then something unusual happened. I had a phone call waiting in the Cascade Moto Classics office. I remembered I'd posted a message on the Triumph RAT site explaining where I'd be in Oregon that day. Stan Hellman greeted me on the phone and offered to show me some great biking roads over the weekend if I wished to stay at his place. How could I refuse such generosity?

I had time to check out the Black Bear diner before Stan arrived on a silver Tiger 955, looking considerably cleaner than my road weary machine.

That evening I was whisked around Portland in Stan's Mazda MX5, designed for people under 6ft, and sampling the locally brewed beer.
Portland is a beautiful city, full of life and I would've missed it all if it wasn't for Stan. That's what's so great about traveling, where you go isn't as important as who you meet. The people make the places what they are, so you experience it rather than just seeing it.

Tomorrow, Saturday, I've been promised to ride biking roads unlike anything I've ever seen. I can't wait.

The lights are on and I'm far from home.

2008-08-28T19:26:00.004+01:00

I'm going to miss Port Townsend, especially the sourdough pizzas! Judging distances here takes some getting used to, everywhere is along way away but compared to Russia, not so far! It's good to be back on the road, even if it was only back to Seattle, but I promised to visit my cousin Alycia and her family. She'd booked a hotel for me which I stumbled upon accidentally, as the name had changed. There's too much information along the roads here, it's almost impossible not to look at all the neon signs, adverts and info along the way, as well as having to follow the road signs and scribbled directions on my tank bag in busy traffic. Totally different to riding in Russia.
Only a short run to Ballard to Alycia's house in a very nice area. We sat eating a traditional American dish, pizza. She has an amazing family and I'm glad to be related to such nice people.
Unfortunately my bike wasn't happy. The engine management light (or money light, mechanics tanning booth light etc.) refused to go out. It seems to run ok so I think it's a minor problem but I have to go to a Triumph dealer to be certain before crossing the US. There's one South of here in Tacoma and another one near Portland, Oregon so if it's nothing major, I can continue. The only problem I've had with the engine so far was occasionally running on 2 cylinders instead of 3. I attributed that to the poor petrol in Russia but I did it again twice here as well. Maybe a fuel injector problem caused by all the bad fuel, which will clear eventually or maybe that's why the engine light is on. It's a common problem with Triumphs to have this light stay on and usually nothing serious. I haven't touched any electrical components, so I know it's nothing I've caused which makes it harder to locate a problem.
I haven't budgeted for expensive repairs but if the worst happens I can sell the bike to get home. Not a choice I want to make, it's all I own.
The bike got me this far so I'm sure it can manage a few thousand miles more...

Captain Kelly

2008-08-22T02:54:00.008+01:00

David took me to the customs office on Friday to fill the necessary form and get the release form stamped. Then on to Mercers new warehouse to collect the bike. Everyone I speak to mentions Rodrigo, the Brazilian I met in Vladivostok who is in a hurry to get to New York. He had been constantly pestering everyone to get his bike quickly as if it was their duty to obey him. He was long gone with his bike when I arrived and so had Geoff, who I was hoping to meet. I'm glad he got his bike and I hope it started ok, it still has Russian petrol in it!
I was lucky because David had a trailer for my bike. This meant no $50 disposal fee for the crate and I could check the bike over at his house before riding it.
On the way back we stopped at Costco, the largest shopping warehouse I've ever seen! Everything you want as long as it's bulk size!

The bank decided to cheer me up by stopping my card again. Their explanation was that there is a big problem at the moment with ATM card fraud in the US. That maybe so but as I'm here in the US I'm going to need money. Again they assured me all will be fine, unless I decide to go to Canada, where I'd be better off having cash. But every time I make a large withdrawal my card gets stopped again. Also, not being a US resident with a zip code, my credit card is basically useless in most places, as their computer systems wont accept foreign cards. Frustrating to say the least!

Early Saturday we unpacked the bike. The crate was not a good one so will be firewood for David. It's a strange sight opening a crate and seeing your bike inside but I'm glad it made it here ok. No time to check it over properly because after all the rain recently, today finally is perfect sailing weather!
The outboard motor kept flooding with fuel so David went to get some more spark plugs, leaving me on the boat with his friend Steve. Before we got going, all the safety aspects were double checked, and once safely away from the ferries, I was shown how to steer, keeping the wind in the sails. Not easy at first but I soon got the feel for it. I've never been on a sailboat before and I can see why so many people do it. It's great fun, but I prefer my bike!

I don't hate ATMs anymore, I hate the bank!

2008-08-22T02:20:00.005+01:00

Cargozone, the Korean container company have been less than helpful. The ship had arrived late Friday night on the 15th. Luckily David knows how things work here and soon had all the information I needed via Hanjin shipping and Mercer distributors. All I needed was a bill for the amount owed to Cargozone for them to release the bike after customs had finished their checks. These checks took from Monday until Wednesday, then the container was moved to Mercer's warehouse in Fife where I can collect the bike on Thursday or Friday. One of these checks involved the USDA (Dept. of Agriculture) having to break open my crate to see what was inside. They are used to dealing with 'aloominum' crates and my crate was an insufficient wooden one made in Korea.
All I have to do is fill out a customs form in Seattle, pay Cargozone and collect the bike. Unfortunately Cargozone haven't yet sent me the bill. They assured me it would be no more than $100 but when they finally emailed me today, Thursday, it was $355 for handling and the USDA test. For some reason they wont accept a card payment which means I'll have to arrange a money order from the post office.
I withdrew $200 so I had enough cash in total to pay Cargozone, then decided to get some more to cover any more hidden costs from Mercer warehouse, but my visa didn't work.

I was well within my daily limit from an ATM but had to use all my mobile phone credit calling the UK 'helpline' because they don't have a freephone number like most places here in the USA do. They stopped my card for the same reason they stopped it in Russia. I was making large withdrawals. I again explained that not everyone accepts a card payment. All was restored and I had to wait 10 minutes before using it again. I waited longer but it still didn't work. An hour later still no luck. At least I had enough for the money order so went back with David to scan it and email it to Cargozone so they could sign the release form for the bike. I tried to add credit to my phone on my email account but unfortunately the system doesn't accept foreign issued cards without a USA postal code.
Once we returned to the post office to send the money order, a visit to Safeway to buy a phonecard and most importantly, locally brewed cold beer.
Cargozone meanwhile, have signed the release form thanking me for my business. I'm glad they appreciate my custom because it's never going to happen again. Tomorrow we head into Seattle to complete the custom form and collect the bike from Mercer's.
I really have missed my bike!

Planes and boats and....a bus

2008-08-22T01:42:00.005+01:00

Needless to say I didn't require an ongoing flight when I entered the USA, just my fingerprints and a photo. Different countries may have different rules but is it too hard for them to communicate? Once I found my baggage I phoned David Janos, an amazing guy I met in Dubrovnik. He was travelling Europe using public transport and hiking around any mountain range that was in the way. That's the 'proper' way to travel apparently.
I followed his instructions and got the bus downtown, then walked a short way to the ferry terminal. A huge ferry wafted me across to Bainbridge Island, giving me beautiful views of Seattle and the surrounding bay. David arrived to drive me to Port Townsend via a scenic route. Such an amazing place, but I promised not to tell anyone because the locals want to keep it that way!

David designed and built his own house, and soon showed me to my accommodation. A yacht in his garden! He is also a boat builder, (and a pilot!) and before I knew it, I was set up with a computer and WI FI in the boat. He's also a computer expert....

No sooner had I phoned the airline to refund my ticket, incredibly simple and fast, I had a confirmation email in less than a minute. Customer service in the USA really is second to none.
The cool evening was spent with a cold beer on David's sailboat. If the weather is ok this week, we can go sailing! Life really is rough here but I think I could get used to it.
I love America!

Seoul, Tokyo and onwards....?

2008-08-20T16:03:00.005+01:00

I had fun in Incheon airport due to the information on the internet being incorrect. There's always someone to ask and I was soon shuffling along queues and being herded into the departure lounge like human cattle. This is the first time I've been on a plane in 20 years! I was hoping the pilots had more training than the less than smooth local taxi and bus drivers.
I didn't expect much legroom so I wasn't disappointed when I didn't get any. Sitting behind the toilet wall and next to the galley was probably the worst seat on the plane but I was excited at moving on to another country.
Flying above the heavy rain over Seoul was a welcome change and by the time I'd identified most of the food precariously sliding around on my sloping table (my knees were too high...) I was looking down on the beautiful Japanese coastline. The weather was perfect and I guessed the huge volcano above the clouds must be mount Fuji, an awesome sight.

I had more fun at the check in desk at Tokyo airport. Apparently all Japanese tourists to the USA need an ongoing flight booked before entry otherwise they will be deported back to Japan. I said I'm British and this rule doesn't apply to me. They were adamant that this applied to everyone and told me to wait for a customs officer. Naturally I was less than impressed but the custom officer would not let me board the plane unless an onward ticket was purchased. I was lead across the airport to a United Airline desk where they assured me the ticket was fully refundable. It's all about numbers and I'm sure someone is making a profit from all these pre-booked tickets. It was getting close to boarding time and I was now at the back of the queue. Just to make me laugh even more I was chosen for a new type of search involving my bag and myself being searched and weighed so the airline can gauge an average weight of passengers. At least I was 18kg lighter! I soon relaxed into a large 'economy plus' reclining seat with almost enough legroom and a guy with a loud cough to keep me company for the next 9 hrs...

To begin any journey you must take the first step.

2008-08-13T04:44:00.006+01:00

Mike and Jo flew home yesterday after travelling for 12 months on their BMW they nicknamed 'The Elephant.' You can see photos of their amazing journey at http://www.horizonsunlimited.com/tstories/hannan/
I shall miss them and hope to see them in Australia one day.
Last night I had a meal with Wendy choi, the lady who arranged our bike shipments for us. She also wants to travel and asked me about Turkey as she heard it was a dangerous country. Istanbul excluded as I never went there, the rest of the country is very friendly. Any country you choose someone will tell you it's dangerous but usually they are not speaking from experience. Wendy is doubtful about her travelling abilities and feels 'safe' in her job, not knowing if she will ever have the courage to go. I felt the same before I left. Once a plan was laid out and more information gathered, the ball started to roll and here I am in Korea! You never know what tomorrow may bring, travelling or not. This is the hardest thing I've ever done but also the most rewarding because of it. I doubt I could be much further away from my 'comfort zone' and like I've said before, living a rich life has nothing to do with money or possessions, it's all about experiences.
A small boy in a shopping centre today got separated from his mother because he was too scared to step onto the escalator. I held out my hand and he took it, taking the first step with me and he was fine. Sometimes you just need a helping hand to take the first step.

Tomorrow I move back into the Namsan Guesthouse for my last night in Korea. It's a case of shuffling from one place to another trying to find a room as everywhere is fully booked.
Friday is the 60th anniversary of Liberation day and is a national holiday. I hope the bus to the airport is still running! I've enjoyed Korea very much but I'm looking forward to America. Naturally I'm nervous at the prospect of going alone but given the size of my feet I can take the first three steps in one go!

Trim in more ways than one

2008-08-12T04:03:00.005+01:00

I weighed myself today. I knew I'd lost some weight on my travels, but I was shocked. The combined weight of my backpack and bag is 18kg. Exactly the amount I've lost! When I left I was 120kg, now I'm a trim 102kg. Unbelievable! Maybe I should market the motorcycle travellers diet plan.
I finally found somewhere to get a haircut. Last night I wandered into the expensive Pacific Hotel to use their business centre to print my flight details. They were unaware I wasn't a guest and obliged. Given my attire, I'm surprised they let me enter in the first place. They have an in-house barber shop which I used the next day. Obviously I had to leave my two hairstylists at home through lack of room on the bike! When I wore a younger mans clothes, I would've been happy to use a trendy hair salon, but the styles they offer only seem to suit a full head of hair so I was glad to find a 'proper' gentleman's hairdresser.

I carefully lined up my dirty white trainers with the row of polished shoes outside of the spa entrance and was led to the barber. The view of the busy changing rooms in the mirror was a little disconcerting! I can't remember how long it's been since I had a cut-throat razor on my neck but he did an excellent job.

''Would Sir like it charged to your room?"
"Actually I prefer to pay cash thankyou!"
My trainers had been moved out of sight into a corner....

Making a meal out of a menu

2008-08-12T03:28:00.003+01:00

I've been learning my way around Seoul. It's a busy city and something interesting around every corner. It's a heatwave here, temperatures averaging in the mid 30s and very humid. Luckily everywhere is air conditioned, even the underground markets. Except for my place, the Green Guesthouse. The lady owner has specific rules that cater for the undiscerning landlady not the guest. Air conditioning only at night, set at 30C, so hardly worth using. Sleep on top of the bed, not on the bedsheets. Internet access for two hours only from 8 a.m. to 10 a.m. and 8 p.m. to 10 p.m. But only for 20mins at a time and only for email!

It's a clean house and she means well but she needs a few lessons in customer service if she wants a successful business. The Guy at the Namsan Guest house warned me she has strange rules and also told me I could stay there if I preferred as there was a cancellation last night. Great, I would prefer very much but unfortunately I had to pay up front at the Green Guest house. I wasn't happy about that but at the time there was nowhere else to stay.

I have one night back at Namsan on Thurs 14th before flying to Seattle friday morning.
2.5 hours to Tokyo, a 3 hour connection and 8.5 hours to Seattle where I arrive 9.30 a.m. 2 hours before I left Seoul!

In Dubrovnik an American guy called David pitched his tent next to mine. He told me to contact him when I get to the States. I emailed him this week and he has kindly offered to let me camp in his yard at Port Townsend, 2.5 hours North of Seattle. It's such a relief to have somewhere to stay after unsuccessfully searching for a cheap hostel or motel. Everywhere is booked up, probably with British holidaymakers!
All I have to do now is plan a cheap route to New York!

It's quite a nice change to have a few days to relax, see the sights, and having friends here to spend evenings with. One restaurant in particular, misled us with the price. Mike specifically asked the owner how many people a meal served, and was told 3. The price was reasonable so we had a nice barbecued steak. The owner demanded 3 times the price on the menu! We argued that he was wrong to advertise a meal at a price than tell us it's different. The police were called, not wanting to get involved and after Mike spoke to someone on the phone in English, who understood how the problem arose, we agreed to pay with what we had, about two-thirds of the money. An entertaining evening!

Maybe it is a small world after all

2008-08-11T04:27:00.004+01:00

It's very difficult finding anywhere cheap to stay at this time of year, but in Seoul we managed to book four days in the Namsan Guest house. Geoff will be leaving for a tour around Asia after two nights and I will be staying in Korea. Geoff almost convinced me to go to Hong Kong, even finding out flights etc. for me but to be honest, as a first time traveller, I really don't have the confidence to go there alone. If I survive the rest of this trip, then I think I will have the experience and confidence to travel further. Australia has always been somewhere I've wanted to go, so if I'm lucky enough to have an opportunity, I will see Hong Kong then.

Talking of Australia, I bumped into Mike and Jo, the Australian couple we'd met in Vladivostok. In a city the size of Seoul, this was an amazing coincidence. They had ridden around the coast, then shipped their BMW 1150 GS home, and in the meantime like me, were killing time here. They fly home Tuesday the 12th so that gives us plenty of time to have some beers first!

Geoff left early on Thursday the 7th. I was sad to see him leave but he was looking forward to travelling around Asia. I wish him well. He is braver than me and I look forward to hearing his adventures!

I hate ATMs....

2008-08-08T13:45:00.005+01:00

In Zarubino we met a Korean girl called Heaven, who told us not to use the high speed trains in Korea as they are cramped and expensive. The buses however, are cheap and excellent. So we took her advice and boarded a 'Limo' bus to Seoul. Reclining seats and air conditioning are a far cry from buses in England.
Neither of us had planned to visit Korea, so didn't know what to expect. The mountains and lush green valleys made for the most picturesque bus journey I've ever had. Not that I've had many...
Crowds of people camped by large fast flowing rocky rivers, and even some heavy showers didn't dampen their enthusiasm. After about a three hour journey, we hunted for a guide map at the bus terminal. No luck anywhere. An expensive hotel directed us to the local tourist hotel, which at this time, rapidly turning in to apartments. The Dong Seoul hotel was the only choice and reasonable, so we booked three nights, planning to stay in the Mapo-Gu area afterwards, near to where Wendy Choi's ferry office is. We could pay her for shipping the bikes to Seattle for us. She had taken care of everything from arranging the trucks, crating, and was the only person who offered us LCL (less than container load) whereas the Russians expected us to pay for a 20ft container.
Not all plans work out, we couldn't find a motel anywhere with a twin room in the Mapo-Gu area, all had double beds. I'm sure I'd be the luckiest guy alive if that did it for me but definitely not my idea of fun! So we went back to Dong Seoul hotel again. At least it has free use of their two computers so I can catch up on my blog while Geoff makes use of the free Wi FI.

Both of us unsuccessfully tried several ATMs, so I asked in a bank if I could use my card to withdraw cash. They said yes and changed their cashpoint to English for me but still no luck. They recommended a cashpoint underneath a huge electronics shopping plaza called Techno Mart. I got caught up in a noisy protest march surrounded my dozens of riot police. I had no idea what the protest was for, and they had no idea I was in a hurry to resolve my stressful predicament.
I tried one and no luck. I asked in the bank there and nobody could give me an answer. Eventually a security guard came out and directed me to a global cashpoint. Success! Foreign cards wont work in Korean ATMs. Now they tell me....
Ever since my card was stopped in the middle of Russia, I've been a tad apprehensive every time I have to use one.

The Seoul metro looks confusing but actually is very simple and very cheap. All the stations are numbered, so you only have to remember a number not a place name. About 50 pence a trip on a fast, modern air conditioned train. Much wider Trains and nicer than the old London underground! We had a wander around the Jongmyo Royal Ancestral Shrine, almost deafened by thousands of cicada beetles in the trees. They are everywhere in Korea but here must be their favorite spot, bless their little Seouls....

