First thing to do on waking was to check the bikes which had been left parked overnight outside the front of the hotel.We had paid a guard to keep an eye on them all night and Roger had risen early and found the guard watching over the bikes. So I was a little disappointed to find someone had fiddled with my seat and tank bag mounts but nothing was missing or damaged. After breakfast, two taxis were ordered to take us to the Mauritanian Embassy to apply for our visas. There were numerous purposeful looking overland vehicles parked up and down the street and a crowd of at least 20 people when we arrived just after 9.00 am. Apparently, the officials had opened the doors at 9.00 am, handed out the required forms to the waiting xcrowd and promptly locked the door again? At least half an hour later the process was repeated and this time I grabbed 7 forms in the scrumage to enable all our group to start completing them. Once all forms were completed we formed an orderly queue in typically British fashion. However, once the door was opened a fez inches there was a rush forward like Sales Day at Harrods as everyone pushed in and none of our crew were successful in getting inside. Lessons learned, we regrouped for round 2 with Roger and myself in pole position and with a firmer attitude. At the second attempt, we succeeded in getting past the burly "bouncer"controlling access. The clerk behind the glass window was a miserable looking character who merely grunted the minimum amount of words needed to perform his task; "Passport, Photocopy of Passport, 340 Dirhams". Damn, I had left my copy of my passport back at the hotel with all my copy documents. So when the demands were were fired at me I told him that Ihad a copy back at my hotel and would bring it when I came to collect the completed visa. I was stunned when he agreed to this, took my money and issued the receipt. We advised the other riders to tell the same story and that he only accepted Dirhams and not Euros. He then left his small office and came around to tell Roger and myself not to talk to th eothers as we had already been processed and that we must leave the area.
We immediately left and walked to a nearby bank to withdraw some more Dirhams. But first we had to cross the busy road. In theory, there are 2 lanes in each direction but in reality of Rabat there are up to 5 lanes on each side as drivers try to squeeze up as much as possible. It looks like total chaos but it actually seems to work and the traffic seems to keep constantly moving. Which is great until you take your mife in your hands and attempt to cross it. Roger and I agreed that it would be tragic to survive over 2,000 miles of riding and then be run over crossing the road. The prospect of being in an African hospital did not appeal either so we walked further down the road to a set of traffic lights in the mistaken belief that might make it easier to cross. Once safely across, we got our cash out of the hole in the wall machine and then had to cross back.
We flagged down local blue taxis for the return trip to the hotel and the fare was one fifth of the outbound fare.
John and I consulted my Berlitz guide to Morocco and wanted to explore the old part of the town on the hill. Grabbing a local taxi, he took us to the Medina across town for a very reasonable GBP2. Not long after entering the maze of the Medina, we were aproached by a local guide, John and I both agreed that we were prepared to pay for a guide to get the most out of out visit and this pleasant chap spoke excellent English. He led us around the narrow streets and pointed out all the points of interest including the vast Muslim cemetry besdie the seashore. After luch came the call to prayer and he abruptly ended the tour. I offered him the equivelent of GBP 10 for his 20 minute guide but he stunned us by demending GBP40. I made it clear he was not getting another penny out of me so he turned his attention to John who agreed to double my stake up to GBP20 or 200 Dirhams. Unfortunately, John only had a 200 Dirham note and there was no way on earth he was going to get any change from this shark. The guide then hurried off to his mosque no doubt to give thanks to the prophets/profits.
We wandered down and found a pleasant cafe to have cakes, mint tea and the strongest coffee I have ever seen. The bottom half of the glass was solid tar but it tasted surprisingly good.
Below this area was a wonderful souk that catered mainly for locals with just a few selling tourist related merchandise. John was able to source an Ipod charger to replace one damaged in Spain when he had a minor electrical fault. Further down this fascinating street there was a beautiful aroma of frying fish. A corner stall was doing a brisk trade selling freshly fried fish in traditional Moroccan bread with an assortment of vegetables. They were absolutely delicious and very cheap. You really could find everything under the sun for sale in these streets from food, clothing, electrical goods to tortoise. I was intrigued by the two boxes of tortoise for sale, one with what I assumed were fully grown ones and the other with very small young ones. I stopped to take photos of these and the stallholder noticed my interest and came over. H ethen opened a large box filled with dozens of baby chamelions. Not something you see at ASDA.
We took a taxi back to the hotel where teh others had just arrived with their completed visas. John and I jumped in yet another taxi and sped around to the Embassy to collect ours before they closed. We kept the taxi waiting as we ran into the embassy and got our passports complete with the all important visa. Back in the taxi I quickly check my visa and found they had made two mistakes, the dates were wrong and it only allowed single entry whereas I would need two entries to allow me to ride back north again. I asked the taxi driver do do a quick U turn back to the Embassy where I tried to explain the errors to a bored and disinterested official who simply told me to come back tomorrow and buy another one. I was not happy but I had no other option.
Once back at the hotel; I told the others that I would be delayed in the moring and Andres very kindly agreed to stay behind and then ride down with me to Marrakesh.
In the evening, all 8 of us walked to the Kasbar and found a marvellous authentic Moroccan restaurant where we enjoyed the traditional Moroccan dish of tagine (or "tangine" as some called it) which is a piping hot stew with a choice of flavours:
Overall an excellent day enjoying the experience of Morocco.
Friday 29 January 2010
Thursday 28 January 2010
DAY 13 TUESDAY 19TH JAN 2010
Finally, we have made it across on to African soil. Mileage reads 36,405 dock side in Tangier. Ferry took longer than expected then had to wait outside port for a berth to become available. You can feel the tingle of Africa immediately you land, the hussle of the locals trying to sell you the vehicle immigration forms that are available for free if you know where and who to ask. We were pounced on by these "helpful" locals offering us both the forms and assistance with co,pleting them. We politely declined as we were determined to enter the country without paying any backhanders to anyone. We had a very long wait before clearing customs but that gave me time to write up thge blog. After semmingly an hour of nothing happening I went to the customs office to find out how our papers were progressing. The Immigration process is the most inefficient imaginable. One man sits at an ancient PC which runs what looks like 20 year old DOS based software, where he very slowly single finger types the details of every person and every vehicle entering the country. I watched this process for half an hour not knowing whether to laugh or cry. A couple of weeks later this system would look a model of efficiency compared with what we later encoutered.
The process dragged on and on but I managed to obtain the papers for myself, John and Andres, all of whom had visited Morocco previously and therefore our details were already on the national police database. The others being first timers to Morocco had yet more forms to fill in more we could leave the docks.
It was decided to split into 2 groups of 4 riders rather than one of 8 which would be too difficult to keep together in Moroccan traffic. Our group comprising of me, John, Glen and Andres set off first out of Tangier taking care to adhere strictly to the speed limits which were rigorously enforced every fez miles on the main roads. There were a few surprises riding on Moroccan roads as they don't have the same Health & Safety concerns we have in the UK. Where workmen were working on the xentral reservation, they left they wheelbarrows unmarked in the outside lane!
Shortly after, we needed to syop for fuel for the bikes and lunch for ourselves. Despite the petrol station having a large sign saying "Cartes de Credit" they refused to accept our credit cards and insisted on cash only. The waiter in the nearby restaurant was friendly and spoke fluent English which he was pleased to use to welcome us to his country. We had some local speciality bread together with various cheeses and jams. I made a complete idiot of myself when he asked me what I wanted in the bread and I replied "Ham". In a Muslim country§ Luckily, I didn't ask for a bacon sandwich to follow.
Just over 120 miles later we entered Rabat where we needed to go to get our visas for Mauritania. By now it was gone 5.00 pm and the embassy would be closed but we wanted to locate its position for the following morning. Disappointingly, our satnavs only work partially in Africa, it can tell you where you are and where you want to get to but not how to get there as it does not have the road network in its memory. Timing wise, the rush hour in a Moroccan town is not the best time to be on the road. The driving standards are horrendous with frequent minor bumps considered the norm. On any gradient, various vehicles will roll back and collide with the vehicle behind which is especially scary when the vehicle in front is a large tipper truck and you are on a motorbike. At one junction an old Merc rolled back into another Merc leaving me trapped dangerously close to a truck which had started to move forwards. I sounded my horn to warn the dozy driver and he became irrate with me for hooting at him. He moved forwards but then deliberately swerved directly at me to try to knock me off my bike. I took immediate avoiding action then retaliated by aiming a steel toe capped boot at his rear door before disappearing through a gap in the traffic. Welcome to African driving standards.
The first hotel we found was full as was the second. We realised that it was getting late and we needed to find rooms as soon as possible. Andres and Glen sped away to the next hotel as soon as John had confirmed that the one he had just tried was also full. We soon lost them in the dense manic traffic and I was beginning to worry that we would not find a room and I was getting very hot in my riding gear. My main concern now was simply staying together with John as I didn't want to be alone in this situation. Whilst we were stuck in this awful traffic, two young kids on a 50cc scooter came alongside. In my best French, I asked the young rider (he looked about 12), if he could lead us to an available hotel. He consulted with his equally young pillion friend and confirmed he was willing to help us. Of course, on his tiny narrow scooter he could cut through the smallest of gaps denied to us on our heavily loaded bikes with wide panniers, although I managed to scrape through (sometimes literally) some very small gaps. He proudly deposited us outside a good looking hotel but I asked him to wait incase it was full. And of course, it was full as well so we were becoming increasingly desperate. Our young guides thought quickly and soon we were wizzing through the traffic to yet another hotel. By now, I was resigned to being told ever hotel was full so it was a reaction of surprise and delight to be told they had rooms available. I rushed outside to tell John this good nezs but he was on the phone to Andres who in formed him that he had booked us into a hotel back on the other side of town. Only problem was we had no way of finding this other hotel without the help of our young frinds again and again agreed to help. As we rode through the traffic a policeman tried to stop them, presumably for riding underage and riding with no crash helmets on! I signalled to the policeman that they were with us and they were OK. It was only later that I thought about how I would feel if anything untoward happened to these two kids. When they deposited us at the final hotel they went to ride off before we could even thank them. We both gave them the equivalent of a few pounds and they were genuinely surprised as they had been willing to help us for no reward.
I don't think I have ever been more relived to get out of my hot biking gear and have a much needed shower. Amazingly, a couple of British bikers we met at the motorwat services were also staying at the same hotel. Even more surprising was that the other group also found their way to our hotel so we were all together in one place again.
The hotel bar was a wonderful tiny smoky windowless dimly lit den with shady characters hiding in the shadows. One such character struck up a conversation with Andres and proclaimed him to be his best friend as he alledgedly loved the British so much. We were naturally suspicious of this instant friendship but again he proved to be totally genuine and had no alterior motive. After he had bought three of us beers we got it out of him that he was the owner of a nearby restaurant. We offered to dine at his restaurant but he never did give us the address. Instead we found a cheap local cafe round the corner where we had half chicken and chips with soft drink for about GBP 5.
The process dragged on and on but I managed to obtain the papers for myself, John and Andres, all of whom had visited Morocco previously and therefore our details were already on the national police database. The others being first timers to Morocco had yet more forms to fill in more we could leave the docks.
It was decided to split into 2 groups of 4 riders rather than one of 8 which would be too difficult to keep together in Moroccan traffic. Our group comprising of me, John, Glen and Andres set off first out of Tangier taking care to adhere strictly to the speed limits which were rigorously enforced every fez miles on the main roads. There were a few surprises riding on Moroccan roads as they don't have the same Health & Safety concerns we have in the UK. Where workmen were working on the xentral reservation, they left they wheelbarrows unmarked in the outside lane!
Shortly after, we needed to syop for fuel for the bikes and lunch for ourselves. Despite the petrol station having a large sign saying "Cartes de Credit" they refused to accept our credit cards and insisted on cash only. The waiter in the nearby restaurant was friendly and spoke fluent English which he was pleased to use to welcome us to his country. We had some local speciality bread together with various cheeses and jams. I made a complete idiot of myself when he asked me what I wanted in the bread and I replied "Ham". In a Muslim country§ Luckily, I didn't ask for a bacon sandwich to follow.
Just over 120 miles later we entered Rabat where we needed to go to get our visas for Mauritania. By now it was gone 5.00 pm and the embassy would be closed but we wanted to locate its position for the following morning. Disappointingly, our satnavs only work partially in Africa, it can tell you where you are and where you want to get to but not how to get there as it does not have the road network in its memory. Timing wise, the rush hour in a Moroccan town is not the best time to be on the road. The driving standards are horrendous with frequent minor bumps considered the norm. On any gradient, various vehicles will roll back and collide with the vehicle behind which is especially scary when the vehicle in front is a large tipper truck and you are on a motorbike. At one junction an old Merc rolled back into another Merc leaving me trapped dangerously close to a truck which had started to move forwards. I sounded my horn to warn the dozy driver and he became irrate with me for hooting at him. He moved forwards but then deliberately swerved directly at me to try to knock me off my bike. I took immediate avoiding action then retaliated by aiming a steel toe capped boot at his rear door before disappearing through a gap in the traffic. Welcome to African driving standards.