Dong Chun ferry to Sok Cho South Korea.

2008-08-06T07:30:00.006+01:00

Not much sleep last night. The noise vibrations of the ferry kept me awake, along with the worry of knowing I would ride alone across America after Geoff said he was keen to get to his brother in San Francisco. I miss my brothers also and no doubt I would do the same thing. I guessed at some point that we would ride separately on this trip so we can have our own adventures and sometimes in at the deep end is the quickest way to learn the ways of the world, all I need to do is regain my confidence and I'll be fine. After Russia maybe I have enough experience now, it's just a big step into the unknown for me. But then the whole trip has been and despite a few hiccups, everything always works out in the end.

I've heard many people say you must learn the difference between a tourist and a traveller, and I certainly have!

A beautiful day greets us in Sok Cho, and after the huge interest in my motorcycle jacket safety pad inserts by custom officers, we are allowed to unload the bikes into a warehouse. Dan phones Wendy Choi from the Dong Chun ferry office and within the hour our bikes are ridden onto pallets and loaded onto two small trucks. Dan was flying from Incheon airport and we were shipping ours out from Busan. A sad sight indeed, watching your pride and joy being driven away into the hands of others.

A German guy we saw leaving Zarubino on the ferry we missed, was still in customs. Germany never signed the 1949 international driving treaty so he had to return to Russia having no permission to drive in Korea. And we thought our planning was bad....

None of our mobile phones work on Korea as they use CDMA (Code Division Multiple Access) and not our GSM (Global System for Mobile) this was a surprise for us!

So if you want to contact me or Geoff please do so on the poocirculation@hotmail.co.uk email address, or you're welcome to leave messages on my blog!
Sok Cho is a beautiful city, especially if you like seafood! Dozens of restaurants with huge fish tanks along the streets, full of fish too lively for me! Some of them looked like we'd have to fight to see which one of us will be eaten!
A complete stranger sat at a table next to us outside a chicken restaurant in the stunningly lit streets. He offered us some of his honey chicken and a drink of his Soju, not quite as strong as some of the vodka we were accustomed to, but very nice.
I think I'm going to enjoy Korea!

Dosvidanya Russia!

2008-08-06T03:15:00.005+01:00

Alexander the 'Architect' arrived at 7a.m. Friday 25th to see us onto the ferry. Unfortunately Rodrigo arrived to see if his bike was loaded onto a truck and couldn't find the keys. I had to lock up and he was making us late. I gave the key to the 'Architect' and we had to leave on our own. Carving through the morning traffic was no fun but we made the ferry with 5 minutes to spare. We were first on followed by two huge custom cruiser bikes ridden by two local guys on their way to meet some American friends at Zarubino. We were welcome to follow them to the ferry as we didn't have a map for that road! The 'Architect' appeared on the ferry saying he wanted to see us off safely! Top bloke! He told us Rodrigo's keys were hanging on the bike mirror!

Everything was working out fine, the road was one of the best from Slavyanka to Zarubino and only about 30km not 60km like we'd been told. Beautiful scenery, mountains and tree lined valleys with rocky rivers and we found a very good cheap hotel!

On Saturday 26th I saw Hans and Volker appear on their BMWs. They had been held up by a strange misfortune. After riding all the way across Russia and the Amur highway, they were caught in a storm near Vladivostok and a tree fell onto Hans knocking him out. He was taken to hospital and was ok! His bike was fixed by local bikers and he knew how lucky he was! He showed me part of the tree embedded in his helmet!
We had to pay 200 rubles to allow entry to the docks at 1 .p.m. Then $100 customs tax then 460 rubles for the boarding pass. We already had a passenger ticket $220bought at the Dong Chun ferry office in Vladivostok but the bike had to be paid for upon arrival in Korea, another $300.
The custom lady approached us in the waiting lounge saying "Problem."
Although our visa's were valid for 90 days the bike declaration given us in Russian was only valid for two weeks! We were only doing what we were told to do in Sochi and couldn't understand why they only gave us two weeks for the bikes. We couldn't leave on this ferry and would have to return on Monday to pay a fine. We pleaded to find a resolution and were told to wait. The ferry was delayed for 4hrs so we had a chance. Naturally Rodrigo was first in line on his bike before the ferry had finished docking and was told to return.
We waited. Every half hour we checked with the customs office and the boarding office but no news. Hans and Volker bid us farewell and boarded the boat. we were more annoyed at having to leave them than miss a ferry, but on the plus side we wouldn't be with the Brazilian.
We waited. Still no news. 9.30 p.m. and the ferry doors closed. I didn't give up, pestering everyone for an answer. We were told to wait as things may change. 9.45 p.m. we had a definite answer, NYET!
It was no use as we watched the ferry leave without us. It was nearly dark so we hurried back to the hotel hoping we could get a room. Riding around the small bay was saw the ferry heading out to sea. Not a nice sight!
Two more days in Russia and the prospect of a fine and more paperwork on Monday.

Monday saw Dan from Romania arriving nursing a bad elbow. He was involved in an 'accident' after a man at the side of the road waved to him and he thought there was a problem with the road and jumped from his bike falling badly. His KTM 400 ex-army bike was ok but suffered radiator damage bouncing on the back of a lorry getting a lift into Vladivostok!
Three guys took three hours to process all the documents Monday afternoon, after we had to pay another 200 rubles to enter the docks again....
A fine of 1500 rubles and an explanation from the English speaking lady, Natasha, from the ticket office. We signed to say we broke customs law. Then again to say why we broke it (ignorance) then again to say there was no interpreter at Sochi. Then again to say this was all verbal with no recording equipment or cameras, It went on and on and I felt like a soap 'star' at a book signing. At least we knew we were on this ferry! The bikes had an entire car deck all to themselves and we marvelled at the beautiful coastline of Zarubino. After loading the bikes we had to return for customs. Then another problem. Natasha came to us saying there was a mistake on our bill of lading. GBR in Russia means Germany and it had to be changed to GRB! Does all this Russian paperwork ever end? Well, yes, after we walked through customs, unhindered by any recount of all our 'necessary' hotel registrations, Russia was behind us.
It's such a shame that the old Soviet rules still apply in so many places. It's as if they are too afraid to move on, or maybe set in their ways. All they need to do is make it easier for travellers and the whole world will see what wonderful people they are.

We had economy tickets so we slept on the floor with thin mattresses but as there wasn't many passengers, piled them three high!
Next stop Sok Cho, South Korea!

Go Vostok!

2008-08-05T09:09:00.006+01:00

Rodriguez, the Brazilian arrived with his broken Yamaha 250 on the back of a Vlad Moto truck. He was riding with a friend from Portugal to New York but had bike problems. We later discovered all the problems were caused by his arrogance. No tools, no maintenance and no idea meant his big end bearings had gone, the chain had snapped, his frame was snapped, and not before Mikail's patience also snapped. Rodriguez did nothing to help and expected everything to be done for him. He had a personal fixer who planned the whole trip ahead for him. Mikail asked him to remove the plastics and battery to ensure the bike was welded quickly. The Brazilian just left it all to them. Next morning Mikail arrived and let his frustration show.
"How can this guy ride around the world with no tools? He rode four days with a noisy engine until someone at a fuel station told him to put some oil in. He never lubed the chain and when I asked him to remove the battery and he said 'Bike has battery?!! I don't want to help this guy!" Well, we all laughed....
The next four days were spent trying to find a cheaper way to the USA. Problems with fumigated wood for the crates not being available in Russia, long shipping routes to Anchorage, crazy flight prices and crate sizes too small for the bikes and general uncertainty of extra charges. Japan was too complicated, needing the bikes to be registered and not having a Carnet meant Korea was the cheapest option. Mikail drew me a map of the ferry route from Vladivostok to Slavyenko, and road to Zarubino, where we could get a ferry to Sok Cho in South Korea. This meant we would also miss 200km of bad road. Sounds good to me.
Andrei, the club secretary, told me about the best day of the year in Vladivostok tomorrow, speedway! We had to go.
We changed our chains and sprockets, Geoff showing me how to split a chain and break the splitter, but one of the mechanics had one and removed my chain for me. Geoff fixed the new rivet link on for me doing a top job.
That evening Andrei chauffeured us and his wife Ulia to the stadium to watch Commander (team) Vostok against the Ukraine. A walkover, 60-30 to Vostok. An exiting night and Andrei was in his element, a huge fan.
A great day to end our stay in Russia, as tomorrow was our last day. Or so we thought....

Ussurisk Ride to work day celebrations

2008-08-05T03:21:00.005+01:00

Jima, the old mechanic at Vlad Moto, meticulously spent two hours carefully plastic welding my broken chain guard and making a template before cutting a piece of sheet metal and riveting the two pieces together. I was amazed at his skills, a true artist and proud of his work. The finished chain guard, much improved on the original, and finished off to the highest standard, at no charge! I only asked if they had something I could use to fix it myself!

Phil and Dot arrived in their camper van, proudly showing off his new alternator. Nearly two weeks wasted waiting for it and Phil was eager to move on. After he bought us shashlik and a coffee! So good to see him happy and we wished him a safe journey. I would miss them and hope to see them in Ramsgate when they return.
Mad Max and a few others rode to Ussurisk that evening, keen to party. We would leave in the morning, proudly following Mikail on his Honda VX 1800 with beautiful tiger paintwork.
We left with six bikes, with more joining on route. Mikail followed later after more 'business.'
Soon there were 18 bikes with many more overtaking. A fantastic feeling and as we entered Ussurisk, we joined a whole park full of bikes.
We were introduced to Danielle Murdoch from New Zealand, an architect riding a Honda 250 all the way to London. She had conquered Vietnam and Cambodia so Russia should be a breeze.

The convoy of bikes to the campsite was helped by the police holding the traffic and red lights were ignored. A fantastic sight to have bikes as far as you could see! Just to celebrate 'Ride to work day.' In total around 270 bikes piled into a forested area by a large river. Everywhere we went people offered food and vodka, an amazing experience.
Later that evening I asked Alexander 'The Architect' and second in command of the Iron Tigers to tell everyone about Geoff's accomplishment of a million biking miles in his lifetime. Geoff was dragged on stage and given a T-shirt and the obligatory bottle of vodka. I got a good photo of him being given 'respect' from the crowd! A great night was had by all.
Danielle left heading to Kabarovsk in the morning and onto Mongolia. Much braver than me and her entire kit weighed 16kg, less than my trainers! After the a sauna and dive into the cold river for Geoff, while I bravely watched, we followed Mikail back to Vlad Moto. That was until he was overtaken by a Suzuki Bandit 1200 and most of a Yamaha R1. I was ushered to follow them, going slightly faster than the speeds I rode the first time I entered Vladivostok. Well, double actually, about 20mph less than the bike was capable of and about 20mph more than I was capable of....

Another vodka? Yes, I'm afraid it is....

2008-08-04T14:41:00.003+01:00

Jacque and Mandy in a huge Toyota 4x4 arrived at the hotel. He was a South African living in Australia with a British passport. No I don't understand it either but they were heading in the same direction a s Phil and Dot, so Phil at least had someone to drive with. Providing his alternator arrives...
I headed off to look for another Aussie couple, Mike and Jo, riding a BMW GS 1100 who had left a note on my bike. Phil Joined me for a stroll so he could tell me his worries waiting for his alternator and being stuck in Vladivostok a long way from his family, without letting Dot know just how depressed he was. He had to put on a brave face to keep her spirits up. I was concerned about running out of money in the States as some of the shipping quotes we got were more than the bike was worth! We both knew everything would work out fine somehow and cheered each other up.
We said our farewells and rode to Vlad Moto. I didn't get much sleep as usual, choosing to sleep on the office floor giving Geoff some space upstairs. Very heavy rain all night and throughout the day, meant we had a damp bus ride back to the hotel to use their free WI FI! The quote for flights were ridiculous so we decided shipping the bikes was the way to go, we just had to find a company who would let us share a container, but that's not the Russian way of doing things. They have a set way, with no compromise and if you don't ask the rights questions, you won't get the answer you want. They don't give alternatives to their straight answers. For example, I asked Mikail if I could make him a coffee.
"No."
"Ok, no problem. Is there anything else I can get you?"
"I don't drink coffee in the afternoons, only in the morning."
"Ok, I understand, would you like me to get you something else to drink?"
"In the evenings I drink maybe, tea."
"Ok, would you like me to make you a cup of tea?''
"Yes."
Mike and Jo arrived to wash their bike the next morning, otherwise they would get charged $1000 for customs to clean it for them when entering Australia! We changed our brake pads and when Phil and Dot arrived in a taxi I went back to the hotel with them on the bus (about 25p) to use the hotel WI FI. Geoff sent a text message saying how enjoyable the Iron Tigers barbecue was....
They were celebrating a shipment of bikes arriving and were decidedly over refreshed with drink when I returned. I still had to help resolve the problem of the vodka bottle needing to be empty long after Geoff staggered upstairs. At least I slept well that night!

Coffee sir? Bear with me.

2008-08-04T14:10:00.006+01:00

We saw our first bear today before our morning coffee. Luckily for us it was in a cage outside a cafe. Not so lucky for the bear, but at least we felt safe. Safe until Geoff got a bit close taking a photo and it took a swipe at his leg....
Here's a travel tip. If you leave empty drinks cartons on the bike because there isn't a bin nearby, be prepared for a thousand ants hitching a ride!
The road to Vladivostok is a busy one, mainly because it's the only road! We made it to Ussurisk and luckily found a cheap hotel with secure parking in the town centre. A big guy working as a doorman for the cafe next door has a broken Honda Blackbird and would keep an eye on the bikes for us. Top bloke. In the morning I found a note on the bike from a local guy wanting to ride to Vladivostok with us, but he had to go to a bike meet that weekend. It must be a big meet judging by dozens of bike we saw riding in the opposite direction from us!
The last 30km into Vladivostok was a very busy dual carriageway leading straight into the town square. We had made it!
Typically all the hotels were expensive and as all the bikers had left town we had no luck finding the elusive Iron Tigers. No-one had heard of them except for a scrupulous taxi driver wanting 500 rubles....
The Hotel Vladivostok was our refuge for the next three nights in order to be registered. A fiat Ducato camper van sat in the car park and the next day we met Phil and Dorothy Spain, a lovely couple from Ramsgate on there way back home from the States via Russia, Mongolia and a few of the Stans. All they needed was an alternator from the UK. Their van had been raided and most of their stuff stolen and the alternator had mysteriously burnt out. All this happened on the boat from USA! To say Phil was in high spirits wouldn't be the truth....
Follow their amazing journey at http://www.wrinkliesontherun.com/ and feel free to donate to their charity!

I found the Iron Tiger's shop on the internet http://www.vladmoto.ru/ but no address. No-one knew where it was and it took three days for someone to answer the phone. That someone happened to be Mad Max, who swiftly turned up at the hotel on a souped up Honda Blackbird. His bike turned into a swift through the busy traffic as he led me to the shop. Geoff stayed behind to meet with Phil's Russian fixer to see if he could help us ship the bikes to Anchorage.
I met Mikail Shlushkin, the owner and leader of the Iron Tigers. All were busy doing 'business' and I was left to wander around for a while. I didn't feel welcome at all and was beginning to think it was a mistake to be there until Mikail finally came outside and welcomed me, saying they help all bikers and we were welcome to stay at there shop for as long as we liked for free!
Like I said before, you can get better than a Kwik Fit fitter....

Tarmac, tarmac, beautiful tarmac!! And a shower....

2008-08-03T11:01:00.005+01:00

The last 420km to Kabarovsk was a mixture of tarmac and gravel We never knew if it would last, but as we rode across a long bridge over the huge river into Khabarovsk, I knew the tarmac would stay. We made it!
The Hotel Turist wouldn't let us stay for two nights. If we stayed for three we would have to register. One night is fine but there is no rule for two nights so that is a problem.
One night it is then...

After a morning spent taking turns in an internet cafe, we decided to head towards Vladivostok. Two bikers shouted 'respect' and told us to look for the Iron Tigers in Vladivostok. A guy pulled up alongside me and shouted 'All the way from London? You Superman!' Well, I didn't like to argue...
The obligatory storm followed us, finally catching up when we got held up by a guy and his girlfriend, obviously enjoying some medicinal vodka. A few more people arrived, photos were taken but we needed to get going before we got soaked. Not many places to camp, so a track around a field had to do. We shared a spot with some spiders the size of golf balls, and settled down to watch a beautiful sunset over Northern China, about 20km away.

I'll never moan about the M25 again!

2008-08-03T10:05:00.004+01:00

Geoff was totally unaware of last nights frivolities with the bear. I needed some sleep almost as much as I needed breakfast. A few miles further along, our bad Russian caused the usual amusement for the cafe staff. We almost got what we ordered but they gave us a 'Russian Breakfast' sausage egg, and some fresh sweet pancakes at no extra charge. Very nice! As we were leaving a stranger approached and insisted we accept a gift of two pasta dinners and a tin of minced beef. All he wanted in return was a photo of the bikes. Everyday the Russian people amaze me with their open hearts. If only their roads were as nice!
Charlie from Australia stopped for a chat. All the bikers we meet seem to be going in the opposite direction....
He is on his way to London from Japan and told us the road is pretty bad from here on, maybe a full day of this crap, but gets worse for 100km or so, very bad unavoidable potholes, then sand. Ok, that Will be fun....

A large open area of gravel alongside a huge sign of the Amur Highway seemed a good place to camp but still no luck. A small chapel about 30 square feet was guarded by a stray dog. I had nothing for him but he let me inside anyway. I got down on my knees and thanked the Lord for getting us this far without crashing, or the bikes breaking. I prayed we would make it safely to the end of this highway and onto Vladivostok.

We pushed on, feeling very tired. This road really gives the bikes and your body a beating. A small side turning offered just enough cover not to be seen from the road. Perfect. As I fetched firewood I heard a car stop, then drive off. I saw a man in army camouflage picking through rubbish with his stick. We approached him, hand outstretched in friendship. He dropped his backpack and walked towards us. He said his ear is bad without a cigarette. Geoff obliged and once he saw we were not a threat, introduced himself as Alexander. Apparently there are bandits on this road...
He was born a Russian but since has been given a Khazakstan passport. In order for him to buy land in Russia he needs a Russian passport, even though he is Russian. The only way was for him to reach St. Petersburg, where he could get one, buy land and build a house with a vegetable garden. He is 60 years old an walking the width of Russia. He entertained us with travel stories, including one where he carried his bike 1500km before this road was built, and on one small part where he could actually ride it through some trees, went straight in between two brown bears. One of them he named the karate bear as it chased him knocking the trees down! His advice for us was to hang our socks near the tent so a bear will know it's not his territory. If we meet a Siberian Tiger we must wait until it moves before we can, unless it's already behind you. Top tips from a top bloke.
I asked him to stay with us but he wanted to reach the small chapel further along to sleep there. He remembers when it was the original border crossing.

Next day the road wasn't too bad, averaging 40-50mph. The oncoming convoys of Japanese cars who often take the best track along this road, were more dangerous than the surface. It was pure guesswork as to what side of you they would pass.

17 Korean Harley Davidsons appeared through the dust, they were going to Hamburg. Amazing guys riding totally inappropriate bikes for this road and I was worried about our Triumphs! I've never had so many photos taken of me!

Later we met Yoshi, a Japanese guy also on his way to Germany on an Africa twin, had ridden two days in the rain. His wide eyed gesticulating description of the oncoming potholes didn't fill me with confidence, but at least the sandy parts would be wet and not dusty. Everyday was bringing us closer to tarmac.....

Strange things happen when you travel.

2008-08-02T01:06:00.006+01:00

I tried to concentrate on the beautiful scenery of purple and yellow flowers amongst the long green grass and the few trees that hide us from the road at night. This stretch of road was quite bad. Geoff can stand on the pegs and seems to drift across the surface, whereas my height means I can only sit and wobble along, hanging on for dear life. I try to remember all the tips Geoff and Rick gave me, keep a loose grip on the bars so the front wheel can find it's own way across the gravel, on and off the throttle to keep the front under some sort of control but soon enough after many a scary moment, my arms are aching. I'm full of awe at how people can ride off road, it's a strange feeling having the bike moving around underneath you, threatening to throw you at any moment.

I was physically and mentally tired out. My emotions running wild, I was homesick and racked with guilt for annoying Geoff. How could I make it up to him when I was facing hundreds of miles of rough road slowing him up with my inexperience. It's tough when you know someone is better off without you. I thought of the encouraging texts I'd received from my brother Phil. 'Lean on the Lord and nothing will befall you.' I was brought up a Christian but never understood religion. Why are there so many? All religions seem to do is fight each other. It seemed to me that everyone needs something to believe in and simply picks a religion that suits their lifestyle or culture. Too many questions and not enough answers. My answer was to live a good clean life, trying to do good things, at least that way I knew I wasn't a bad man.

But I never became the man I though I was. Here I am, nearly forty years old, gave up a decent job, sold everything to get just enough money to ride a bike around the world, hoping to have something interesting to talk about to my kids if I'm ever lucky enough to have any. This really is a once in a lifetime experience for me, I own nothing except my bike, and I'm doing my best to wreck that in the middle of Siberia. I must be mad. I didn't even know who I was anymore. I had lost myself so what else was there to lose? I prayed like I'd never prayed before.

'Ok Lord, you win. I'm a beaten man, please help me to be the man you want me to be!'

The bike seemed to float for a moment and I felt as if I was being cradled in a hammock. What was happening to me? My tears flowed through the dust on my face. I could barely see the narrow wheel tracks in between the gravel. A voice spoke to me.

'Don't cry. I can show you the way my son, but I still need you to steer the bike!'

I desperately wiped my face trying to understand what was happening. I must be going insane. Could it really be God speaking to me or is my weakened mind playing tricks. The engine sounded like I needed to change up a gear but I didn't, I was riding 10mph faster! How could this be? From that moment I knew Geoff and I would both be safe, we wont crash and the bikes wont break. I can't explain how good it felt to be there at that moment. God had saved me from myself. How am I going to explain this to Geoff? Everyone is going to think I'm a nutter! Or maybe everyone thinks I am anyway. Maybe I'll tell him tomorrow.
Riding a motorcycle has often been compared to having a religious experience. I never expected to actually have one while riding my bike!

I saw Geoff having a moment in a deeper part of the gravel but he saved it. Just then my front wheel dug in at 30mph and I was out of control and going down. The bike dived to the left and suddenly accelerated straightening itself up. I was still on the bike and heading for the trees! I shut the throttle and came to a stop at the edge of the road. All I know is I didn't do anything to save that crash. Someone is looking after me.
One of the machines spreading this pleasant road surface beeped its horns for us to stop. Geoff climbed up to the driver and was given a rude air freshener. We were surrounded my workmen offering food and vodka! It's a shame to turn down their generosity but we have to ride the bikes!

Geoff found a beautiful meadow to camp. The steep slope and deep wheel rut meant Geoff had a bike to ground interface. Makes for a good photo though, I've done it myself three times so far. I was still grateful he rode mine for me through the water under a railway bridge and into the meadow. Wild red lillies and many colourful flowers made a stunning campsite.

I was woken by a loud roar. Geoff snored peacefully. I've heard a few strange noises in the night during this trip but this time it wasn't Geoff. The roaring got louder and closer. It could only be a bear! I thought it prudent to hide in the tent and not look. Closer and closer. I couldn't believe Geoff was still asleep. I would have to wake him, but the bear was very close, what should I do? I waited to see if the bear got any closer, it must be within 50ft of the tents. It sat there for a while grunting it's discontent at our presence. There was a large stick near the fire but could I find it in the dark? The last thing I wanted to do was fight a bear but if it came any closer I would have to do something to protect Geoff. I'm no hero but I have nothing to lose. I listened intently for the bears next move. Slowly, the roaring started moving away! Wow that was close! Maybe it got a whiff of our boots or maybe it thought Geoff was another bear snoring....

We were safe to ride again another day on the world's third most dangerous road.

I wanted to open my eyes to the world, not close them on myself

2008-07-30T02:43:00.005+01:00

As we prepared to leave the hotel in Chita, Geoff dropped a bombshell. He'd had enough of me and wanted to ride alone. I'd been no help to him and he was quite rightly fed up of carrying me. All I did was bring him down. He was right. He was always organised and I was a mess. Russia had been difficult for me, as were alot of aspects of travelling that I never expected to encounter, especially the most important one, finding out who you really are.
I'd been so worried about everything I'd lost all confidence and felt totally useless. The guilt of letting Geoff do everything and worrying, I didn't even realise how blinkered I'd become. I had no excuse, he was right, I never would've got this far without him and I was panicking. I really didn't want to take the train. The Amur highway may beat me but I have to try. Three crashes so far didn't help me but I was still here and the bike was ok.
Now that I was fully aware of the problems I was causing I could do something about it. I should be Geoff's backup on this trip, not get his back up! I was surprised he agreed to let me tag along if I promised to start pulling my weight. I had to change, get back to my old self. I knew I could and I promised to make the rest of the trip an enjoyable one. Why I couldn't do such a simple thing right from the start is a mystery to me. I was confident when we set off from England, but stupid enough to let things get on top of me, riding the bike was the easy bit....

We left Chita along 200km of scenic tarmac before the gravel started. This is where I would have to prove to myself that I could do this. The Triumph is big and heavy and not suited to off road at all. Just like myself! The first part wasn't too bad. I ridden on worse, slowly my confidence grows, maybe I could make it after all? I thought of all the other bikers riding across the highway, laughing at my ineptitude, but we all have to start somewhere and this road will either kill or cure me.

Ulan Ude - Chita

2008-07-22T06:48:00.006+01:00

One of the most difficult things about travelling, is parting company with new friends. Rick was off to the delta on the coast of Baikal, than from Ulan Ude into Mongolia. We said our farewells and sincerely hope to meet again. Rick really is a great guy with many interesting stories, and as he is even taller than me I wouldn't dare say any different!

The scenic road was actually quite good, so I could relax and cruise in the sunshine.

The Lonely Planet guided us to a less extortionate hotel than most in Ulan Ude, where a small bath doubled as our much needed laundry room! Passing lorries spew out so much smoke you can barely see them. This liberally coats us in black soot from the diesel fumes, so you can imagine the colour of the bath water!

The city is an interesting one, with a huge bust of Lenin dominating the town square. We tried a place named 'Happy Food' quite possibly the worst food on the trip so far. Cold chips and a stale roll, but this is normal in most places and we're getting used to it.

Next day, avoiding the thunderstorms that often surround us in the more mountainous regions, we climbed up to over 1000m. Not many secluded campsites to be found and it was getting late. I thought maybe we would descend back down the other side of the mountain and out of the low clouds, but we remained at this height for mile after mile hoping to find a motel. Only a cafe full of lorry drivers emerged from the darkness but nowhere to sleep. A good road surface in the dark was still dangerous, as you never know when it will turn into a bad one. We pressed on until Geoff found a spot almost out of sight by a road bridge.

I sheltered under the bridge as the rain started to fall. A small dry patch in between the concrete supports, away from the cow tracks and other unmentionables! Geoff slept in his Bivvi bag by the bikes. I was reasonably warm for a while, but the temperature soon dropped, so I curled up wearing my gloves and balaclava. I didn't sleep a wink and the passing lorries shaking the bridge didn't help, so that was a long night!

An early start meant the first three cafes were closed and the fourth had no eggs and our grasp of the Russian language hadn't gone much further than 'Yeht-so and khleb' (eggs and bread) but the fifth one did! Geoff wasn't in a good mood. I felt sorry for him having such a bad night. If I'd let him check out a possible campsite we saw before it got dark, instead of suggesting it maybe better down the other side of the mountain, we may have been sheltered in our tents. He wasn't enjoying himself and everything I tried wasn't helping.

We've tried to avoid hotels as much as possible but after last night we deserved one. Generally we try to find a 'Hotel Turist' as most cities have one, usually old badly renovated Soviet hotels but always fascinating to see. Chita was no exception, and like most Russian cities we got our bearings from the mandatory Lenin statue.

A simple shower felt so good and a soft bed was pure luxury! I sat eating a bag of mushroom soup flavour crisps, gladly watching a big thunderstorm from the shelter of a dry hotel, contemplating the Amur highway and a thousand miles of gravel 'road.' It can't be that bad can it? People ride across it all the time, including a guy called Richard Lindley in 2006 on a Triumph Tiger the same as ours. He crashed once or twice......

Come in number six, your time is up!

2008-07-21T03:59:00.004+01:00

We had a late start from Bolshoi Calais, saying farewells and crowds of photo opportunities, we felt like celebrities! Back in Irkutsk I couldn't get money from an ATM. Rick managed to but after another go I realised it was out of cash and found another one in a pharmacy which paid out. Good job I'm not the worrying type.....

The evening mist from the lake was making me cold for the first time in Russia, after expecting to be frozen at night time crossing Siberia, the weather has been excellent, too hot in fact during the afternoons. Two kids on a scooter stopped us. We gave them fuel, water and Geoff even gave them a cigarette, then off they went carrying a guitar with them.

Rick found a good spot to camp on the edge of Lake Baikal near to the railway. A few big puddles but I was ok following their lead until a railway sleeper hiding in a huge puddle didn't move out of the way of my front wheel! My third crash so far. Luckily I rolled across the pile of sleepers so only half of me got wet! A few scratches to the bike and an indicator retrieved by Geoff from the water while I squelched up and down with a boot full of cold water! Luckily Geoff remembered to take a picture before we dragged the bike up, and my bag proved to be waterproof but apparently I didn't look too jovial in the photo....

I sat by the fire on the beach with Rick late that night and he sensed I was fed up. I was annoyed with myself for crashing for the third time.
"Why don't you just let Russia into your heart?" he asked. I knew Russia wasn't the problem, it was me. The only thing keeping me going was Geoff and Rick, if they could do it, so can I! The ever helpful Russians were also a big help. Everyday they put a smile on my face, they are so full of life, nothings a problem or a worry and I wished I could see life through their eyes.
This trip has been a steep learning curve for me in many ways, but finding out things about yourself you don't like is never an easy lesson. I had a long way to go on these roads and even further in my mind to get back to myself. Something would break soon enough and I was fighting myself all the way. All I wanted was for us to enjoy this trip, why was I making it so difficult for myself? I was only riding a bike all day. Of all the problems I'd anticipated I'd overlooked the most important one, to enjoy it!

A text message from a friend cheered me up. I was raising money for charity and doing some good. I smiled to myself and started to laugh at the sight of me drying my soaking boot by the fire.

Why don't English people just dance?

2008-07-21T03:25:00.006+01:00

I found Rick asleep under a tree after I'd taken so long to catch up with him after leaving lake Baikal with Geoff patently following me. That was the toughest ride of my life and I was annoyed with myself for not being able to enjoy it like they could.
Rick wanted us to join him at Bolshoi Calais, an old Soviet holiday camp he had discovered 'couch surfing'. It was very hot in the busy traffic back in Irkutsk, and the road to the holiday site was very bad from my point of view, but I made it and got a strange sense of pleasure from riding successfully on such a bad road and was quite proud of myself! After much negotiating with the park security, Rick was let in to find the young English teacher 'Spike' at the 'Happy School'. Our room was dank but interesting. The whole site had changed little over the years and I was surprised the Soviets even had holiday parks. Maybe it was so they could keep an eye on the holidaymakers if they were all in the same place. Groups of mostly girls played volleyball, tennis, or had lessons of English, art or even mime. The whole place was overgrown and run down but nobody seemed to notice, they we just glad to be there. English had to be spoken at all times, a few songs such as YMCA, Robbie Williams or other joyful songs were sung.
An example from their guidebook was, "It is up to me to be happy, events or circumstances cannot change this" or, "My stomach may be hungry but I will eat when it is time to eat, I am not an eating machine" It seemed like brainwashing to me but they were all very happy and who am I to judge. Geoff entertained a crowd with travelling stories, explaining to one girl how impressed he was to see people dancing in a cafe in Volgograd, as the English need to get drunk before they dance as we are too self conscious. She replied, "Why don't English people just dance?"

Lake Baikal

2008-07-21T02:42:00.003+01:00

Amazingly, Geoff in his entire biking life clocked up one million miles on the way into Irkutsk! We were saving the celebrations for Lake Baikal. As we approached Baikal, Geoff overtook me punching the air. We'd clocked ten thousand miles so far! We were heading for the island of Olchon, recommended by many travellers, including two more Germans on BMWs, on their way back home. The road to the island via a free ferry was difficult for me and I was struggling on the gravel. By the time we reached the town the road was sandy and I was finding it impossible. I'd never been so scared riding a bike before and how I'd stayed on this long was a miracle. Geoff has some off road experience and Rick was a master, both giving me helpful tips. Finally it happened. A deep rut and my big foot caught under my pannier twisting my leg. I let go unceremoniously and posed for a photo!
Geoff helped me and the bike up, then searched for a campsite with Rick. A passing Russian walking his dog, said he was a biker and mimed a saxophone saying he had met President Clinton, but meeting me here, all the way from London was even more exciting for him!
Geoff returned, covered in mud after helping Rick out of the tundra, and rode my bike for me across the sand to a beautiful spot by the lake. I was tired, my knee hurt and I needed some sleep. I felt like a burden to Geoff and Rick who had spent all day riding at my slow pace when they could've gone twice as fast. If this is how the road would be, how would I cope? I had aggravated my old knee injury from my accident at 18 with the lorry and I was worried if I damaged it further the trip would be over for me. I tried to put on a brave face but I was in a lot of pain.
Next day my knee was much better after spending the day on the beach with the local cows, while Geoff and Rick rode to 'Nikitas' a famous traveller site with the second most beautiful view Geoff had ever seen.
I'd love to see it but my morale was getting steadily worse. I had been struggling since we left Volgograd, Geoff knew this and was doing everything he could to help, but I couldn't do anything to gain the confidence I needed, I wanted to help him but I felt useless and I still had the Amur highway to look forward to, voted the third most dangerous road in the world. I didn't want to be a burden to Geoff, not being able to ride off road, I wanted to be his backup as he has been for me. I must pick myself up, physically and mentally, I'd got this far....

Novosibirsk to Irkutsk

2008-07-21T01:30:00.006+01:00

Sincere apologies for such a break in my updates! Geoff has precedence with the internet to make sure the Riders Digest gets regular updates, and as he has a laptop, is able to get ahead with his blog. But now I have an opportunity, here goes!

On 20/6/08, after parting with the Polish guys, Barclays kindly stopped my debit card to protect me from someone making large withdrawals. I explained that ATMs are few and far between in the middle of Russia and would they kindly reinstate my card. Luckily for me, after lots of questions they agreed! I've been paranoid ever since but luckily it's been ok so far...

We met Fred and Asi from Switzerland in Novosibirsk, driving to Mongolia in their converted Toyota Hi-Lux. We met them again when we stopped to chat to Roland, a German cyclist on his was to China. We must all be mad! We camped together by a river, joined by swarms of small flies. In the morning, an old man living nearby insisted we entered his house. Russian houses are not the most attractive, but inside was so clean and tidy, a total contrast to outside. A retired sailor, with pictures of his entire life on the wall like a self portrait. Painted wooden floors, curtains for doors, a nice display cabinet with modern ornaments. Self sufficient with all he needs growing in the allotment outside, even cannabis amongst the rhubarb! Cannabis seems to grow wild by the roadside, so I'm not sure if he even realised it was there.

Once we passed Kansk, the road got very bad, as Klaus, another German cyclist has warned us. How I laughed as I rode into potholes, dust, gravel and multi-directional oncoming traffic....
This is where I would learn to ride off road for the first time, on a motorway!