The first hotel we found was full as was the second. We realised that it was getting late and we needed to find rooms as soon as possible. Andres and Glen sped away to the next hotel as soon as John had confirmed that the one he had just tried was also full. We soon lost them in the dense manic traffic and I was beginning to worry that we would not find a room and I was getting very hot in my riding gear. My main concern now was simply staying together with John as I didn't want to be alone in this situation. Whilst we were stuck in this awful traffic, two young kids on a 50cc scooter came alongside. In my best French, I asked the young rider (he looked about 12), if he could lead us to an available hotel. He consulted with his equally young pillion friend and confirmed he was willing to help us. Of course, on his tiny narrow scooter he could cut through the smallest of gaps denied to us on our heavily loaded bikes with wide panniers, although I managed to scrape through (sometimes literally) some very small gaps. He proudly deposited us outside a good looking hotel but I asked him to wait incase it was full. And of course, it was full as well so we were becoming increasingly desperate. Our young guides thought quickly and soon we were wizzing through the traffic to yet another hotel. By now, I was resigned to being told ever hotel was full so it was a reaction of surprise and delight to be told they had rooms available. I rushed outside to tell John this good nezs but he was on the phone to Andres who in formed him that he had booked us into a hotel back on the other side of town. Only problem was we had no way of finding this other hotel without the help of our young frinds again and again agreed to help. As we rode through the traffic a policeman tried to stop them, presumably for riding underage and riding with no crash helmets on! I signalled to the policeman that they were with us and they were OK. It was only later that I thought about how I would feel if anything untoward happened to these two kids. When they deposited us at the final hotel they went to ride off before we could even thank them. We both gave them the equivalent of a few pounds and they were genuinely surprised as they had been willing to help us for no reward.
I don't think I have ever been more relived to get out of my hot biking gear and have a much needed shower. Amazingly, a couple of British bikers we met at the motorwat services were also staying at the same hotel. Even more surprising was that the other group also found their way to our hotel so we were all together in one place again.
The hotel bar was a wonderful tiny smoky windowless dimly lit den with shady characters hiding in the shadows. One such character struck up a conversation with Andres and proclaimed him to be his best friend as he alledgedly loved the British so much. We were naturally suspicious of this instant friendship but again he proved to be totally genuine and had no alterior motive. After he had bought three of us beers we got it out of him that he was the owner of a nearby restaurant. We offered to dine at his restaurant but he never did give us the address. Instead we found a cheap local cafe round the corner where we had half chicken and chips with soft drink for about GBP 5.
DAY 12 MONDAY 18TH JAN 2010
This morning, for the first time ever, I was first down for breakfast. We wanted an early start to get to the tyre fitter and be ready as soon as he opened. Monday morning for Spaniards obviously doesn't start until 10.30 am when the owner of the Ducati and Harley dealer rolled up for work. His tyre changing equipment consisted of a blanket to go on the ground, two tyre levers, two blocks of wood, a manual press to break the beads and a compressor. When another Spanish customer asked why he didn't have any automated hydraulic machinery he replied "That is for cissies. Real men change tyres by hand". Unfortunately, our real man worked at typical Spanish speed in which the term "glacial" is considered rushed. After an hour and a half he had managed to change 3 tyres out of the 10 required. At this point we realised that this tyre changing task was going to take considerably longer than originally anticipated. It was decided to do the tyres first for the riders who still had to sort out their couriers for parcels home of winter riding gear that was no longer required. As the other riders are planning to fly their bikes back from The Gambia, they have no further use of the thick heavy winter wear that was essential for the first week of this trip. It therefore made much more sense to package it all up and send it home rather than have the weight and bulk of carrying it through Africa.
In contrast, I intend to ride back on my own own and return through Spain and France at the end of February so I will need all my gear. It was only later that I thought that I should have left my gear at this hotel in Spain to collect on my return journey but I never thought of that at the time.
We tried to hurry up our tyre fitter buy staning over him and even assisting in the task to keep him working. Eventually at around 2.00 pm the last tyre was fitted and we were away. The riders who needed the courier service had returned to the hotel to arrange this. I stopped off to get some cash on the way back and then returned to the hotel. Unfortunately, they had not been able to arrange the courier so we would have to stay over another night and not get the ferry until Tuesday. I wad bitterly disappointed as I was impatient to get over to Morocco. To add further insult to injury, the hotel moved us to inferior rooms which did little to improve my mood. After writing up my blog for an hour I had chilled out enough to enjoy a game of crazy golf with John, Glen and Andres. Despite claiming to have never held a golf club before, Andres managed to claim overall honours whilst I trailed in last place which obliged me to buy the next round at the 19th hole, the hotel bar.
When Roger and the other returned they advised that they had negotiated a good deal on the ferry crossing and had booked on to the 8.30 am sailing the following morning.
The buffet dinner at the hotel was again excellent and I could smell the fish soup before I entered the restaurant. Another mmod lifter for me so by the end of the meal I was chilled and relaxed and decided on a very early night before our moring crossing.
In contrast, I intend to ride back on my own own and return through Spain and France at the end of February so I will need all my gear. It was only later that I thought that I should have left my gear at this hotel in Spain to collect on my return journey but I never thought of that at the time.
We tried to hurry up our tyre fitter buy staning over him and even assisting in the task to keep him working. Eventually at around 2.00 pm the last tyre was fitted and we were away. The riders who needed the courier service had returned to the hotel to arrange this. I stopped off to get some cash on the way back and then returned to the hotel. Unfortunately, they had not been able to arrange the courier so we would have to stay over another night and not get the ferry until Tuesday. I wad bitterly disappointed as I was impatient to get over to Morocco. To add further insult to injury, the hotel moved us to inferior rooms which did little to improve my mood. After writing up my blog for an hour I had chilled out enough to enjoy a game of crazy golf with John, Glen and Andres. Despite claiming to have never held a golf club before, Andres managed to claim overall honours whilst I trailed in last place which obliged me to buy the next round at the 19th hole, the hotel bar.
When Roger and the other returned they advised that they had negotiated a good deal on the ferry crossing and had booked on to the 8.30 am sailing the following morning.
The buffet dinner at the hotel was again excellent and I could smell the fish soup before I entered the restaurant. Another mmod lifter for me so by the end of the meal I was chilled and relaxed and decided on a very early night before our moring crossing.