A large new motel looked inviting, but only charged by the minute, not having a set price for a night. Further along, Rick from Germany, (they must be all riding across Russia!) stopped to see if we were ok when my chain guard decided the road was too difficult for it to stay attached. He was riding a BMW that he had built himself with 40ltr tank! He rode twice as fast as me, but I managed to stay on until we found a good spot in a field. The trees are fairly spread out making it difficult not to be seen from the road. We had a great night around a huge fire, even the bear in the distance didn't worry us......much!

Next day the roads improved but still bad in places. The first time we rode in the rain since France, as we entered Irkutsk. Rick needed a Mongolian visa so we agreed to stay with him three days. Hotels were expensive, but a friendly couple in a passing car led us to a cheap hotel, which we later discovered (during the night) was a brothel! Not much sleep but not much money for a better hotel either!
In Irkustk, an unremarkable city, the rain continued and the roads flooded. Rick was sent from one bank to another trying to transfer money to the Mongolian embassy as the wouldn't accept cash. At the fifth bank he lost his temper and amazingly the teller changed her tone and agreed the transfer saying it wasn't a problem. It's a strange system of 'NYET' after 'NYET' until you finally get a 'DA!' You just have to learn to ask the right questions as they don't give you alternatives, only straight answers. Particularly frustrating to a German, said Rick, as Germans don't have a sense of humour! The embassy, naturally was closed when we returned but after an argument they let him in and promised a visa within three days.

We found a pizza restaurant, and saw someone waving at us frantically. It was Fred and Asi! We assumed we may meet again but this was a strange coincidence. They invited us for dinner that evening at the 'Lancelot'

A busy internet cafe full of kids playing games, turned out to be a nightmare when Geoff realised later that his phone, camera and spare wallet had been stolen. But the owner basically said they're just kids and the paperwork from the police was not worth it.
On the plus side, my visa worked and the food in the King Arthur themed Lancelot was excellent.
The taxi/submarine returned us to the brothel, where we gladly checked out in the morning after sitting for coffee, with the two guys in black watching us who arrived yesterday with two Kalashnikovs....

In Russia you soon learn to take the rough with the smooth-especially the roads!

2008-06-25T07:45:00.003+01:00

Despite the ahem, motorways, we still made good time, trying our best to avoid the busy traffic in the towns, preferring the open roads. Not may bikers heading our way, but when we emerged from a typical roadside cafe, fully topped up with Borscht, there were five bikers from Poland outside admiring our unusual choice of bike. Their names are in my notebook at the hotel, so I'll update when I get another chance. They were on a six week trip to Mongolia and their bikes were just as overloaded as ours, one guy even riding a Honda NTV road bike. Brave or nutter often follows the word 'biker'.

We always stop when we see a cyclist/nutter in case they need water etc. Brian was from California via London, Europe, Russia to Hong Kong. He was glad to have two English people to talk to for a change. These roads are not the easiest by any means but a bicycle really puts us to shame! Brian was hoping when he returned home 'That Arsehole Bush' would be gone. I was proud to meet a guy who was on first name terms with the president.

The Polish guys soon caught up with us, forcing our slightly pedestrian pace well above our 'economy mode' but I really enjoy riding in a group. They stopped at a huge sign which I guessed said 'Asia' and wanted to film us entering Asia with them, but not until one guy who rode a Yamaha XT600 with no battery, had a Mohican haircut to match his friend who had one the previous day under the influence of Vodka! They invited us to camp with them, and ride together as far as Novosibirsk where they would then head South into Mongolia.
That night around a large fire, two bottles of Vodka and the Raki from Albania was consumed by all. I made a big mistake of not drinking any Pepsi with it, instantly rendering me less than capable of just about anything! I fell into my tent, bending a pole. I must clarify this was an aluminium tent pole and not one of our new friends! Thus followed an unsavoury mess outside the tent during an uncomfortable night.

The Russian police have a zero tolerance alcohol limit, so a very late start and a litre of water, before a short ride to a cafe and five eggs each. We soon learn to eat anything that's available, and was a welcome break to the usual Borscht as until now, hadn't learnt the word for eggs.
One of the best things we learnt from the guys was the word 'Dopelner' allowing us to fill the bikes with fuel instead of guessing how many litres we can fit in. In Russia you pay first then fill.
Although riding long, fast days, often in temperatures well above 30 degrees, it was relaxing knowing they would navigate all day and find a suitable campsite.
After three fantastic nights we reached Novosibirsk well ahead of schedule. It's always great meeting new friends, and bikers often are the best friends to have, so having to part company is something you have to accept when you travel. Who knows who you will meet the following day?
The guys wanted us to ride to the border with them, but it was an extra two days ride for us and not in our direction. It's a shame we couldn't get a multiple entry visa or we would've gone with them.
Novosibirsk was very busy and another large thunderstorm that often finds us in the evenings, forced us to shelter in a bad motel without electricity due to the storm.
Russian beds are a challenge for me as most are only six feet long, and they seem to love huge square pillows!
This is where we have been told, that the 'roads' get worse the further East you go. But as the Russians love to say 'Don't worry, everything is ok.'
It's all good fun....

Anyone who says it's a small world, hasn't ridden a bike across Russia!

2008-06-24T09:25:00.009+01:00

We spent most of the day in Trabzon just waiting around and being led from one place to another getting forms filled and stamped. Eventually squeezing the bikes onto the Princess Victoria ferry, in between several tonnes on tomatoes! The 12 hour crossing was made interesting by the few passengers. Some Iranians, very excitable and friendly, never left us alone. Especially the women who love tall men! Giya from Georgia, a chess and draughts champion for the last 8 years in a row, spoke 22 languages, had written 150 books, mainly about religious history, was his local town's 'Mr. Intellect' and was a karate expert. I didn't argue, feeling insignificant next to him! He gave us $100 for the Hospices! An amazing guy.
After 7 hours on customs, (they couldn't read the English translation of the forms and we couldn't fill in the Russian one) we finally entered Russia. Sochi is an amazing place. We found the cheapest hotel to get our visas registered. The Hotel 'Moscow' an old communist hotel that gave you a feeling of being watched over your shoulder! Luckily for us, the Iranians were also there to keep us company at every opportunity they got....

The route to Rostov was a nightmare. Stopped by the police on two consecutive days, with any excuse they could think of for a bribe. This made us want to get the train and get out of Russia a soon as possible. Once we reached Volgograd, the people were very friendly and helpful, telling us the police would be no problem from now on, we just happened to pick the route all the tourists take to Sochi. Once settled into the hotel 'Tourist' an equally bad but cheap communist style similar to the hotel 'Moscow' we could start the search for tyres.
An English teacher who gave tours of the war memorials and 'Mother Russia' statue had shown us on our cheap tourist map where we could find a motorcycle shop. A tent on a bowling alley car park was closed but had a handful of Japanese bikes inside. We left a note explaining our tyre problem while a nearby cafe was overrun by security guards after an old man had a slight disagreement with the owner. We decided it would be prudent to stay out of trouble....

Next day at the bike tent a young man who spoke no English made a few phone calls. Minutes later a silver Landrover with blacked out windows screeched to a halt, a stocky man with a bad back emerged, introduced himself as Roman, and whisked us off to his office. A quick and fruitless search on the internet, explaining that the front tyre was unavailable in Volgograd. Another young man arrived, Slava, who said after dinner we will look for tyres. Off to a local strip bar, which served as a restaurant during the day!
The pace quickened through the traffic to a tyre shop where we could get cheap Taiwanese enduro tyes within 3 days. No problem. But not good enough for the Russians who wanted us to have the best possible. Back to the office to arrange collection of two Metzeler rear tyres and two Pirelli fronts, buy Roman's family in Moscow which would arrive in Volgograd in two days. Then off to a traditional Russian restaurant 'Tralli Walli' for a huge meal, vodka and entertainment by cossack singers, then a lift back to the hotel with a promise of a tour of the city and a ride on Slava's speedboat along the Volga tomorrow. I can't remember getting that kind of service last time I bought tyres.....I guess you can get better than a Kwik fit fitter!!
I was sad to leave Volgograd and our new friends, but once the tyres were fitted in Roman's new workshop, we had the urge to get some mileage done.

I woke up ill, grumpy and irritable, but that's enough about my ex-girlfriends....

2008-05-31T18:40:00.003+01:00

We hoped to reach Samsun in a day, probably around 200km on the map. Unfortunately the coast road isn't as straight as on the map, literally following the coast in and out of bays and inlets and rising up the 700ft steep cliffs. All very nice except for the bad road surface, sometimes dusty gravel and very bumpy. Not any campsites to speak of so we followed the route laid out by Volcan and Ozzy to Amasra.. Popular with tourists but like everywhere this time of year, quiet. Not much choice but to find a cheap hotel (about £15 each) and a hot shower!
Everyone we ask estimates anything from two hours to Trabzon or four days!

At least the road improved, if not the petrol prices, the most expensive in the world here! Still no sign of Samson after a very tiring ride, and a close call with a taxi that didnt stop at a slip road and passed right between us, death by taxis perhaps? I found a suitable field and gingerly rode the bike through a narrow gap between some trees. The track was about 2ft wide but as I passed through, the left side caved into a 3ft deep hole, throwing me into a stylish judo roll over the bars! Was I laughing? Well no but I was unhurt and the only damage to the bike was a small bend in the crashbars. I was more than ready for a kip after we dragged the bike out, so I laid on my poncho and soaked up the cold dank night.
Every single night since I can remember, dogs have been the bane of this trip. They are running loose everywhere from Croatia onwards, and last night several packs were around as usual. Along with spiders crawling over my face, an owl and many other unidentified creatures around, niether of us slept at all!
I think we left for Samsum at around 6.30 after having no problem getting up early! At least the road left the coast for a while and gave us a chance to make up some time. Until the local traffic police decided that 110kph was a tad over the 70kph limit. As there are no signs, so that seemed to us a comfortable speed on a long empty dual carriageway. A few excuses later, we convinced the three officers we we raising money for cancer charities, 'Chernobyl' as they called it, worked for the BBC, gave them a Riders Digest mag and posed for photos! I like Turkey a lot.

Samsun came and went at a more sedate speed but I was feeling very ill, especially after stopping a a Turkish 'greasy spoon' cafe, where the unidentifiable cubes of meat and potatoes floated on an inch of grease! I had no appettite and felt rough but I made it to Ordu where we decided another cheap hotel would give us some rest. I've never been so tired or felt so ill on a bike. Annoying as I've been meticulous about what I eat and drink.

Trabzon is around another 200km so we will be a day late into Russia if they let us in!
I hope I feel better in the morning!

Bulgaria (technically!) and Turkey into Asia.

2008-05-28T08:26:00.009+01:00

We stayed two nights at Santa Rosa beach cafe near Alexandropoli to rest our aching bikes as they needed a rest. Obviously we were fine! This was the only site open as we are too early for the camping season, except for a huge Municipal campsite nearby, but that was too reminiscent of a deserted campsite from the previous night that was so spooky we chose to camp on the beach outside a friendly Taverna, where we could buy cold beer and listen to local music that sounded like a small Sitar, or as İ called it, a 'Baby Sitar'.
There was a few strange goings on in the deserted Fanari campsite and we chose not to speculate, as this only made it seem stranger by the minute. Full of empty caravans, some still had dirty washing up in the sinks, and beer ın the fridge! Your guess is as good as mine!

We had another interesting shopping experience at the local Lidl supermarket. We'd bought liquid yoghurt instead of milk and a sesame seed cake that looked like marble cake. This was added to the pizza yeast we'd bought in İtaly instead of butter!
Geoff went to town looking for the elusive internet cafe while İ had a relaxing day strolling the beach. The sea looked inviting for a swim until İ noticed thousands of gallons of brown water being pumped into the bay from a building site, leaving a long stretch of brown seawater along the coast. İ'll save the paddle for later then! Over a pork kebab that evening we decided to nip into Bulgaria as it was not too far out of the way. Little did we know that all roads North were dead ends, leading to houses or farms. Eventually we asked a man at a small town shop, who lead us to an official looking building, where from behind a large desk, perhaps the town mayor or government official sat us on a huge soft black sofa. He drew a map, explaining that although we were 5km from the border it is closed and no access. A few locals walked across there illegally but we were not to. Naturally we had to take a look!

The road wasn't too bad once the farmyard was negotiated, but after a mile or so turned to dusty gravel. Well, we'd ridden this far so carried on. The gravel turned to a narrow twisty farm track suitable for tractors but we were 'confident' if not graceful! 10km later we spotted a row of white stones marking the border with Bulgaria. There was some razor wire left in the bushes and the track heading into Bulgaria had been blocked by soil for some time. A small shack had been built by someone who must cross there regularly on foot. We took photos and İ received a text message from M-Tel welcoming me to Bulgaria. That was good enough for us, and ticked off another country. Probably the only two English guys to cross there, and definitely on English bikes! The second country we've visited and not spent a penny! The road carried on but was impassable giving us no choice but to return South back into Greece to find the nearest border with Turkey.
The main road made my bike feel as smooth as a magic carpet after the farm tracks! Geoff got stung for about the ninth time, but on the plus side, I hadn't. With the exception of getting stung for 'tax' by the Albanian border guard, no bites or stings at all for me! Mind you, Geoff did get some revenge when he stopped at some traffic lights, coughing after swallowing a small fly! Most people must think he's a nutter, doing his best impression of breakdancing on a bike in front of the Kosovan police while being stung seven times by a wasp, and coughing his lungs up at the lights in front of bewildered bus passengers who obviously couldn't hear him cough, just convulsing while eating their local wildlife. He's not a nutter, he's British don't you know, and a good laugh, from my point of view anyway!

Well we didn't need a Carnet for Turkey, just a three month visa and 15 Euros and insurance for 5 Euros. That's at bit cheaper than Macedonia at 50 Euros! Especially as we rode straight through in a few hours! İmmediately the warmth of the Turkish people equalled the warmth of the sun. The Greeks were fine but after experiencing the over friendly Albanians, they obviously prefer to mind their own business. İn Turkey we were back amongst people who waved and tooted horns wherever we went. İ was still smiling at the Turkish border guard who called me Alan Ambramovitch, because İ should support Chelsea and not Manchester United! We were happy to pronounce Manchester United as European Champions, forgetting the history between Galatsaray and United, so were not met with the same amount of glee.

Passing hundreds of rice fields and old Renault 12s, we stopped for fuel where Geoff gave biscuits to some children in a neighbouring field while İ watched the pump attendants sit smoking at the pumps! The road South avoiding İstanbul looked a good choice, especially when we saw it went all the way to Gallipoli. The town was a poor area but kept alive by the ferry to Lapseki, which we chose to cross on our way back from the war graves in the morning.
We grabbed a local map of the graves and set off after giving badges to three kids who insisted we listen to their prowess at naming football stars, some of which we actually knew, and chatted to a guy from Hackney who had returned for compulsory 1yr military service. Estuary English is taking over the world

The narrow one way road climbed steep up to the many war graves and unfortunately was a tad congested with about 100 coaches! We walked along the Australian gravestones reading the loving memorials, saw the trenches, then onto the Turkish ones before getting caught in between all the coaches making their way back down. İ'd never been so hot on a bike in my life, then İ felt a tap on my shoulder from a heavily armed guard, luckily very friendly, who directed me alongside the coaches and into the cool breeze back down the steep hills, where we found the Hotel Kum campsite. Good enough for two tired bikers, especially when the on-site restaurant sparked up the barby for probably the best food İ've ever had, except for Boot steak and ale pie in the Lake District, but that's pie obviously! We were even treated to a fabulous sunset, and watched a pond full of ferocious terrapins make a meal out of the local bread which is excellent.
Why this is off season for camping İ don't know, surely 36 degrees is hot enough?

Next morning we just caught the 11.a.m ferry from Gallipoli after Geoff found free internet access in town after İ noticed a few laptops being used there the previous day. The metal ferry floor was cambered, offering us more fun than we could handle, getting two heavy bikes onto centre stands! Osgood, a young man learning English chatted to us while we drank more Nescrappe' who seem to have the monopoly on coffee all the way from Croatia Eastwards. Which begs the question, why is there only one Monopolies commission? Osgood asked the difference between 'İ am going' 'İ have gone' and 'İ have been.' İt seems many foreigners learning English have problems with he over complicated 'past' 'present' and 'future' aspect of the language, but usually end up speaking better English than most of us!
Geoff and İ had a congratual handshake at entering Asia and headed for the nearest large town for some 'interaction' with some locals.

Biga was the next destination, simply because it's there and full of people to interact with. After riding a little further into town a man riding a Yamaha Virago stopped alongside me, shook my hand saying 'Welcome, welcome' told Geoff to follow him, and we parked in the shade next to a few bikes. Before we could be introduced to everyone, chai was served.
Teyfo owned the sports shop opposite, selling mainly Converse trainers. None in size 13, and apparently more expensive than London. He proudly showed me the hand stitched saddlebag and sissy bar cover made for him by a friend for his Virago. Volcan and Ozzy, two up on a fully luggaged yellow Suzuki GS500 had seen us earlier in town and had sent Teyfo to 'rescue us' as we looked lost! Ozzy spoke excellent English as he has a kebab shop in Ulfracome, not Ilfracome Devon. Then Ayhen, the proud owner of an old two stroke chopper, a Chinese copy of a Jawa 350 İ believe, gave us a bullet necklace each from Canakkale/Geçilmez, then grabbed a Lura, similar to a Lute but with a longer neck, from Teyfo who had been singing to us a traditional song, but was drawn away buy a customer in his shop. Ayhen played a while then gave us his best rendition of 'Knocking on heavens door' on a guitar. We had our fourth chai and Tost, a folded pizza, fantastic! We also met Savaş Dursun, the owner of İsmet Oto garage, who promised us a good price on new Michelin Anakees for the Tigers.

Teyfo, Volcan and Ozzy took us to the garage but the price of tyres, and everything else in Turkey is more expensive than England. But at least we get more chai for our trouble! Volcan needed chain lube from a nearby industrial estate, and Teyfo took the opportunity to disappear with Geoff on his Virago to look at an old Simpson bike he was interested in buying. Also showing him a secret place but that's Geoff's secret! Volcan and Ozzy had to get back to a town near İstanbul, but decided instead to show us a good beach for a swim and help us find a campsite.

The warm sea at Erdeck was the calmest yet, more like a lake, and the dozens of jellyfish didn't sting, which was nice. Off to the Albatross bar for a frosted pint, then Volcan rushed off to pick up Ayhen who was on his way to us bringing Geoff's notepad that he'd left at the tyre garage, but his bike was kaput! When they arrived, it was off to a good kebab shop for some proper local meat dishes washed down with fresh yoghurt drink. Ayhen decided to stay at the Albatross bar for a day or two, to get his bike fixed. Possibly a magneto problem and not something we could fix for him.
Volcan and Ozzy roared off along the coast considerably faster than the national speed limit, which luckily for us, was still a mystery, so our ignorance gave no problems or guilt keeping up. Except for melting tarmac, bumpy pebble dashed roads and glare from the sun, it was quite a ride for me as İ don't normally ride faster than İ can see. Campsites here are few and far between, not normally a problem for us except at this time of year, all closed. Two local old boys jumped on their yellow scooter to show us a good spot overlooking Marmara İsland, saying it's the driest İsland in the world and something to do with marble was all İ could gather as my Turkish is less than fluent. Geoff jumped on the back of the scooter to be shown an alternate spot on the beach which was perfect and already had two tents there. Ozzy bid us farewell while we waited for Volcan to pray at sunset, then we waved them off on their 300km ride in the dark to İstanbul.

The two tents on the beach were owned by two brothers who arrived four days ago on a small boat. One raked the sand for our tents while the other made chai. We sat under a solar lamp hung in a tree drinking chai, watching the sun set over the sea of Marmara. İt's a hard life this rough camping, but one we are becoming seasoned to! We heard what we guessed were dolphins breathing in the bay, and could just see them breaking the surface in the darkness. What a day!

İt's a long way to the Black Sea from here, so we left at 6a.m. following a scenic route laid out by Ozzy, alongside a 30km long lake, where we stopped for our first bad coffee of the trip so far. More Nescrappe' with powdered milk in fact. This region is similar to Northern İtaly, surprisingly mountainous and full of tiny tractors with wives and children precariously perched on the mudguards. We often see the women working the fields while the men seem to spend most of their time in the shade drinking chai.

We made good time on some of the faster main roads, reaching the Black Sea by 2.30p.m. All the coastal towns were preparing for the summer rush, but as usual were not ready for us. A man at a petrol station said 'Two campsites, one Kilometre.' Naturally our keen and honed instincts led us straight to nothing, so İ guessed at a small enclosed area which turned out to be a private housing estate by the beach. A maintenance man looked confused but perked up when he understood 'denız' and 'swim,' showed us the beach saying ok to camp. A few minutes later he returned with 'Polis' an older man named Ali who lived here but worked in Ankara for the Police. He let us pitch tents in his garden after more chai at a house opposite his, owned by his dad and his girlfriend, a teacher from Ankara, who plied us with fresh organic strawberries and honey from their garden. Ali's wife was also a teacher from Ankara. We showed them our route, then laughed at the universal inability for humans to fold a map!

We couldn't stay long as we both needed to catch up on our journals. We sat by the sea with a cold beer from the nearby shop, then Geoff realised we'd watched four sunsets over four different seas on two different continents in four days! İ doubt that would've happened if we'd planned it!

We have until the 1st June when our Russian visas begin, so we have some time on our hands for a change to just enjoy the scenery along the Black Sea coast, local hospitality and anything else interesting on our way to Trabzon where we hope to catch a ferry to Sochi, Russia.

So far we have been to 21 countries and just under 5000 miles!
England, Wales, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Liechtenstein, Italy, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Kosovo, Serbia, Montenegro, Albania, Macedonia, Greece, Bulgaria and Turkey!

Just three or five to go then! Some of which appear to be quite large....İ'll let you know!

Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia,Albania, Kosovo and Greece.

2008-05-21T09:26:00.016+01:00

Well Slovenia wasn't much to write home about, so I won't. Nice enough, surprisingly mountainous but to make time we followed the autostrada, we wanted to reach the coast!
We had to show our passports for the first time at the Croatian border, then down to the first town we could see on the map, Rijeck. The diesel fumes from old buses filled the air and I assumed this town would not be pleasant. We parked the bikes at the marina, full of fish in the clear sea. The town was surprisingly modern with many cafes and a long pedestrianised high street. Geoff asked in a tourist office if an internet cafe was in town, only to find the internet is freely available anywhere along the high street! A stark contrast to the lack of availability in Italy, where we had to surrender our passports to use it. I proudly showed of to Geoff my prowess at ordering a toasted ham and cheese roll with ketchup, then wandered the town while he sat in the shade with his laptop. It was very hot as I admired the locals latest fashion of English slogan T-shirts and the unusual way they are translated. Such as 'Extremes Meet,' 'Dirty weekend' and 'Against.' One man approached me and apologised for Croatia beating England, It wasn't his fault, it's just that their footballers are good!

Then followed the A8 along the winding coast. This must be one of the best biking roads in the world! Constant sweeping curves for hundreds of Kilometres, with mountains to the left and the beautiful Adriatic to the right. A campsite is easy to find, they are everywhere along the coast, but because we were enjoying the ride, kept stopping when we found one, the deciding to ride to the next! A small site right on the seafront was nice enough, just in time for a rain shower. We tried our best to impress the owner by ordering our food in bad Croat, after reading the English translation. Fine until what we wanted wasn't available! Including 'scrumbled' eggs! Mixed grill? Ta muchly. My phone screen was damaged somehow so my old spare phone now has to be used. I'd brought a spare for Russia, just in case we get robbed, so at least I'd be giving away a duff phone now.

I had a bad stomach in the morning, but felt better after a shower with two huge hairy caterpillars and an ants nest. Luckily a builders bucket came in handy for the second time on the trip, this time to flush the toilet!
We rode a few Kilometres back to take photos of a fantastic little fishing hamlet we'd spotted on the way through. A few run down houses, one or two occupied in an idyllic calm little bay. A large carpet lay on the beach to dry and an old man fixing his fishing net while two ladies sat chatting over a coffee. So serene we both agreed it's a perfect place to live.

Back along the marvellous A8, a short look around the city of Split, a mixture of old run down shops and buildings, ugly apartments and modern fashion shops.
Through another 'stealth' toll booth on the A8 and a nice campsite on the cliffs. We pitched the tents at the foot of the cliffs by the sea, went for a swim in the cold but refreshing sea before retiring to the site restaurant, where a Dutchman recommended Albania but avoid Kosovo because of the political unrest at it's Independence from Bosnia. He introduced us to Milan, the site owner, and proud owner of an orange Zastava 750. He knows an opportunity when he sees one and a few phone calls later had arranged for us to meet a journalist friend of his back in Split, providing we stayed one more day for his infamous 'Fish Party.' Of course we had to accept!
We waited for an hour in the morning to meet Milan's daughter Maria, who arranged for us to meet the Journalist by a large metal sculpture of a yellow apple. Nobody in Split had heard of a yellow apple, so Geoff gave his phone to a lady in a bookshop who spoke to Ivana the journalist and arranged to meet us there. Ivana probably was the most beautiful girl in Croatia and we were smitten!
She led us to where the locals go for coffee and food, along narrow streets to a large Egyptian palace, built by the last Roman emperor for a summer house. She interviewed us over a coffee for the local newspaper, then to the yellow apple which had been removed, explaining why no-one knew where it was, then a photo shoot by the marina where we met the first English tourists. Unfortunately stereotypical, and shouting England is the best country in the world! But not as beautiful as Croatia, we hastily added to Ivana in our embarrassment.
A day certainly not wasted, and a shame we may never see ourselves in a Croatian newspaper.
Back in time for the 'Fish Party' already in full swing where Milan greeted us with a cup of his home brewed paint stripper and equally strong red wine, which actually was quite nice in comparison. An 11yr old girl named Antonia was busy serving drinks and anything else we wanted. She was a guest staying at the site and was extremely helpful, asking us English questions such as the difference between 'these' those' and 'they.' Difficult even for us! I tried two salty Anchovies for the first time, not being over impressed and glad of the fresh bread and good beer to soften the impact. A nice grilled Mackerel and very strong potato salad, followed by another Mackerel, then another. Not much choice really but only 3 Euros. We chatted to a German couple from Stuttgart who insisted we come to their house for Black Forest Gateaux. Apparently Geoff had another different kind of proposition by a younger German couple in the Gents, but given the choice, prefered the Gateaux option! The accordion I'd seen hanging over the bar last night was in full swing along with guitar gave us all the entertainment we could hope for.
I don't know what Milan put in the drink but it successfully gave us our best nights sleep and a head as overcast as the morning weather.
The Albanian border was manned by a few grumpy overweight guards who demanded a 'Tax' payment of 10 Euros each. We were annoyed and amused but after seeing the state of his office didn't mind as long as we got into Albania quickly as it was getting late. The first town was for want of a better description, a 'shithole.' Never have I seen so much filth, litter and squalor anywhere before. We didn't stop, choosing to head for the hills and somewhere to camp. Just before the next town a man on the worst motorbike you could imagine shouted to us as we passed, 'I love London.'
Ok mate no worries, but he caught me and insisted he buy us coffee. I politely refused but he said 'Hotel cheap,' I said 'No money.' He insisted, even offering to pay for hotel as he had worked in London and had money. Our choices we limited, so we went for a coffee in a nice modern cafe, one of many looking out of character with the surroundings. Jack the Albanian had worked as a plasterer in London for 5yrs between 1999 and 2004. He had built a large house with the money and talked us into staying with him and his family. We followed his noisy bike with me lighting the road for him. He had no lights, brakes or anything of use on his bike but it got him around!
He had a very nice house, and soon had us drinking his home brewed Raki, very strong! We met his kids, 3 boys, two of them twins and a young girl. Plates of food were soon served by his wife, beef, fish, cheese, olives and cucumber, all from his own smallholding behind the house. We chatted until late, used up all his hot water in his posh bathroom then I was even given his double bed to sleep while Geoff fitted nicely in one of the kids beds. Jack's sister also lived with them after divorcing her Italian husband. Jack envied us for living in London and earning good money. He was unemployed since returning home and had no way of getting back to London. We were also envious of his lifestyle, almost totally self supported and a 50 gallon waterbutt full of Raki in the front room!
We were humbled at his generosity. Next morning he gave us 3ltrs of Raki, then led us to the road where we could find a ferry to Kosovo, but not before he had a puncture. We had nothing to fix a tubed tyre and regretfully had to leave him, he assured us he'd be ok.

We wanted to pass through the next town of Puke just to say we'd been there but it was out of the way and we had an 11am ferry to catch. The road over the mountains was scenic but also the worst yet. Very hard on the bikes and us. We approached a huge dam and through the spooky dark tunnel alongside it to a small ferry terminal where we discovered the ferry wasn't until 3.30pm! Given the choice of a 5hr wait or the road back proves how bad the road was, as we chose to wait. It was an hour late setting off and took two hours longer than we expected but at least it was a nice ride through the mountains. Albanians seem to be unaware of litter as we watched a constant flow of bottles and beer cans being thrown into the water.

The dusty road from the ferry was even worse, leading us to a small town, again heaped in litter and small children chasing the bikes. The road soon improved and the last stretch into Kosovo was very good, reminiscent of Scotland.
The border crossing was the most pleasant yet. A very helpful policeman who spoke good English, translated for us to buy insurance, and chatted about Manchester United. He picked up a large black scorpion to show us. Suitably impressed. we jumped on the bikes and rode off into the pitch dark, only to be worried by a violent lightning storm, making us wonder if another war had kicked off!
Most of the fuel stations were closed but one that was open soon gave us a crowd of onlookers around the bikes. A helpful pump attendant fetched the garage owner who happily led us to a hotel to shelter from the storm. There was actually little rain but given the choice of a rough camp in the dark amongst the scorpions we agreed a hotel was a better option. Hotel MFI as I called it. Very superficial but pleasant enough. The jacuzzi worked well enough even if I couldn't fit in it very well. The floor was wet, the washbasin wasn't fixed to anything and the door handle came off. Apart from that, it was the Hilton compared to Albania. Two 12" pizzas and two beers in a posh cafe for 10 Euros! Kosovo has come a long way since the war, still some evidence of it such as piles of rubble where buildings used to be and one or two bullet ridden houses along the roads but a pleasant and friendly place, perfect for our budget. We did exceptionally well thanks to Jack in Albania, totally free for us except for the 'tax.'

We had to pay 50 Euros for insurance across Macedonia but at least the roads were good. So good in fact, at a toll booth I nearly offered my change as payment for another go! The motorway split around a mountain so we had two lanes for miles with little traffic. A steady 70 or 80mph along a winding road was without a doubt the best motorway on the world, probably. I remember thinking I'm too old with no flippin' reflexes to be clippin' apexes! Joy.
'Elf and safety hasn't reached this part of the world yet. A man with a red flag stood in the inside lane warning of works in the tunnel.
We stopped for Kelly's crisps and a cold drink in one of the many new fuel stations, spread across the country, to reflect on the ride before pressing on the the Greek border.
The road flattened out and became straight and boring. At the Greek border we met Jason from Northern England who now lives in Stockholm, who had recently travelled the world on a Harley he'd built himself. Top Bloke. The Bureau de Change had closed down and was empty. So, no change there then!

We headed for Thessaloniki and the coast to find a campsite. A man in a white BMW pointed the way around the busy ring road, even phoning an English speaking friend to help out.
We found a site eventually, hampered by darkness and bug splattered visors. Not realising we'd lost another hour putting us two hours ahead of GMT until we reached Epanomi and saw the church clock. At least the campsite restaurant was still open. We had a long day, around 300 miles, putting up the tents in record time and wolfing down a strange beef kebab steak stuffed with Feta cheese. Nice enough. We are staying here in Epanomi for a day to catch up on the blogs and rest. We've had a wander around the huge local market, had an expensive cappuccino, found a small internet cafe packed with excited noisy kids playing online games, and later should have the beach to ourselves!
We hope to enter Turkey tomorrow but there is some confusion as to whether we need a Carnet or not. We were told not but Jason seems to think we do. If we do then it's Bulgaria and the Ukraine around the top of the black sea. Maybe a few days longer but should be fun. We shall see.

Liechtenstien, Austria and Italy.

2008-05-13T11:29:00.006+01:00

We were so close to Liechtenstien we had to pay a short visit just to tick off another country. Geoff smirked a tab and I took a photo of the border crossing and that was it, Liechtenstein. Back into Austria to Landeck to find a campsite. While waiting for a rockfall to be cleared, we got talking to a German riding a BMW K1100 who led us to the Weisserspritz sport hotel which had a campsite at the back. It was difficult keeping up with him on the twisty road, but what a road! A beautiful ski resort and probably the most scenic so far.

We tried the restaurant and the lovely blond waitress ushered us into a side room when we told her we were camping and not residing in the hotel. A nonetheless lovely room where I sampled weinerschnitzel followed by a banana split. Well, why not make the most of it? We had a drive of a 4X4 electric chair designed for full access to the surrounding area, geared towards disabled visitors. A 30.000 euro machine and very nippy, on test at the hotel. I want one. The hotel employee also imformed us that due to an unusual amount of snow the Stelvio pass was still closed, so we'll have to ride some others to make up for it.
After a cold night 3800ft up the mountainside I woke to the sound of the huge meltwater falls cascading down the mountains, watched some deer run along the valley below, away from the few houses and the benchsaw busily making a stockpile of firewood for the cold nights. I washed my clothes in the shower and left them to dry in the sun after the frost had cleared. It was actually very hot by 9.30.
We reached the Italian border by 12.45 where I managed to find some novelty braces to keep up my irritatingly loose leathers. We stumbled upon the Reschen reservior and the Romanesque church tower proundly standing above the water. The last building left standing after the fascist government decided to flood two local reserviors, lake Mittersee and Rechensee, after the 2nd world war had finished. 181 houses and farms were destroyed and 70% of the population forced to move or stay in a camp for two years, with no help at all from the government.
We headed down to Lana and found another 4 star campsite, the Arquin. This camping lark really is roughing it! I mean, the pool had closed before we could take a dip, outrageous!
A stroll around the local town to cool off after another 28C day, relaxing by the town's picturesque pond full of fish.
We packed early next morning and set off for Passo Di M. Giovo, via the bakery and the obligatory croissants!
The pass was definitely the best ride yet, and we sat amoungst the snow covered peaks with our first taste of Black Forest gateaux at the Idelweiss cafe 2096m high, (the mountain not the cafe) since we couldn't actually find any in the Black Forest! Another amazing ride down, and halfway back up again to try filming it, unsuccessfully again. The camcorder refusing to play ball for some unknown reason. A roadside brew up was in order, where I had a sudden urge to relieve myself into a discarded builders bucket, perched halfway down a steep riverbank above fast flowing rapids. Not ideal but I'd been suffering for a day or two and when you gotta go you gotta go!

The Gretl Am See campsite at lake Caldaro was our stop for the night, and what an amazing place. It's almost a resort in itself, right on the shores of the lake, full of windurfers making us look decidedly insignificant and not part of their superior talented group.
The local bar and pizzeria was the best yet, where we reflected on the state of Italian selfish driving, whle the lake reflected the state of our attire compared to the suave fashionable Italians.
I was surprised even though we were in Italy everyone still speaks German. As we are effluent in all foreign languages, it didn't matter.