Sunday 24 January 2010
DAY 11 SUNDAY 17TH JANUARY 2010
Rest day in Algercias. Woke at 7.00 am then again at 10.29am when little Spanish maid opened door to clean room. Realised that breakfast finished in one minute so waited for maid to close door before springing out of bed, getting dressed and flying down 2 flights of steps to enter breakfast room just as elderly waitress was starting to clear all the breakfast choices on to her large trolley. She looked irritated as I helped myself to things as she raced around clearing up. It was like a "2 minute supermarket trolloy dash" with her trying to clear things and me trying to grab them for my plate. The waiters found it amusing and were happy to hand me knife, fork, spoon and coffee cup as I raced around.
Out in the hotel car park all the other guys were fettling their bikes with a few minor issues being attended to. Different people wanted different things today so we split up. Glen set off on his own to ride up to Ronda, with John and Andres following him shortly afterwards. Apparently this is a spectactular road and a wonderful town with awe inspiring views into deep gorges cut by the river over millions of years. The remainder of the group being myself, Gert, Bhud and Mikey decided on a gentle cruise up the coast to Gibraltar. Being originally from Jersey I felt a certain affinity with the inhabitants of Gibraltar with it being a fellow Crown Dependancy. Some say Gibraltar is even more British than Britain itself these days as it seems trapped in a timewarp and appears more like Britain was in previous generations. Unfortunately, with it being Sunday, nearly everywhere was closed, again just like Britain in years gone by and unlike the current 24/7 culture. In the shop windows we noticed how cheap the alcohol was with Smirnoff Vodka at GBP7.50 and Bombay Saphire Gin at GBP 10.50 for 1 litre. You would have to go back a long way in the UK to find those prices.
We parked in the free motorcycle parking at Morrisons so popped in to buy a few things. It was a weird culture shock to suddenly be completely back in England! Even the staff looked and sounded the same as back home.
Leaving the supermarket we followed the road around the coast including some interestingly little tunnels. I couldn't resist reving my noisy bike in the tunnels which made one small child scream. At the southern tip near the lighthouse we found possibly the world's oldest ice-cream-man who looked at least 80. In typical British fashion, we all had a "99 with flake".
From the vieving area we had a panoramic view across the sea to Morocco. We hoped that soon we would be across the sea and on to the continent of Africa and leaving Europe behind. We tried to ride to the top of the rock but there was a barrier across the road and they wanted an extortionate GBP12.50 each to ride past. The bikes were turned around rather than pay GBP 50 for 4 bikes. We later discovered from John that had we attempted the same route a couple of hours later then there would have been no charge. Early night for most of us in anticipation of big day tomorrow when we should finally get to Morocco.
Out in the hotel car park all the other guys were fettling their bikes with a few minor issues being attended to. Different people wanted different things today so we split up. Glen set off on his own to ride up to Ronda, with John and Andres following him shortly afterwards. Apparently this is a spectactular road and a wonderful town with awe inspiring views into deep gorges cut by the river over millions of years. The remainder of the group being myself, Gert, Bhud and Mikey decided on a gentle cruise up the coast to Gibraltar. Being originally from Jersey I felt a certain affinity with the inhabitants of Gibraltar with it being a fellow Crown Dependancy. Some say Gibraltar is even more British than Britain itself these days as it seems trapped in a timewarp and appears more like Britain was in previous generations. Unfortunately, with it being Sunday, nearly everywhere was closed, again just like Britain in years gone by and unlike the current 24/7 culture. In the shop windows we noticed how cheap the alcohol was with Smirnoff Vodka at GBP7.50 and Bombay Saphire Gin at GBP 10.50 for 1 litre. You would have to go back a long way in the UK to find those prices.
We parked in the free motorcycle parking at Morrisons so popped in to buy a few things. It was a weird culture shock to suddenly be completely back in England! Even the staff looked and sounded the same as back home.
Leaving the supermarket we followed the road around the coast including some interestingly little tunnels. I couldn't resist reving my noisy bike in the tunnels which made one small child scream. At the southern tip near the lighthouse we found possibly the world's oldest ice-cream-man who looked at least 80. In typical British fashion, we all had a "99 with flake".
From the vieving area we had a panoramic view across the sea to Morocco. We hoped that soon we would be across the sea and on to the continent of Africa and leaving Europe behind. We tried to ride to the top of the rock but there was a barrier across the road and they wanted an extortionate GBP12.50 each to ride past. The bikes were turned around rather than pay GBP 50 for 4 bikes. We later discovered from John that had we attempted the same route a couple of hours later then there would have been no charge. Early night for most of us in anticipation of big day tomorrow when we should finally get to Morocco.
Saturday 16 January 2010
DAY 10 SATURDAY 16TH JANUARY 2010
GRANADE TO ALGERCIAS
Woke in time for breakfast today and ready to do some riding again. Bikes were loaded quickly and everyone was ready to leave. The procedure seems to be that six of us all get completely ready to go and only then does Roger start to put on his helmet and gloves...
The road out of Granada was a revelation, no snow, no ice, no rain and no vicious cross winds. Just pure riding pleasure on lovely roads with spectacular scenery in warm weather. This morning the thick winter gloves gave way to the thin summer gloves.
Another first for me was riding a bike whilst listening to an Ipod. My son Martin gave me an Ipod for Christmas and loaded all my favourite songs on to it. At the NEC Bike Show in early December I had ordered a set of custom made in-ear moulded speakers to come from USA. These arrived a couple of days before we left leaving no time to test them out. So the speakers and the Ipod were used for the first time as we left Granada. It is fair to say that I have a rather diverse taste in music with the range of artists going from Chas & Dave, Meatloaf, Susan Boyle, Dr Hook, Leona Lewis, Def Leppard, Beautiful South, Ian Drury, Jim Steinman to Queen. I put it on shuffle to get a random selection from that lot and it picked Meatloaf´s "Bat Out Of Hell" as we rode out of town. It was fun listening to the opening notes of each song and trying to guess both the artist and the track. Perhaps the greatest musical contrast was listening to Ian Drury and The Blockheads sing about "Sticky Vicky from Billericy" (apparently well known to Roger!) and then having Susan Boyle´s rendition of "Amazing Grace". The other riders expressed surprise at my tastes in music but I loved the variety.
The time seemed to pass much quicker today with the music and the varied scenery. On the left hand coastal side of the motorway is the hideous concrete overdevelopment such as Malaga whereas on the right hand side is a stunning mountain range.
Before we knew it, we were entering Algercias, the gateway to Africa at the southern tip of Spain having just passed Gibraltar. Glen was waiting for us at the hotel entrance to take photos of us all arriving.
Finally, after 10 days and just over 2,000 miles riding, the Calum´s Road crew were all together in one location. After swiftly unloading the bikes we checked into our massive rooms and changed into our shorts and sandals as we were in definite "summer mode" now. We were amazed to see there was a log fire burning in the hotel reception on what we would be happy to call a good summers day. It was then time to relax on the patio where Glen had kindly already arranged beers for us. From the hotel garden we could see numerous ships passing through the Straits of Gibraltar and the ferries going back and forth between Spain and Morocco. Soon we would be aboard one of those ferries but first we had to arrange to have our off-road tyres fitted. I rode around town trying to find a suitable tyre fitter but everywhere apparently closes early on a Saturday and doesn´t open again until Monday. Oh dear, it looks like we will have to have yet another rest day. If you have been following this blog since the start you may have noticed that recently we seem to ride for one day then rest for one day. At this pace it might take us a while to reach Calum´s Road but we have plenty of slack built into the timetable.
After the beers (or a few Vodkas in Roger´s case) we all set about giving the bikes a good once-over. Mikey needed to fit a new fuel filler cap which had been sent to the hotel especially. Roger decided to do an oil change on his old "airhead" BMW but we are sworn to secrecy about exactly how he disposed of the old waste oil!
From now on, once we cross to Africa, the blog will not be updated on the same day as we do not wish to disclose our exact location. I will of course continue to write up my notes but in future they will be a few days behind our actual location and may also depend on the availability of internet connection.
The real adventure begins here.
Thanks again to everyone who has donated to the www.justgiving.com/sidhorman link. It is great to see donations coming in whilst on the road and it is much appreciated.
Woke in time for breakfast today and ready to do some riding again. Bikes were loaded quickly and everyone was ready to leave. The procedure seems to be that six of us all get completely ready to go and only then does Roger start to put on his helmet and gloves...
The road out of Granada was a revelation, no snow, no ice, no rain and no vicious cross winds. Just pure riding pleasure on lovely roads with spectacular scenery in warm weather. This morning the thick winter gloves gave way to the thin summer gloves.
Another first for me was riding a bike whilst listening to an Ipod. My son Martin gave me an Ipod for Christmas and loaded all my favourite songs on to it. At the NEC Bike Show in early December I had ordered a set of custom made in-ear moulded speakers to come from USA. These arrived a couple of days before we left leaving no time to test them out. So the speakers and the Ipod were used for the first time as we left Granada. It is fair to say that I have a rather diverse taste in music with the range of artists going from Chas & Dave, Meatloaf, Susan Boyle, Dr Hook, Leona Lewis, Def Leppard, Beautiful South, Ian Drury, Jim Steinman to Queen. I put it on shuffle to get a random selection from that lot and it picked Meatloaf´s "Bat Out Of Hell" as we rode out of town. It was fun listening to the opening notes of each song and trying to guess both the artist and the track. Perhaps the greatest musical contrast was listening to Ian Drury and The Blockheads sing about "Sticky Vicky from Billericy" (apparently well known to Roger!) and then having Susan Boyle´s rendition of "Amazing Grace". The other riders expressed surprise at my tastes in music but I loved the variety.
The time seemed to pass much quicker today with the music and the varied scenery. On the left hand coastal side of the motorway is the hideous concrete overdevelopment such as Malaga whereas on the right hand side is a stunning mountain range.
Before we knew it, we were entering Algercias, the gateway to Africa at the southern tip of Spain having just passed Gibraltar. Glen was waiting for us at the hotel entrance to take photos of us all arriving.
Finally, after 10 days and just over 2,000 miles riding, the Calum´s Road crew were all together in one location. After swiftly unloading the bikes we checked into our massive rooms and changed into our shorts and sandals as we were in definite "summer mode" now. We were amazed to see there was a log fire burning in the hotel reception on what we would be happy to call a good summers day. It was then time to relax on the patio where Glen had kindly already arranged beers for us. From the hotel garden we could see numerous ships passing through the Straits of Gibraltar and the ferries going back and forth between Spain and Morocco. Soon we would be aboard one of those ferries but first we had to arrange to have our off-road tyres fitted. I rode around town trying to find a suitable tyre fitter but everywhere apparently closes early on a Saturday and doesn´t open again until Monday. Oh dear, it looks like we will have to have yet another rest day. If you have been following this blog since the start you may have noticed that recently we seem to ride for one day then rest for one day. At this pace it might take us a while to reach Calum´s Road but we have plenty of slack built into the timetable.
After the beers (or a few Vodkas in Roger´s case) we all set about giving the bikes a good once-over. Mikey needed to fit a new fuel filler cap which had been sent to the hotel especially. Roger decided to do an oil change on his old "airhead" BMW but we are sworn to secrecy about exactly how he disposed of the old waste oil!
From now on, once we cross to Africa, the blog will not be updated on the same day as we do not wish to disclose our exact location. I will of course continue to write up my notes but in future they will be a few days behind our actual location and may also depend on the availability of internet connection.
The real adventure begins here.
Thanks again to everyone who has donated to the www.justgiving.com/sidhorman link. It is great to see donations coming in whilst on the road and it is much appreciated.
DAY 9 FRIDAY 15TH JANUARY 2010
REST DAY IN GRANADA
Zero mileage again today. I was shattered after yesterday ride in the strong cross winds. Didn´t wake up until 11.00 am so missed breakfast. Group meeting at lunchtime to arrange everything for Richard with travel and medical insurance.
Went for walk around Granada, it is a beautiful city. Found nice little authentic bar behind the cathedral in the old part of the town which served tasty parma ham sandwiches.
In the evening, four of the other guys went to see Richard in hospital and he appeared to be in good spirits although that may have been the result of all the morphine they gave him after an operation to pin his ankle.
No much else to report on today but we hope to move on to Algercias on Saturday now that we know Richard and his bike are both being taken care of.
Zero mileage again today. I was shattered after yesterday ride in the strong cross winds. Didn´t wake up until 11.00 am so missed breakfast. Group meeting at lunchtime to arrange everything for Richard with travel and medical insurance.
Went for walk around Granada, it is a beautiful city. Found nice little authentic bar behind the cathedral in the old part of the town which served tasty parma ham sandwiches.