Onward to Lake Garda and the Limone resort for another night camped by the shore at another excellent campsite. We even managed an hours sunbathe before a very heavy hailstorm that really tested out the tents integrity. A bit dank, but dry enough.
Onto Roverto after sampling more croissants, deciding the only way to find a favourite was to simply try them all as we go. Despite last nights rain the tents were the driest they'd been so far. Many small tractors held up the traffic amoungst miles of vineyards and olive groves. There are many Piaggio 50cc three wheel pickups that are used for carrying almost anything, except 6'6" blokes....
Passo Del Sommo for marmalade croissants, then down to Passo Di Vezzina heading for Asagio. A a large town, but nowhere to feed hungry bikers as Italians don't do Sundays.
The best days riding so far. Quite cold up in the mountains as we stopped to watch four skiers using the last dregs of snow at a ghostown ski resort. We stopped at Forza where Geoff negotiated some house spagetti at a hotel restaurant. The owners wife refused to give us a capuccino with spagetti as it was 'not possible' so we had to have water, cowering and guilty at our heathen ways. All the local towns were covered in Italian flags celebrating 300.000 Italian soldiers lost in previous wars. We didn't understand the exact details, our Italian is coming along, but cappuccino and beer is about our limit.
Onto Feltre along amazing twisty roads to Energo. Campsites are getting few and far between but we eventually found one south of Belluno, via an unnames gravel hillclimb over a mountain, where two local girls pointed us in the right direction. It was similar to the Hardknott pass in the Lake District, but potholed, rocks and gravel, good practice for Russia! A small ski resort town of Nevegal, and another four star campsite, but distinctly by Eastern European standards! We met Thomas the German cyclist who was covering around 80km a day, probably more than us. Everyone we meet is so friendly, and waving to every motorcyclist is even becoming a chore! I had little sleep that night, it was so quiet every little sound was exaggerated, persistant cuckoos and a fiercely barking dog echoing down the valley all night kept me awake.

Thomas waved us on after a few photos and disbelief at our madness, but he could understand why we need to do it. Travelling in this way brings life to your journey in a way hotels will never.
We aimed in a general direction of Trieste, passing the stunning Dolomites, and onto the most boring Roman roads imaginable. Our first McDonalds was a welcome break along the dull, busy A13, as interesting as a dialtone compared the the mountain passes we had come accustomed to, but intrinsically more interesting than our A13. Unfortunately this McDonald's didn't have internet access but as it's burgers are trademarked, easy to order in English! So off to grind out the last miles to Trieste. A view over the bay from the main road in was an extra treat after an afternoon of tiresome straights and impatient Italian drivers who will overtake at any half-chance.
A stop for a cappuccino on the seafront to admire the scenery, having to agree Italian women are the most attractive so far. The city is an amazing place, as was the fight for supremacy between hordes of scooters, lorries and tiny cars. One lorry cut across me forcing me to turn left, negotiate the one-way system, and find Geoff patiently waiting where we were rudely parted.
Almost as the Slovenian border and no sign of a campsite, we returned to the other side of town where one or two were signposted on the outskirts.
Alle Rosa is the most basic site so far, but adequate except for the low shower height that us gentlemen of higher altitude often suffer.
An evenings ride back into town searching for pizza, and a nice stroll around the beautiful city to contemplate Slovenia compared to such a affluent resort as Trieste. We guessed the wrong road back to camp that lead us high above Trieste. But what a view! The whole bay under a purple and pink sunset, mirrored by the calm sea. The campsite was only 5 miles from the city centre, so after 15 we turned around, opting to take the Autostrada back into town to follow the road we knew. Little did we realise we had turned around less than 100mtrs from the site! Geoff had his suspicions when he spotted the supermarket across the road from the site.

This morning I was really feeling the exhaustion from the mileage and lack of sleep, and was only too pleased when Geoff announced what a good idea it would be to stay for another day and find an internet cafe. Not easy trying to fit everything in before the time runs out so apologies for typing this so quickly because I know you can't read fast.....

So Trieste will have to put up with us for another day, but at least we finally found a small internet cafe after a mornings search. I bought some chain lube from a local bikeshop, after finding it tucked away on two shelves at the back behind rows of every fashion item relating to bikes imaginable. Even the full length mirror at the till, after which two customers had made full use of, buying extortionate items, made me look thin. It's not what you do or how you do it in Italy, it's all about looking good doing it!

Into Slovenia tomorrow following the coast down to Bosnia, should prove interesting!

Greetings from Austria!

2008-05-07T08:21:00.006+01:00

After Lee and Mark had gone, it was rather subdued around the campsite. We decided to stay another night and take a break by the Stausee reservoir, further down the valley below us. After a bratwurst and coffee and loading the bikes with baguettes, cheese and ham from the supermarket in town 3 miles away, (we didn't want to ride far that day!) we headed along the Linach river, parking the bikes by the huge damn, and soaking up the morning sun by the reservoir. Two men were doing maintenance work on the damn, so we watched them drive their van out from underneath it, thinking what a great photo opportunity. After the men left, we sneaked along the private road after lifting the barrier, grabbed a few shots of the bikes at the foot of the damn, and quickly rode off back to the Michelhof Gasthaus to see if our washing was done.
Lee had kindly given us 50 euros for a nice meal, so taking full advantage, ordered steak and gooseberry pavlova. Cheers Lee!

Packing the tents early after another cold night, croissants and coffee gave us a good start to the day in a lovely cafe. The food and coffee in Germany never fails to impress.
A visit to Rheinfalls for the second time, as it was on our way, was even more spectacular than last time because we approached it from above. By this time it was very hot, and the cool spray from the falls welcome.
My satnav had water contamination in the contacts and was next to useless, until several soakings in WD40 did the trick. The bikes where filled by a young forecourt attendant just over the border in Switzerland, while the owner was eager to take photos of the bikes and our route for his gallery.
Although the satnav was working, the route it chose took us off the main road, through villages and back several times, creating a much further route than neccessary. Two of the roads were closed which didn't help our frustration, taking us along the A14 instead of the A13 which would've given us a good view of lake Bodensee. Having missed most of the scenery, a Mcdonald's came to our rescue, even giving Geoff 30mins of WI FI access for a quick blog update.
The plan was to stay the night in Liechtenstein but I saw a sign for a campsite near lake Bodensee, close to the Austrian border. Geoff's bike was handling badly, due to the front tyre only having 20Ibs of pressure. Camp Idyll is a very nice site, only let down by the nearby airport, frequented by many small aircraft, even some biplanes, probably sightseeing over the nearby alps. The local shop closed before we could buy food but luckily, the campsite was still serving, so we settled down to a pizza and draught beer. Much preferable to the draughts in the windy Black Forest.
I was woken by a plane taking off at 6.30, still tired after an early night but soon felt better after a shower. The urinals have a fly imprinted on them so you know where to aim! I thought the wash basin did also, but this one was real. Geoff was still annoyed with me from the day before afterI inadvertantly made a remark that hit a nerve. I didn't think before I spoke as I knew it meant nothing, but he was less than impressed and wanted to ride alone for a day. I wasn't too confident riding alone and meeting Geoff would be more luck than judgment, especially as the satnav was dead, later discovering a loose battery connection. I felt bad and could only apologise for my ignorance, agreeing to pick up on anything we do or say that's annoying immediately or waste time stewing instead of enjoying ourselves.
The route was planned across Austria, where we are now in an internet cafe, and plan to ride down through Liechtenstein making our way to the Pass De Stelvio, the second highest pass in the Alps. I hope we can find a campsite near the breathtaking views.
The pass should be fun on a heavy Tiger!

East good, West bad...

2008-05-05T12:13:00.008+01:00

Geoff's just paid for another hour of internet access, so I'll make the most of it!
I can't connect my camera so photo's will have to wait...

We didn't even notice the border crossing back into France, as we skirted the border twice more before finally entering Germany.
We stopped at a popular biker cafe in the center of the Black Forest after an amazing ride around some of the steepest and twistiest roads I've ever seen. Absolutely amazing! A true biker paradise, far more bikes than cars and all very friendly.
A local biker on a Triumph Daytona who spoke excellent English, pointed us in the direction of the best road in the forest. I think it was the B500, I'll have to check, but it was fantastic. Even on a loaded Tiger I had more fun than a barrel of monkeys. The edge of my tyres finally getting the usage they deserved, but not after taking a mile or so to regain my confidence after avoiding an over zealous VW Golf sliding toward me on a hairpin....happening for the second time that day.
We aimed for Treberg until we discovered the nearest campsite was about 20 miles south. We didn't expect much as it was in the middle of nowhere, but what a perfect place to be!

The Michaelhof Gästehaus sits over 3000ft overlooking a beautiful valley. It was difficult to arrange two nights camping and an evening meal, as the landlady spoke no English, and also quite amusing watching Geoff trying loudly gesticulating unsuccessfully to enquire if Black Forest gateaux was served.
It was cold at night under a clear sky, but feeling the sunrise over the mountains soon warmed us up ready to 'nip' over the border into Switzerland, as Mark put it, carefully mapping out a route avoiding motorways, to avoid a toll. I didn't care where we went as long as it wasn't back home!
"I see," said Mark, so that's East good, West bad..."
It doesn't matter where you go, everywhere is spectacular. The small scenic towns offered immaculate streets, and perfectly presented coffee and giant pretzels in a few cafes that remained open on a Sunday.

There are still border posts, but empty, so no barbed wire to jump the Tigers over a' la Steve McQueen. Lee led us much further than we first planned, but when we accidentally discovered the Rienfalls, we had to stop and stare in awe. So much so we decided to buy more cheese and rolls from the local Co Op garage and locate a spot for lunch. And what a spot Lee found. A huge castle high in the mountain forests overlooking the Rein. All the way to Switzerland for some Camenbert....
The route back to the campsite was more then entertaining, especially when overtaking a car at ahem, 70kph officer, a pheasant strolled in front of me, showering my visor in unpleasantries as I ducked underneath it.

That evening was spent sampling Geoff's splendid Spagetti Bolognaise, and Marks noodles with added chilli for a 'kick', marvellous!

Next morning I was awoken early to the sound of tents being packed onto bikes, as Mark and Lee prepared for the 600 mile ride home. As much as we want them to stay it isn't possible. We waved them off with a big thankyou for everything, then booked another night for a break.
We should stay in Switzerland tomorrow if all goes well.
Bye for now.

In Continent weather.

2008-05-05T11:17:00.004+01:00

It was a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation riding the bike onto the ferry. But not as strange as finding a kebab shop/internet cafe in Furtwangen, 3miles from Michelhof guesthouse/campsite where we are saying for two days to catch up on sleep and plan a route through Switzerland. Calais was where the trip really started for me. After a cold and windy night in Folkestone, meeting Lee at the Warren campsite soon cheered us up, especially after sampling the local beverages and squeezing our more than adequate frames into a taxi. Mark often compares his physique to a god, shame it's Budda's....
After the mad rush for the last 3 months planning, we could now relax and just enjoy riding the bikes.
The roads out of Calais, although very wet, were a revelation. Smooth, scenic and little traffic. Ideal for a bike. One important thing we overlooked was the fact that as May 1st was a bank holiday, all the shops and fuel stations were closed. By the time we found petrol on one of the main roads in Lille, I had 1.5lt left and Geoff 1ltr. That was close.

Lee suggested a small town in Belgium, Chimay, as the local monks are famous for their beer. A good enough reason. Geoff and I were perfectly happy allowing Lee and Mark to decide when and where we went, just so we could relax and take in the scenery. Northern France doesn't have much in the way of scenery but the roads made up for it.
Geoff found an 'English' pub in Chimay, the Queen Mary, where bikers are welcome. It was full of dummies sporting Valentino Rossi leathers and famous Belgian riders unfamiliar to us. A very surreal place, especially when the Karaoke was fired up to liven the evening. Think of the worst Eurovision songs, sung by the worst 'over refreshed' Belgians, and you'd be halfway to imagining how bad it was. As hilarious as the look on Marks face!
Some of the roads in this region were as straight as a Queens guard's expression. I think the Romans had no interest in motorcycling.

As we left Chimay, past the local livestock market admiring the array of chickens, ducks, rabbits and other game, we past an amazing array of vintage European and American cars. You don't see many old Mercedes like that one, except that one and those two.
Mark led us into Luxembourg for lunch, cheese and salami rolls, bought fresh that morning in a small village patisserie in the Ardenne region. Perfect until an enormous black cloud dampened our spirits for a few minutes. Mark looked like Sasquatch hiding under a camouflaged poncho.

We found a nice campsite alongside a fast flowing river, after a long ride down to the Black Forest. Mark and Geoff shopped for food while Lee and I did our best to negotiate the price of camping with our limited German, and the site owners broken English. A crowd of motorhomes congealed around the showerblock for a 'Folksong evening' probably contributing a great deal to the malodourous overwhelmed toilets.

The morning weather was perfect, a chance for the tents to dry out.
"Die sonne scheint mit glitzer strahl" I exclaimed. 'The sun shines with a glittering beam'
Geoff was very impressed at my grasp of German language until I explained it was simply a Kraftwerk lyric.
Apologies for any spelling mistakes, the spellcheck is in German.....

The adventure begins....

2008-04-30T09:59:00.005+01:00

Every man is more than just himself; he also represents the unique, the very special and always significant and remarkable point at which the world's phenomena intersect, only once in this way and never again. ~Hermann Hesse

According to my satnav I've covered 1075 miles so far, so only around 24000 to go then....

I've been busier than a zombie at a mensa conference these last few days. I had the last of my jabs Tuesday, then straight to Farleigh Hospice to meet Fiona Ward for lunch. (Chicken and ham pie!) I presented Fiona with the Farleigh cake my brother Steve had made for me (a friends mum) yet again I've been touched by the generosity not only of friends and family, but complete strangers. Two bikers turned up, John and Joe, to give us a friendly send off in the pouring rain. After posing for a few photos during a break in the weather, off we went to hunt for the last elusive equipment for the trip. My brother Phil and wife Pippa kindly gave me enough money to buy a decent tent, for which I am eternally grateful. Almost everything is on the bike so now they are heavier than a sumo wrestlers plate at a buffet. It's an interesting technique to climb aboard, but one small step for me, one giant leap for Geoff (4'3''). Just a few minor tweaks to the homemade 'Pooratech' (patent pending) equipment, then down to Folkestone for the night ready to board the P&O ferry at Dover Thursday morning. So that's it, the adventure begins. I haven't had time to get excited yet, but once we're actually on the ferry leaving the country with two of our mates Mark and Lee, we can relax and just enjoy the ride. Hopefully they've argued out the best route down to the Black Forest, but wherever we go, we're going to have the time of our lives. It'll be interesting to see what we forget to take...all part of the fun. I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

Time gentlemen....for THE pie.

2008-04-29T09:51:00.004+01:00

For the man sound in body and serene of mind there is no such thing as bad weather; every day has its beauty, and storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more vigorously. ~George Gissing, "Winter," The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft, 1903

Like I said before, it's no coincidence that pies and the Earth have a crust, and what a beautiful piece of art when they are combined. Mark Wallis has excelled himself once again. Sometimes you don't appreciate the beauty of something until it's destroyed. And destroy it we did. Great pie and great company, a perfect evening.

The sun was actually shining when we left Sunday morning, heading for London to locate some 'man-sized' boots. I decided to take my old waterproof gloves as a spare pair, opposed to buying new ones.

The ride across Oxfordshire was amazing, chosen by the satnav, sweeping 'A' and 'B' roads through picturesque villages, until we hit the motorway into London and a hailstorm. Fortunately it didn't last long, turning to heavy rain. By the time we reached a slip road to stop for waterproofs, my toes were already submerged inside my steadily filling boots, so opted to continue, just for the pleasure.
After much chin scratching beneath a doubtful expression, the shopkeeper produced two pairs of boots, neither of which could I squeeze my dripping socks into. As soon as I mentioned we were in the Riders Digest and would put in a good word if he helped me, he morphed into something resembling a Spanish waiter, being as helpful and courteous as possible. Not even his mate 'Pedro' at the other branch had anything suitable, so the Geoff led me to Sondel's via the visa office, which was shut.
Sondel's did have some decent goretex boots, the assistant offered to dispose of my old leather buckets, but they are fine in the dry and were duly perched atop my overladen bike.
A quick break at the A120 rest stop to stock up on copies of Riders Digest, just in case we need to resort to the 'Don't you know who we are' routine, then home. I showed the 'Gordon Bleugh' grill chef our picture, he pushed it away grunting, 'Don't like bikes, jus' stock the mag.'
We won't be going back there very soon then.

A Welsh leak...

2008-04-28T22:13:00.006+01:00

I recently had my annual physical examination, which I get once every seven years, and when the nurse weighed me, I was shocked to discover how much stronger the Earth's gravitational pull has become since 1990. ~Dave Barry

Learn to trust thy satnav, 'tis a strange path it taketh, but thou shalt arrive. It followeth afterall, only a map. - Mark Wallis

We were amazed when Steve presented us with a Farleigh Hospice cake. I chose not to dive in head first, opting to save it for Tuesday 29th, when we set off from Farleigh in Chelmsford.
Breakfast in Gosforth at the Lakeland Habit Cafe (our favourite) then photos at Wastwater and even a little offroading to film the bikes by the lake. Daz left for Whitby after spending all his money on us in the pub. We must make it up to him when we return by letting him do the same, after all, we'll be skint.
I wanted to stay longer, Wastwater is a stunning view but we had to get to Betws-y-Coed in Snowdonia. Steve and Nicky drove back to Boot and we rode through the rain to Wales.

My comfortable, waterproof kangeroo skin gloves weren't, neither were my waterproof Oxtar boots, or my Frank Thomas waterproof jacket. This is why it's important to test your gear. On the plus side, the roads were fantastic.
We arrived to find the campsite closed for refurbishment until June, and as it was getting late and still raining heavily, decided to break our 'no hotel' rule to dry out the gear. Every clothes hanger, curtainrail, door and handle was covered in wet gear and the heating on full, curling my wet money nicely on the radiator. It was obvious I needed to get new boots, gloves and I knew my tent wasn't going to last long in this weather. So continuing the 'Rat' theme, the evening was spent changing from 'drowned as a rat' to 'rat arsed'.

To gain some time, instead of joining the BMW Boxertrix rideout http://www.boxertrix.com/ the next day, we headed down to Didcot a day early after watching dozens of BMWs and a few others leave the Stables Bar at the Royal Oak ride off into the hills. This would give me time to locate the rarest of items known to mankind in London, a pair of goretex boots in size 13.