In the evening, four of the other guys went to see Richard in hospital and he appeared to be in good spirits although that may have been the result of all the morphine they gave him after an operation to pin his ankle.
No much else to report on today but we hope to move on to Algercias on Saturday now that we know Richard and his bike are both being taken care of.
Friday 15 January 2010
DAY 8 THURSADAY 14TH JANUARY 2010
BENIDORM TO GRANADA
Didn´t sleep well last night due to hotel room being too hot. The hotel had set the entire interior temperature to cater for their elderly winter guests. While this was was comfortable for the old folks it was uncomfortable for us hardened bikes who were more aclimatised to the sub zero temperatures of the UK and Northern France.
As soon as we were all dressed up in our bike gear, we couldn´t wait to get outside into the fresh morning air. Now a group of 7, we set off from Benidorm and immediately joined the motorway south. For the first time since last summer, I was actually warm whilst riding a bike. This made me realise why I actually ride a bike, because it is fun!
The fine weather did not last however and soon we were subjected to vicious cross winds so strong it would blow us across the two lanes of the motorway. Passing large trucks became "interesting" as they offered a very temporary reprieve from leaning the bike against the wind but it struck back with a vengeance once you came level with the front of the truck. You had to time it precisely to steer into the wind, too early and you would swerve towards the truck, too late and you got blown towards the central reservations.
In addition to these severe winds we then had to cope with driving rain as well making visability difficult. In some ways this was the worst of the riding conditions that we had encountered.
By the time we finally arrived in Grenada, we were all shattered from the efforts of riding and just wanted to find a decent hotel. We found a small bar to use as our base whilst we checked out the surrounding area. Andres knew central Grenada but since his last visit the city had introduced more one-way systems and pedestrianised areas so it was easier to search for a hotel on foot. The bar owner looked unimpressed as we spread out our dripping wet bike gear which caused puddles of water on his highly polished wooden floor. But as long as we were spending money, he was happy enough.
Whilst we were laughing and joking in the bar. Roger took a phone cal from Richard, who was the last member of our group to join us. He was due to be joining us here in Grenada having ridden down from Madrid this morning. Roger suddenly shouted for all of us to be very quiet as he was struggling to hear Richard on the phone but that something serious had happened. Richard had just informed Roger that he was phoning him from a nearby supermarket carpark but that he was stuck under his bike and may have a broken leg!" At first Roger thought it was a joke but quickly realised that Richard was serious. We managed to get the location of the carpark and immediately set about a plan to help him. Andres as the only Spanish speaker was immediately despatched along with Bhud who was competent with the satnav to locate Richard and find his way back to the bar.
As soon as Andres and Bhud arrived at the supermarket, they phoned to tell us that Richard had already been taken to hospital by ambulance. The local police were extremely helpful and professional and helped sort out Richard´s bike and marked on the satnav the precise location of the hospital. Andres rode off to the hospital to find out more details whilst Bhud stayed with Richard´s bike. We now needed to get Richard´s relatively undamaged bike recovered back to our hotel for safe storage. It was decided that I was best suited to ride Ricard´s bike as I rode a similar model whereas all of the other riders rode the later lighter machines. I of course agreed to help even though it meant a pillion ride across town on the back of another bike to get there. Like many experienced motorcyclists, I do not like to go pillion on another bike as I hate the feeling of not being in control. I need not have worried as Gert who carried me across town was an incredibly smooth rider and we were soon at the carpark where we found Bhud and the bike. Richard had originally planned to ride down all the way to South Africa and back up the Eastern side so he was carrying a substantial amout of gear on his bike. We unloaded some of the gear and spread the weight on to Gert´s and Bhuds bikes. I gave Richard´s bike a good check over as I was nervous of riding a bike that had been potentially damaged. We found out that Richard had been riding at very slow speed and just over balanced but had got his leg trapped under the pannier as the bike had toppled over. Consequently, damage to the bike was minimal but I still wanted to assure myself that everything worked correctly before I rode it back across town in the evening rush hour. I rode it back rather gingerly and soon had it safely stored in the hotel´s underground carpark.
Andres remained at the hospital but was unable to get much information on Richard other than he was obviously being kept in overnight.
The rest of our group were very subdued and saddened that a member oof the team had been injured and wouldn´t be able to continue the trip.
There was nothing more we could do for Richard that evening so we decided to get some much needed food. A restaurant was found just a few hundred yards from the hotel which looked promising. It advertised on the door a tourist menu for 12.5 Euros that looked good value so we decided to eat there. I had just grabbed a jacket quickly as we were leaving the hotel and it was my internal heated jacket complete with wires coming out and a big control switch with green and red buttons. I got some very funny looks as I walked into the restaurant from the other diners as I must have looked every inch a suicide bomber with this jacket on. Perhaps because of this, they put us in a separate area around the back! They then informed us that the 12.5 Euro menu was only available at lunch times and instead we would have to order from the very expensive looking a la carte selection. We soon ordered drinks including a good bottle of the local wine. The waiter tried four times to get the cork out of the bottle, each time just extracting a small amout of broken cork, much to his obvious embarrassment. Eventually, he admitted defeat and reurned with a fresh bottle. This time he managed to remove the seal and take the cork out in one smooth movement for which we gave him a slightly sarcastic round of applause.
The meal was fantastic and a real gastronomic delight. Each dish had numerous flavours and all six of us agreed it was one of the finest meals we made enjoyed in a long time.
We decided that due to Richard being in the nearby hospital that we would remain in Granada the following day so that we could assist with arranging whatever was needed for Richard and his bike.
Didn´t sleep well last night due to hotel room being too hot. The hotel had set the entire interior temperature to cater for their elderly winter guests. While this was was comfortable for the old folks it was uncomfortable for us hardened bikes who were more aclimatised to the sub zero temperatures of the UK and Northern France.
As soon as we were all dressed up in our bike gear, we couldn´t wait to get outside into the fresh morning air. Now a group of 7, we set off from Benidorm and immediately joined the motorway south. For the first time since last summer, I was actually warm whilst riding a bike. This made me realise why I actually ride a bike, because it is fun!
The fine weather did not last however and soon we were subjected to vicious cross winds so strong it would blow us across the two lanes of the motorway. Passing large trucks became "interesting" as they offered a very temporary reprieve from leaning the bike against the wind but it struck back with a vengeance once you came level with the front of the truck. You had to time it precisely to steer into the wind, too early and you would swerve towards the truck, too late and you got blown towards the central reservations.
In addition to these severe winds we then had to cope with driving rain as well making visability difficult. In some ways this was the worst of the riding conditions that we had encountered.
By the time we finally arrived in Grenada, we were all shattered from the efforts of riding and just wanted to find a decent hotel. We found a small bar to use as our base whilst we checked out the surrounding area. Andres knew central Grenada but since his last visit the city had introduced more one-way systems and pedestrianised areas so it was easier to search for a hotel on foot. The bar owner looked unimpressed as we spread out our dripping wet bike gear which caused puddles of water on his highly polished wooden floor. But as long as we were spending money, he was happy enough.
Whilst we were laughing and joking in the bar. Roger took a phone cal from Richard, who was the last member of our group to join us. He was due to be joining us here in Grenada having ridden down from Madrid this morning. Roger suddenly shouted for all of us to be very quiet as he was struggling to hear Richard on the phone but that something serious had happened. Richard had just informed Roger that he was phoning him from a nearby supermarket carpark but that he was stuck under his bike and may have a broken leg!" At first Roger thought it was a joke but quickly realised that Richard was serious. We managed to get the location of the carpark and immediately set about a plan to help him. Andres as the only Spanish speaker was immediately despatched along with Bhud who was competent with the satnav to locate Richard and find his way back to the bar.
As soon as Andres and Bhud arrived at the supermarket, they phoned to tell us that Richard had already been taken to hospital by ambulance. The local police were extremely helpful and professional and helped sort out Richard´s bike and marked on the satnav the precise location of the hospital. Andres rode off to the hospital to find out more details whilst Bhud stayed with Richard´s bike. We now needed to get Richard´s relatively undamaged bike recovered back to our hotel for safe storage. It was decided that I was best suited to ride Ricard´s bike as I rode a similar model whereas all of the other riders rode the later lighter machines. I of course agreed to help even though it meant a pillion ride across town on the back of another bike to get there. Like many experienced motorcyclists, I do not like to go pillion on another bike as I hate the feeling of not being in control. I need not have worried as Gert who carried me across town was an incredibly smooth rider and we were soon at the carpark where we found Bhud and the bike. Richard had originally planned to ride down all the way to South Africa and back up the Eastern side so he was carrying a substantial amout of gear on his bike. We unloaded some of the gear and spread the weight on to Gert´s and Bhuds bikes. I gave Richard´s bike a good check over as I was nervous of riding a bike that had been potentially damaged. We found out that Richard had been riding at very slow speed and just over balanced but had got his leg trapped under the pannier as the bike had toppled over. Consequently, damage to the bike was minimal but I still wanted to assure myself that everything worked correctly before I rode it back across town in the evening rush hour. I rode it back rather gingerly and soon had it safely stored in the hotel´s underground carpark.
Andres remained at the hospital but was unable to get much information on Richard other than he was obviously being kept in overnight.
The rest of our group were very subdued and saddened that a member oof the team had been injured and wouldn´t be able to continue the trip.
There was nothing more we could do for Richard that evening so we decided to get some much needed food. A restaurant was found just a few hundred yards from the hotel which looked promising. It advertised on the door a tourist menu for 12.5 Euros that looked good value so we decided to eat there. I had just grabbed a jacket quickly as we were leaving the hotel and it was my internal heated jacket complete with wires coming out and a big control switch with green and red buttons. I got some very funny looks as I walked into the restaurant from the other diners as I must have looked every inch a suicide bomber with this jacket on. Perhaps because of this, they put us in a separate area around the back! They then informed us that the 12.5 Euro menu was only available at lunch times and instead we would have to order from the very expensive looking a la carte selection. We soon ordered drinks including a good bottle of the local wine. The waiter tried four times to get the cork out of the bottle, each time just extracting a small amout of broken cork, much to his obvious embarrassment. Eventually, he admitted defeat and reurned with a fresh bottle. This time he managed to remove the seal and take the cork out in one smooth movement for which we gave him a slightly sarcastic round of applause.
The meal was fantastic and a real gastronomic delight. Each dish had numerous flavours and all six of us agreed it was one of the finest meals we made enjoyed in a long time.
We decided that due to Richard being in the nearby hospital that we would remain in Granada the following day so that we could assist with arranging whatever was needed for Richard and his bike.
Wednesday 13 January 2010
Woke this morning in luxury of Hotel Diplomatic in Benidorm. Hotel is so nice I don´t want to leave. Must bookmark this place for future reference, might even stay here on return trip.
Decided over breakfast to stay extra day here with John. Glen decided to ride on to Algercias. Got on hotel internet this morning but computer crashed a few times, usually just before I had completed long post.
Watched Sky News this morning and saw how bad weather was in Devon with reports of people stranded in their cars for several hours outside Exeter. I knew my wife Ann had a hospital appointment in Exeter yesterday so I was obviously concerned that she was OK. Glad to hear this morning that she had got home safely although our home in Devon is still cut off to all vehicles apart from 4x4s. Friends and neighbours have rallied around to help my wife both from the point of view of the extreme weather and also knowing that I am away. To any of them reading this blog, a big thank you from me.
Late morning, John and I went for a walk around Benidorm. The place has a reputation of Union Jacks and Lager Louts but at this time of year we appeared to be the only people under the age of 60 in town. It is like Eastbourne has just been moved south. The shops etc were surprisingly upmarket to what we had expected with very few tacky tourist type places although this may reflect the better part of town we are in.
So we went in search of tacky tourist attractions. :)
On the sea front we found a bar with a resident singer who looked at least 75. We passed on that and further down the sea front was alovely bar with two country singers complete with guitars aand cowboy hats. Every other customer was wrapped up with thick jackets, scarves and hats and I´m sat there in sandals, thin tropical trousers and very thin breathable t-shirt. After a few drinks the singers sounded good.
No mileage today but total trip mileage is now 1,549 miles to date.
The principal reason for this trip is to raise money for the road building in The Gambia. At last count my www.justgiving.com/sidhorman showed GBP 911 plus GBP 227 Gift Aid giving GBP 1,138. To this must be added GBP 750 due from Barclays Matched Fundraising giving a total of GBP 1,888. I also have commitments from other people who will pay up when I have completed the trip so I look on target to reach my minimum target of GBP 2,000.
For anyone who wants to follow our trip in real time, we are carrying satelite transmitter beacons which relay our positions onto Google maps. For reasons of security, we are not posting this on to the public domain but any friends can contact my wife for further details. For those friends on http://www.ukgser.com/ they can contact my very good friend Proff who will sort them out access.