Approaching Oxford, we parted ways on a roundabout as the satnav took me a diffrent route than expected, but Geoff soon caught up. The strange route did save some time, always handy to allow Geoff to stop 'for a smirk'.
Mark and wife Anna made us very welcome at their home in Didcot, even allowing us to cram the overloaded Tigers in their garage. His Honda Pan European seemed small in comparison.
I'd hardly slept all week, and must've looked slightly below par, but Mark knows exactly what a tired biker needs....beer and pie.

For lakes and pies to Boot.

2008-04-27T18:59:00.005+01:00

Any man, in the right situation, is capable of murder. But not any man is capable of being a good camper. So, murder and camping are not as similar as you might think.-Jack Handy

If nothing ever goes to plan, why plan?

-Alan Kelly

We arrived At St. Teresa's Hospice, Darlington in good time for the official start of Poor Circulation at 11am Wed. 23rd, St Georges day. The beaming smiles of all the staff and patients really brightened up an otherwise wet and overcast day.

During an interview for local BBC Radio Tees, (yes us on the rager!) Geoff's bike was left running for ambience. A crowd of photographers waved us on, well me anyway until I noticed Geoff in hysterics after realising leaving the bike running was the last straw for the battery!

We looked like a crowd of commuters trying to board the last bus, running behind Geoff's bike. A set of borrowed jump leads did the trick and soon we were off....to the nearest bike shop.

White Bros (Honda) Darlington supplied a charged battery, and charged cost price, only £21. Top blokes! By this time we realised Scotland may well have been as far away as Russia. There was no way we could ride there and get to the lakes in the same day, at least not at our more than youthful ages...

I wasn't my usual jovial self after misplacing my phone at Squires, and not realising until we stopped at Penny Garth Cafe, Hawes. Daz offered to ride back there on his way to Whitby the following Saturday, and post the phone home for me, a true 'Diamond Geezer' as we say dahn sahf. Luckily my brother Steve and wife Nicky were on their way to meet us at Boot in Eskdale Cumbria the following day, and would get it on his way. That's what brothers are for, it's their job.

I used my Garmin Zumo satnav for the first time, finding Wrynose and Harknott pass on our way to Boot in Eskdale. I was using a Scala Rider bluetooth headset, fine for vocal instructions or talking on the phone, but useless for music and very irritating so I've opted for a pair of noise cancelling headphones, excellent sound quality but I must remember to unplug before leaving the bike!

The sun was shining and the ride over Hardknott was let's say, 'entertaining' with a loaded bike. I performed my second ever unintentional wheelie. Was I bothered in the least? Well yes, but my slightly 'over-pied' frame soon equalised the weight distribution.

Martyn and Sue of Hollins Farm Campsite welcomed us and kindly allowed us two nights free camping. We always stay there every year simply because it's the perfect campsite in a perfect location. It's close to three pubs, including the Boot Inn who serve what we still believe to be the best pies in the world! Even if you don't have a tent, you can stay in a converted barn that sleeps up to eight, or one of the camping pods. You don't even have to be a member.

For more info-http://www.siteseeker.co.uk/aspx/details.aspx?id=9030

After a night of removing the 'ale' from Eskdale, I lent Geoff (4'9'') my 'Tilbury credit card' to siphon some fuel for the morning cuppa. It didn't work so a manual effort ensued. If I had my phone, Guinness would've been called there and then to register the world record for litres per gob of finest unleaded. If only I had my camera handy to capture the beautiful rainbow as the sun shone through millions of tiny droplets ejected from the purple human fountain. Not the best time to discover 97 RON is in fact clear, therefore difficult to see approaching along a clear tube. I suggested he should 'smirk a tab' so when he yawned, I could do some toast.

My sides ached for a while but at least I could keep warm by the bonfire, entertained as Geoff (3'11'') ran amok searching for something suitable to extinguish an overfilled stove.

Peace and tranquillity was soon restored, and while waiting for the local shop to cook the bacon rolls, we strolled along the river past the Eskdale corn mill. One of the few remaining two-wheeled mills dating back to 1578, still running as a visitor attraction.

Steve and Nicky soon arrived and I was reunited with close members of my family, when he handed me my phone.

Grey skies and hot pies....

2008-04-27T07:47:00.006+01:00

A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving. ~Lao Tzu

I promised I wouldn't mention Geoff's embarrassment at knocking over a cone and an Aprilia (thankfully caught before a whole row of bikes went down like dominoes!) at the Ace cafe last Monday, so I won't.

I had more jabs Tues 22nd, before realising it takes at least 5hrs longer than I expected to prepare a bike & luggage for the UK leg of our trip. We expected to arrive at Squires Cafe near Sherburn In Elmet Yorkshire at 1pm to meet a friend of Geoff's, Daryll Booker AKA Daz/Moggy, with a view to camping at Whitby. We finally arrived at 5pm and luckily, Daz was already 'over refreshed' on the local beverages, so didn't seem to mind. We soon joined in afer pitching the tents at Squires.

I didn't sleep at all that night, due to a combination of Daz opting to sleep in his bike gear and changing his mind during the night after cooking a pot noodle, which also met with the disaproval of the pub guard dogs, Geoff snoring like a pneumatic drill outside a sawmill and the overhead powerlines buzzing in the fog like a fly killer in a kebab shop. At least I was up early to pack up before it rained...

And they're off....

2008-04-22T12:13:00.003+01:00

I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me. ~Isaac Newton

We had a fantastic night at the Ace cafe last night, the interest shown by so many complete strangers was humbling. The Riders Digest team were fantastic, our first installment is out now so find out where you can pick up a free copy from the link above. Thanks to Mark Wilsmore 'saviour of the Ace' for the socks and the excellent sausage sandwiches! If you've never been to the Ace then you're missing out, it's an amazing place not only for bikers but car enthusiasts as well.

The bike is packed and ready to go, I've never been so busy in my life! We're off to Squires Milk Bar and then on to Whitby for the night, ready for St. Teresas Darlington in the morning.

Must dash I'm late as usual!

The magnificent 7 ride again. (if you count me twice & Mark 3 times)

2008-04-17T21:21:00.009+01:00

The vision must be followed by the venture. It is not enough to stare up the steps - we must step up the stairs. ~Vance Havner

Finally, after months of planning, the most important piece of the jigsaw that is Poor Circulation has been finalised. While Geoff was busy applying for the Russian visas, I was on the phone to Mark Wallis, specifying our exact requirements for the largest steak & ale pie, which he has promised to make upon our return from Scotland. If we are ever cold, wet and miserable on our bikes, Mark's is the place to go and get completely fed up. This, along with the news that Lee Crahart (London marathon 2008 4hrs 15mins-he would've finished earlier but the race hadn't started then) and Mark Wallis (box of marathons aka snickers, 4mins 15secs) will be joining us at Dover on May 1st, for a long weekend through France down to the Black Forest in Germany.

It's the first time the four of us have ridden together since we met in 2004, completing Nick Sanders Motochallenge GB as 'Team Hap Hazard' finishing in 3rd place! (Team 'Norfolk 'n' Chance' won the event and I believe we would have if only Geoff had agreed on my team name suggestion of 'What's Suffolk Indifference?' Unfortunately, not everyone understands wordplay...) Geoff actually won the northern half of the trip, and all of us came away with an embarrassing array of trophies, except for me as they had run out before I could receive one for 2nd place in the time consistency trial. I'm not bitter, I'm completely over it and will never mention it ever again. Geoff will always be a faster rider than myself, far more experience and 5 stone lighter, but if your after a smooth ride, I'm the man.

As from today I'm officially unemployed for the first time and no, it's not a nice feeling! Absolutely no income and nothing left to sell, so when my money runs out, the trip shall end. Geoff is in the same boat, at least I hope he is when we leave for Calais!

This week we've been busier than a Jehovah's Witness in a World of Doors Store. On Monday I confirmed a send off date of Tues 29th from Farleigh Hospice and a photo shoot Sun 20th (PLEASE DONATE www.justgiving.com/alankelly1 http://www.farleigh.org/) Tuesday had three more travel jabs. Wednesday I received my long awaited worldwide travel insurance and a bank letter stating I was £3500 overdrawn, panic, refrain from 'buttering my britches'. Thursday sort bank problem, ride home from work to pick up passport and business invites from City Sprint to enable us to apply for a 90 day business visa for Russia, as a tourist visa only lasts 30 days, ride to Geoff's with documents, apply for two visas online, agree to pay extra £100 for next day processing to ensure we receive visas before we leave for Darlington, so less chance of panic, pay £50 deposit of a total £235 each. Discover Geoff hasn't received written confirmation of travel insurance. Panic. Go to pub for pie, food not being served, panic. Ride home, cook pie. Friday 6.30am Geoff phones needing a signed confirmation of my visa application, panic. Divert my morning commute to Geoff's humble abode (decidedly more barren than the depths of Siberia after he sold all of his 'objets d'art') print visa app. and sign, continue to work. 9am Geoff phones travel insurance broker to send email confirmation of insurance, prints email, rides to Russian embassy London. Embassy doesn't process visas on Fridays, panic. Visas not available for four weeks due to £50 deposit. Panic. Geoff pays full amount cash with visible sweat and tears. Embassy submits applications for Monday, with a guarantee of available collection by Thursday. We will be in the Lake district that day. Panic. Arrange collection following Monday thus negating extra £100 for next day processing and reinstating original time frame for panicking. Scrape barrel marked 'emergency sense of humour' leave job. Plan Saturday and Sunday. Write blog.

So that's an small insight to worldwide trip planning of you decide to do it in a few months with a full time job. There's still much to do, but now the rollercoaster has almost finished, the ride can begin!
I may even find time to get exited.

Let not the sands of time get in your gravy

2008-04-10T17:59:00.007+01:00

My sole transport transports my soul - Alan Kelly

With hindsight, (do hinds have good sight? I've no eye deer...) I would never again try to plan a trip of this scale and still be working a 50hr week. I've only two weekends left to get ready, with far more than 4 days worth of things to do, so it's Bob Hope and no hope for me then. Geoff's already packed having decided which clothes to take. (Picture 'Man At C&A' strutting to the Bee Gees, and a supercilious expression) It's a catch 22 but I need the money. Especially after discovering someone had taken £250 from my account with a cloned card. I suspect due to a phoney phone call. A sure way to make a tall man short and withdrawn. The Gorm on the "help" line asked to check my identity. After quick glance in the mirror, replied "Yes, it's me." He was as vacant as a condemned outhouse. But it's no use blaming the cistern. Some form of form had to be filled, to formally inform necessary information, as per norm. An account of my recount of my account. Being on form I suggested a reform to save this performance. The gorm was true to form. With no access to my money for 5 days and a 15 day wait for a refund. Joy.

Perhaps moving all the bottles in my drinks cabinet to the top shelf would be a sure way to raise my spirits, if only I had one. So I turned to my bike, my oasis. Even that proved to be a mirage.

The only thing feeling more drained than me is my bike battery, after discovering the alarm faintly chirping like a distressed sparrow. Geoff's bike is also alarmed, but that's due to his style of riding. After a close examination of my bike, there was no obvious reason for the alarm to sound, so I tried to reset it. Nothing happened so I turned on the ignition to deliberately set off the alarm. Nothing. I hit the panic button. That didn't work either, so I did what any normal person would do in a similar situation and hastily introduced a size 13 steel-capped toe to the rear tyre.
"If I had any idea what I was doing you wouldn't be so chirpy then, would you? No!" As if threatening an inanimate object would help, but there's always a first time. After admitting defeat, and turning the key from 'bereft' to 'doornail'...it stopped. It's not pining, it's dead.

My electrical tester's instructions appeared to be in Polish, so assuming it's only good for Pole volts, connected a charger, hoping for the best. More joy.

While the battery is currently re-volting, I'm left to stare at an empty space where my car has been parked for 6yrs, after selling my BMW 3 series coupe. One of a precious few cars I can fit in comfortably, and I loved the 6 cylinder engine but alas, surplus to requirements and I need all the money I can get for this trip. It was rarely driven, but kept for the sake of owning a car, and for transportation of friends and family who are unable to comprehend the joys of motorcycling. You can lead a horse to water...

The £600 I got for my car has paid for my sat-nav, the spare clutch and brake levers and cables for both bikes, (£180!) a tankful of petrol and two pies, leaving me with £20.
I walked to the petrol garage the next day for a pint of milk and some crisps.

"Any fuel?" asked the garage owner.

"No thanks" I replied, "I've just sold my car for £600 and I'm left with this £20 note."

"That's ok" he replied, "You can put the crisps back."

It's all gravy...

One HHHundred & EIGHHHTEYYY!!

2008-04-02T17:47:00.007+01:00

A Short History of Medicine

2000 B.C. - "Here, eat this root."

1000 B.C. - "That root is heathen, say this prayer."

1850 A.D. - "That prayer is superstition, drink this potion."

1940 A.D. - "That potion is snake oil, swallow this pill."

1985 A.D. - "That pill is ineffective, take this antibiotic."

2000 A.D. - "That antibiotic is artificial. Here, eat this root."~Author Unknown

After carefully trawling across several websites, we were pleased to discover that most travel vaccines were avoidable, given the route we are taking has a similar latitude to the U.K. Since we aren't entering the tropics, Africa or S. America, we needn't worry about Malaria, Yellow Fever, Meningitis or Japanese B Encephalitis. So Geoff, 5'10" (yeh right-you can see his feet on his driver's licence!) decided as a general precaution, on a Tetanus booster, I assume because his bikes are usually rusty old nails, and Rabies, as it's possible we may encounter a bear. Personally I wouldn't wait long enough to see if a bear was foaming at the mouth. A good way to tell the difference between a black bear and a grizzly, is a black bear will climb a tree after you to kill you, whereas a grizzly will knock the tree down and kill you. Usually because it sees you as a threat, so it's best to curl up on the ground and play dead, rather than fight it and be dead. They are usually seeking food, like me, so ours will be kept in airtight containers.

We have an award winning First Need Deluxe water purifier, that removes bacteria and chemicals from any water source, so we will always have 100% safe drinking water. Unlike most water filters and purifiers, this one doesn't use iodine or any other chemicals. It's expensive, but probably our most vital piece of kit, as most viruses are spread through drinking water.

Camping on the shores of Loch Lomond during summer 2006, taught us the importance of protection from mosquitoes. Milyons of 'em.
"Would Sir care for some mosquito repellent?"

"No thanks, I'm sure we'll be.....ok, we'll take two!"

Copious amounts of Deet are therefore ready for deployment, as is a lesser known, but very affective protection, in the form of Avon Skin So Soft. Obviously, in the interests of upkeeping our biker machismo, by no account shall we admit to it's use.

Out of curiosity, I contacted my local GP and was advised to fill out a travel vaccine form, so they could inform me which diseases, if any, are currently prevalent in the countries we are travelling. In the meantime, I was given a one-off pneumonia jab.

"You're going to need quite a few Mr. Kelly" the nurse reliably informed me the following day. "And as soon as possible, some of these are a course of three!"

The list is as follows:

Hepatitis A & B

Typhoid

Diphtheria

Tetanus

Polio

Rabies

Tick Borne Encephalitis

Malaria (only if we decide to go deep into Mexico, so we wont!)

The good news is all were free of charge except Rabies and Tick Borne Encephalitis, which are expensive and not usually available from local GPs. I managed to get an appointment next morning at my local medical centre to receive an armful of TBE, in exchange for a handful of cash. £6o a jab, with the second needed within 4 weeks, and a third in 6 months if you need 3 years protection. Rabies was available from my GP at £101 for a 3 course. Normally you won't receive more than two jabs at once, but as we are less than 1 month from departure, I had Hepatitis A & B, TBE and Rabies all in the same day.

I felt like a Voodoo doll, wondering if the process worked in reverse, imagining an effigy of me in pain. Or maybe I'd sat in the way of Phil 'The Power' Taylor on one of his 'off' days. But hey, I've had fun before....

Luckily modern needles are so small you hardly notice them, so if you're travelling get vaccinated. I promise you won't feel like a victim of a drive-by jousting from Sir Lancelot.

This month is proving to be our busiest by far, and we are both feeling the strain. And my antibodies are busier than blind man putting socks on a rooster.

I need a holiday.

Mind the steppe

2008-04-01T09:42:00.012+01:00

The shortest distance between two points is under construction. ~Noelie Altito

How did we choose a route across the largest country in the world? To me it looks a simple case of taking the first steppe and the second will follow. Well, almost, we are actually avoiding most of "the Great Steppe," as our route goes mostly around the top of it. The world's largest zone of all steppes, (like a prairie, but shorter grass and temperatures can vary from -40 to +40) found in southwest Russia and neighbouring countries in Central Asia, stretches from Ukraine in the west to the Ural Mountains and the Caspian Sea. Our proposed route takes us from Sochi to Volgograd, then around the top of Kazakstan via Chelyabinsk, Omsk and Novosibirsk. From there across the top of Mongolia to Irkutsk and Lake Baikal, Ulan-Ude and Chita.

This is where it becomes 'interesting' as this vast Trans-Siberian highway, officially opened in 2004 by Vladimir Putin, isn't quite finished. The section between Chita and Khabarovsk, the Amur Highway, is 2100km and currently under construction. Latest information states 1600km is still gravel, so by my best guestimation we shall have to ride very carefully for about 1000 miles. I've just fitted a Ventura headlight guard, courtesy of David Gath at http://www.motohaus.com/ so hopefully if Geoff or his bike throw stones at me, it's unlikely to damage my headlight. Richard Lindley rode across the gravel highway in 2006, also on a Triumph Tiger, saying he was lucky to reach 40mph. His story can be found on the motorcyclists travel site, http://www.horizonsunlimited.com/

It is arguably the longest road in the world, stretching over 11000km from St. Petersburg to Vladivostok, disputing with the Trans-Canada Highway and Highway 1, Australia. Officially, Guinness lists the longest road as the Pan-American Highway at 24,150km, but this has a 54km long section in Panama known as the 'Darien Gap' where the road doesn't connect.

Apparently, the Amur route will be made into a 7 lane highway in 2010. I generally avoid motorways unless I'm in a hurry, but given the choice of riding a new 7 lane highway or 1000 miles of gravel, maybe 9 out of 10 motorcyclists who expressed a preference....

Worried? Me? No, of course not. Not at all, not really. No honestly, well, maybe a bit....ok yes.

Pessimism blunts the tools you need to succeed.

2008-03-28T19:30:00.006Z

All of the biggest technological inventions created by man - the airplane, the automobile, the computer - says little about his intelligence, but speaks volumes about his laziness. ~Mark Kennedy

Sochi, we've decided, will be our entry point for Russia. After suffering the heatwave over Easter here in England, (I knew things were hotting up when the snow turned to sleet) we thought we deserved more and picked a route through Greece and Turkey, following the coast of the Black Sea to Trabzon. From there a relaxing 12hr ferry crossing to the spectacular location of Sochi on the coast of the Black Sea and at the foot of the Caucasus Mountains in southern Russia. The International Olympic Committee has designated Sochi as the host city of the 2014 Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games. Thanks to this decision, Russia will host its first ever Winter Games, so I'm hoping it's not going to look like a building site when we arrive!
Originally, we had planned to ride north crossing Bulgaria and Romania, as I wanted to visit Bran Castle high in the Carpathian mountains. This is a former residence of Prince Vlad Tepes The Impaler, or Dracula to you and me. But as Geoff is, let's say 'chronologically gifted,' he requested a more southerly route across warmer climes. I had to agree. Although this means we will bypass Georgia, a ferry will at least give us a break from riding and a chance to relax before we take the plunge into Russia. Knowing my luck the ferry will take the plunge into the depths of the Black Sea...ah well in for a penny. (I wonder if that's the name of Rod Stewart's house?)
The ferries across the black sea are a cause for some trepidation, after reading that many of them have been hijacked. But then, we were riding across Georgia around the coast to avoid Chechnya anyway, so either way Sochi was a definite destination. If you believe all that you read, you would think we were motorcycling around the world, when really we will be soaking up the sun in Miami for six months....(did I type that out loud?)

Despite Geoff's favoured pretence at being Tarzan of the concrete jungle, he convinced me to purchase a sat-nav, if only as an excuse for him to unleash his pent up torrent of abuse, usually savoured by fellow technologically advanced citizens of London, blissfully unaware of his suffering at the hands of someones obvious topographical errors on his well worn map. So, I'm now the proud owner of a Garmin Zumo 550, the self proclaimed 'Daddy' of motorcycle sat-navs. It has full coverage of every European country, so at least it will know exactly where we are, but I'm still going to use a map as well until it earns it's trust. Never put all your eggs in one motorcycle pannier. The Zumo can still be of use across Russia, as it has an 'off road' setting, a compass, and many other useful toys. If it helps us to get to far eastern Russia, at least I can say it got my Bering Strait.

Rules are for fools and a guide for the wise

2008-03-22T17:36:00.018Z

The only thing you can influence in life, is what you are about to do. - Alan Kelly

I always wondered why the future seemed to happen to me while I was doing something else. Sedated by endless routine, existing instead of living. Suddenly you're ten years older. If you love life, don't waste time, make it memorable, what else do you have? If you live freely in the moment then time constraints cease to exist. You're not worrying about the past or the future. This is the time of your life.

You cannot be prepared for every eventuality, but we will carry as many spares as we can, some of which are a legal requirement in some countries, and a good first aid kit. We both have basic first aid training but I may have to draw the line at mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. 'See that Bears game last night? Helluva game!' I think it's more important to have a well prepared mind. Panicking at every mishap will invariably lead to the wrong decision. I'm sure if 'Elf & Safety' had anything to do with it, we would be carrying two 750mm direction arrows, a road narrows sign, a minimum of six cones and a 'chimps at work' sign. After filling out the on-site risk assessment, we would have spent twice as long on site as necessary, therefore doubling the risk and more likely needing to fill in a 'near miss' report. Not to mention a full catalogue of 'Mind how you go' equipment. After the Hatfield rail disaster, ridiculous speed limits were introduced to increase safety. Unfortunately passengers arrived home so late most took to commuting by car thus increasing their danger. My personal safety has always been a top priority, especially riding a motorcycle, but I can't understand why we all have to live by stringent rules designed from the lowest common denominator i.e. the thickest idiot. An example from our last 'elf & safety' meeting was to inform us that it gets dark earlier during the winter, and colder so wear warm clothing and eat a good breakfast and lunch. During the summer, daylight lasts longer and due to the warmer temperature you should drink more water! I was still living on Earth last time I checked, so I already know these things! If I was an employer, I would suggest not employing personnel that stupid to greatly reduce the risk to the rest of us in the first place!

I love working on the highways really, even if I have already tendered my resignation, so I can discover where all these roads actually lead. My last day will be Friday 18th April. I've never been out of work before and here I am giving up a perfectly well paid job just so I can ride my bike. No sense? Nonsense!

We will ride during the day, stop at points of interest, eat when we are hungry and sleep when we get tired. If we have a breakdown, then that is simply an unscheduled break. Life happens around you, adjust and go with the flow. Some people will laugh at such foolishness, preferring the comforts of double glazed isolation, soap operas and heated towel rails, but the wise will understand. We all live under the same sky, but our needs are different.

I'm still considering a sat-nav. I've never needed one before but it's benefits are tempting. Maps tend not to list bikers favourite routes, points of interest, pie vendors, or play mp3s. Maybe the extortionate price will actually save us money, rather than relying on our often opposite senses of direction. Should the worst happen, no local pies for example, I feel safer knowing I have our exact position to give to our rescuers. We both think it's a good idea to have one between us, especially if it's me so Geoff gets an opportunity to give me a public stoning, accusing me of selling my soul to witchcraft, and spears are better than shrink wrapped bacon etc. After admitting the real reason for not getting one is insufficient time for him to learn how to use it. I've already got an indestructible waterproof map, but within it's robust design, a distinct lack of 'B' roads, rendering it useless off the beaten track. Besides, Geoff is taking a laptop so it's only fair that I also have a gadget to play with.

If anyone wishes to bid us farewell in person, even if it's hurling abuse or preferably money, you may do so at the Ace Cafe 7pm Monday 21st April, where we will be trying to convince the 'Riders Digest' team the best thing to boost their circulation is to print the 'Poor Circulation' trials and tribulations. Hopefully our Russian visas can be collected before Wednesday 23rd (Details, schmetails) as it is the official start of 'Poor Circulation' leaving St. Teresa's Hospice Darlington at 10am. Onwards and upwards to bonnie Scotland, down to the Lakes for a day or two, Wales for a day or two, then home to iron out any problems. Farleigh Hospice Chelmsford is our last port of call Wednesday 30th April, before our intermediate port of call Folkestone campsite, a favorite of Geoff's, before our first port of call Dover Thursday 1st May, to our second port of call Calais. This is for me, where the journey really begins. Other than an entry and exit date for the Russian visas, June 1st, exiting within ninety days, we have no rigid schedule.

This is what I call freedom.

Deux tartes, s'il vous plait

2008-03-13T19:53:00.018Z

Alcohol, the cause and solution to, all
life's problems. - Homer Simpson
Poor circulation HQ has been the usual hive of inactivity until now. This week we received many deliveries from 'Parcel Marceau' some attempted, some successful and some left with neighbours. We now have most of the things we need, mostly due to the generosity of Frank and Liz at http://www.triumph-online.co.uk/,
Graham at http://www.bykebitz.co.uk/,
David at http://www.motohaus.com/ and http://www.wemoto.com/.

Talk about Christmas come early! They have all saved us a small fortune on spares and accessories for the bikes and their help will go a long way in helping our journey succeed. The further we get the more publicity we can get for them and raise awareness for the Hospices. Every one's a winner!
Geoff is currently pulling his hair out trying to secure the Russian visas, flapping around and cursing like Icarus....while I'm sorting through the boxes of equipment wondering how we can fit it all on the bikes....

We can't carry everything we want on a bike, but we can carry everything we need. That's one of the many reasons why I chose a Triumph Tiger. Not a 1970's Tiger Cub like Ted Simon rode around the world on (read Jupiter's travels) but a 2006 Tiger 955i. It has an excellent carrying capacity, a 24lt fuel tank, over 50mpg and most importantly can accommodate a man of my stature. Few people even realise Triumph are still being manufactured, after being bought by a successful property developer John Bloor in the late 80's, they have been completely re-designed and built in a new state-of -the-art factory in Hinckley, Leicesterchire. That was, until it burnt down. Now after a rebuild, it's the most modern motorcycle factory in the world. 40.000 bikes a year are made, and they are deliberately 'over engineered' to ensure they never leak oil, unlike the original bikes' reputation. The fuel injected triple engine is more reliable than most of the Japanese competition, and even BMW. (more Tigers are sold in Germany than the equivalent BMW) The Tiger is a 'dual purpose' bike, but the later models such as ours, are almost totally road biased. Just like us then. But we can ride off the beaten track if we have to, ideal to recce campsites in the purest 'poorcirculation' style, and that will be a 'trial' in itself. This will prove to be entertaining as we have precious little 'off road' experience. My idea of a dual purpose bike is 'go & stop.'
As for European language barriers, we considered an electronic 'speaking' translator, but over the last few months we have been learning the subtle differences between Geordie and Estuary and seem to be communicating much better now. This is by no means easy, for example Geoff aired his concerns for the environment and concluded he was gangrene due to global warming. Also at the pub known as 'The Lercal' some confusion arose when he asked for 'Two eels, eye.' Then he announced he was losing his sense of humour by saying he was giving up smirking. Small problems, but often overcome by the simple use of universal hand signals which I'm sure, will bode us well across Europe. Russian checkpoints and border crossings may prove more difficult, even if the guards speak English. I doubt they could understand Geoff's pronunciation, and given his penchant for army surplus equipment, drastically increases the likelihood of him being shot on sight. Especially as I've put an MI5 sticker on his back.
However, a picture says a thousand words, so I shall be purchasing a universal picture dictionary. I won't tell Geoff, so he will be suitably impressed at my language prowess. Let the gesticulation commence!

Irony can be pretty ironic sometimes....

2008-03-08T16:25:00.003Z

Apologies for not updating my blog for a while. In my last entry I mentioned that technology is only as reliable as those who design it. Two days later my PC unceremoniously destroyed itself. Fortunately, my Dad has a laptop I can borrow when he's not using it. Not very often then... Only recently had I said how awkward it would be if I lost all my trip planning and contacts, this close to departure. I have learned from previous experience how important it is to backup files regularly onto DVDs. But, I discovered my last backup didn't include the all important 'World trip' file. How I laughed as I discovered a simple 'El Cheapo' power supply, commonly used in bargainous PCs, and specifically designed to break 24hrs after the guarantee runs out. A simple case of transplanting all the useful parts into my older, and much better, hand built PC. Unfortunately this was sold to a friend two weeks earlier, as I needed the money for the trip. This 'friend' still owes me £50.

Against my better judgement, I entered my local PC shop with a view to fixing mine on the cheap. I only need a PC until I leave so it's not worth spending money for something that will have little use, and be obsolete when I return. Needless to say, the shop owner didn't have what I required, couldn't understand how to dismantle the 'pretty' components, allowed me the use of his magnetic (!!) screwdriver, offered a useless alternative and left me to re-assemble it. I was smiling through gritted teeth, but before I could say 'You're incompetent, that's incompatible', my talents were required to fix his 'new fangled Windows Vista' laptop, then explain to him how re-install programs and restore his settings, and even give advice to a customer when he couldn't! How people like him can run a business is beyond me. Honestly, the wheel's still turning but the hamster is dead! Apart from an almost complete sense of humour bypass, I've had a good weekend.

It's frustrating having to rely on other people at the best of times. Computers can be very useful Geoff, just take off your 'Procrastinate Now!' T-shirt and get the bikes rolling mate.

I've learnt the main difference between us two; Geoff says 'I'm sure everything will be fine...'
I say 'I'm making sure everything will be fine...'

I think it's finally dawning on him just how important it is to plan all the little details, now that he can't leave it all to me....

On the plus side, we successfully applied for our International Driving Permits, having to apply in person to Chelmsford main post office as they are the only local office that issues them for some unknown reason. These next few weeks will be busier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but I'm sure everything will be fine....

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

2008-02-21T17:51:00.008Z

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....

2008-02-19T20:12:00.005Z

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....

2008-02-10T18:57:00.006Z

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

2008-02-03T10:32:00.000Z

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.

Now I'm committed, as many people say I should be.

2008-01-30T19:54:00.001Z

I don't know how Geoff finds the time to write these blogs. I'm busier than a one-toothed man at a corn on the cob eating contest. I do know after reading his blog that he obviously has an inferiority complex with my physical stature. It probably started when he first met Mark Wallis 6'4'' and myself 6'6'' at the Motochallenge. Many a time I get asked what the weather is like up there, I'm no meteorologist but I'm sure Mark has his own weather system. If Im 'Herman' he's 'Sherman.' Mark was kind enough to let us sample his culinary skills at his house one weekend. A marvellous chef indeed (unfortunately he obviously keeps those skills to himself too often). Keep the pies warm Mark, for when we collapse on your doorstep looking like illegal immigrants that just fell out of the back of a Parcel Marceau lorry.

Anyway I digress. Geoff informed me that as a way to relieve the guilt of selfishly travelling the world, he would be raising money for St. Teresa's, his local hospice in Darlington. An excellent idea. It was only fair I should do the same for my local hospice in Braintree. Farleigh Hospice is based next to Broomfield hospital in Chelmsford and has two satellites, one in Braintree and Maldon. The Braintree one is closing at the end of March as their lease at the old St. Michael's hospital site is ending. As a result they are starting a scheme called the HOP-Hospice Outreach Project. The first mobile hospice in the country. For information please read this page- http://www.farleighhospice.org/supporting-farleigh-hospice/the-hop.cfm

The total amount we need to raise to purchase and equip this specially designed vehicle is £155,000, with a further £77,000 required for the specialist nursing and healthcare staff needed to operate the HOP and its services for a whole year.
Please sponsor me to help to make this possible!
Thankyou.
http://www.justgiving.com/alankelly1

Pies have a crust, earth has a crust, coincidence? These are some of my favourite things.

2008-01-28T18:48:00.000Z

'It's a small world mate...' I suppose it is if you live in your own small world. Your home, workplace, social circle, maybe the odd holiday in Spain. That's your world. On a tourbus in Ibiza, we were told of a 90yr old lady who lived three miles from the sea, and in all her years, never left the village to see the coastline. The world is huge and I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to experience as much of it as they can.
It's the same with pies, what's the point of having a pie if you can't experience as much as possible? The quest for pie started after Geoff, my brother Steve and I rode our motorcycles to Scotland last year, only to get as far as the Lake District. The village of Boot in Eskdale, just south of the Hardknott Pass, without a doubt has the best steak and ale pie in the country, served in the Boot Inn. If you try it and think you know better then please let us know!
I blame pie for forcing Geoff and I further afield in our quest. He suggested every capitol city in Europe, and I prefered the idea of the U.S.A. You only have to look at the average American to know the pies are good.
Pies aside, (please never let me say that ever again) Geoff noticed a convenient piece of land that almost connects Europe and America. Russia. My pint glass was empty so I raised an eyebrow. After several colourful metaphors were exchanged, I discovered there is actually a road being built across the whole width of Russia. People have crossed it on motorcycles before there was a road (read the book Mondo Enduro) so it should be relatively easy.
I've never been one to do things by half, so that was that, we are going around the world. All we needed was money and two bikes. Simple. I keep a spherical glass paperweight as a reminder to keep things simple. A sphere is the shape that has the smallest surface area compared to its volume. It requires the least amount of energy to form. A perfect minimal surface structure. Just like the Earth itself. Nature often does things the easy way or by seeking the lowest energy level. Just like most bikers I know. We are riding our bikes in a full circle. The circle of life. It all ties up nicely like a Scooby Doo ending.

If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand.

2008-01-26T21:41:00.000Z

Those black clouds look ominous, I hope they aren't...too late, hailstones large enough to sting through my leathers. To be in England in the summertime... A quick glance at the clocks caked in ice begged the question, 'Why am I doing this?' I was on my way to Santa Pod raceway on my Triumph speed triple to begin Nick sanders Motochallenge 2004. I must be mad. On the contrary, I said to myself. Happiness is all about finding the right balance. A motorcycle is the perfect example of balance. Balance to stay upright, between pleasure and pain, between sane and insane. It doesn't matter what life throws at you, there is no better way of experiencing life than on a fast motorcycle. So many people assume bikers must have a death wish. The exact opposite is true. We are well aware of our mortality. We experience the environment first hand, most car drivers are aware of nothing. When you're alone inside your head on a motorcycle, it only takes a few minutes to remind yourself that however mundane life can get, it is glorious. That was why I spent the next eight days travelling nearly 3000 miles around Britain with a group of like-minded motorcyclists.
The Motochallenge of Great Britain was organised (for 'organised' read 'chaos') by the fastest man around the world on a motorcycle Nick Sanders. It was like a treasure hunt without the treasure, incorporating drag racing, hill climbing and short circuit racing. I was fortunate enough on the first 'organised' day to get lost with Mark Wallis, who enjoyed a laugh as much as a pie, his laughter lines and waistline proves my theory, Lee Crahart whose bike was as unsuitable for touring as mine, (we both adopted the idea of follow someone and blame them when we got lost,) and Geoff Thomas, who lived only two miles from me and being avoided by most because as a courier, we concluded he must ride like a nutter. Geoff had proudly visited as many Hein Gericke stores on his way to Santa Pod, gaining as many points as possible, without realising this was unneccesary. The idea was dropped after the first motochallenge of 2003. His competitive efforts were admirable. As were his efforts to ask everyone if they would be so kind as to extract themselves from his immediate vicinity. I concluded this bloke could prove to be a rich source of mirth, and to this day, still is.