After a few drinks listening to the country singers we moved on to the Western Saloon where they will be p`laying this evening. I foolishly challenged John to a game or two of pool thinking he was too old to be any good. Despite not having his satnav with him, John managed to find his way around a pool table and managed to beat me by 3 games to 2.
Got back to hotel and found out I can in fact upload photos on to this blog. Hopefully I have manged to attach some not just to this post but also to the previous ones.:)
Andres has just arrived in the hotel as I´m posting this. Roger and the other group should be here shortly so I will update again later this evening.
Back again. Roger and others arrived and soon we were all in the bar comparing notes on our journey so far. We then adjourned to a nearby Chinese restaurant and had an excellent meal.
Back again. Roger and others arrived and soon we were all in the bar comparing notes on our journey so far. We then adjourned to a nearby Chinese restaurant and had an excellent meal.
Tuesday 12 January 2010
DAY 6 TUESDAY 12TH JANUARY 2010
First priority this morning was to go to the medical centre to get my infected knee sorted out. It was only a short walk around the block from our Ibis hotel. I walked in, rolled up my trouser leg and said " Infectado. Antibiotics. Por Favo". The lady there reached behind her gave me the antibiotics and rang up €4.75 on the till. I was in and out in under a minute, what fantastic service! Back at the hotel I put the cream and other stuff on my knee and then we packed up and left. We stopped for petrol for all three of us within one mile of the hotel so we would all be ready to clock up some decent miles today. Unfortunately, the lovely early morning sunshine of Zaragoza soon gave way to driving rain as we headed south towards Valencia. It then got worse as we road along the southern side of the Pyrenees with large snow drifts. We had thought we had left the snow behind us in France but it was back with a vengeance here. When we pulled off the main road at lunchtime to stop for a coffee, it was back to UK like condition and we even struggled to park the bikes in the snow and ice outside the cafe. At times the dual carriageway was reduced to effectively one lane where the snow ploughs had piled up a few feet of snow at the edges of the road.
Later on we stopped for a traditional Spanish tapas meal which was excellent. This was just north of Valencia and we were ahead of schedule so the plan was agree to ride the motorway ring road around Valencia and stop at the next village on the coast.
Unfortunately we let John "TwatNavMan" take the lead. No sooner were we on the ring road around the town when his twatnav told him to turn off and ahead directly into the centre of town. And of course, John always obeys everything his satnav tells him even it is patently and bloody obviously wrong! I´ve read stories in the papers of people who have supposedly driven their cars into river because their satnav told them to but I always thought it was a tabloid exaggeration. Now having ridden with John, I believe those stories as John will always trust his satnav 100% even when it defies all sense and logic.
So I rode up the inside of John and called across "You silly fellow. We are on the blooming wrong road again" (or it was something like that I shouted!).
Once out of Valencia, we called down to the coast but the small villages were like ghost towns, all being shut up for the winter. We therefore decided to ride on to good old Benidorm. We thought even us muppets must be able to find a hotel in Benidorm as it probably has the highest number of hotels per square inch of anywhere in the world.
Whilst John looked after the bikes, Glen and I went to haggle with the hotels for the best deal. They have lots of empty rooms at this time of year so we figured a good deal was possible. After the long ride of 321 miles today in poor conditions we felt we deserved a decent hotel. I thought I had done a good deal at the first hotel but just as I was about to hand over my passport and credit card, Glen came in and told me he had done an even better deal at the posher hotel up the road. Well done that man! We managed a quality 4* hotel with a double room each, underground parking and full breakfast for around 40 pounds each.
Wonderful rooms, best so far on this adventure.
Back to my infected knee. It is definately getting better than yesterday back it is still bad. I´m no expert on medical matters but I know enough to know that it should not be green and yellow. I´ve put a clean sterile dressing and antibiotic cream on it and the pain is reduced.
Tomorrow we plan to cruise down the Spanish coasat to Algercias and finally meet up with all the other riders on this trip. The original plan was to meet up in Scotland at the original Calum´s road. Plan B was to meet at Folkestone but the weather also distrupted that idea. Plan C is to all get together in Southern Spain before we all cross together into Africa. Then the real adventure begins...
Later on we stopped for a traditional Spanish tapas meal which was excellent. This was just north of Valencia and we were ahead of schedule so the plan was agree to ride the motorway ring road around Valencia and stop at the next village on the coast.
Unfortunately we let John "TwatNavMan" take the lead. No sooner were we on the ring road around the town when his twatnav told him to turn off and ahead directly into the centre of town. And of course, John always obeys everything his satnav tells him even it is patently and bloody obviously wrong! I´ve read stories in the papers of people who have supposedly driven their cars into river because their satnav told them to but I always thought it was a tabloid exaggeration. Now having ridden with John, I believe those stories as John will always trust his satnav 100% even when it defies all sense and logic.
So I rode up the inside of John and called across "You silly fellow. We are on the blooming wrong road again" (or it was something like that I shouted!).
Once out of Valencia, we called down to the coast but the small villages were like ghost towns, all being shut up for the winter. We therefore decided to ride on to good old Benidorm. We thought even us muppets must be able to find a hotel in Benidorm as it probably has the highest number of hotels per square inch of anywhere in the world.
Whilst John looked after the bikes, Glen and I went to haggle with the hotels for the best deal. They have lots of empty rooms at this time of year so we figured a good deal was possible. After the long ride of 321 miles today in poor conditions we felt we deserved a decent hotel. I thought I had done a good deal at the first hotel but just as I was about to hand over my passport and credit card, Glen came in and told me he had done an even better deal at the posher hotel up the road. Well done that man! We managed a quality 4* hotel with a double room each, underground parking and full breakfast for around 40 pounds each.
Wonderful rooms, best so far on this adventure.
Back to my infected knee. It is definately getting better than yesterday back it is still bad. I´m no expert on medical matters but I know enough to know that it should not be green and yellow. I´ve put a clean sterile dressing and antibiotic cream on it and the pain is reduced.
Tomorrow we plan to cruise down the Spanish coasat to Algercias and finally meet up with all the other riders on this trip. The original plan was to meet up in Scotland at the original Calum´s road. Plan B was to meet at Folkestone but the weather also distrupted that idea. Plan C is to all get together in Southern Spain before we all cross together into Africa. Then the real adventure begins...
Monday 11 January 2010
DAY 5 MONDAY 11TH JANUARY 2010
Left Bordeaux at 10.00 am. Third attempt at riding as a group of three. Exited hotel car park and John turned right and I turned left, not a good start. We had set our satnavs to the same destination but it was giving different directions. At end of street, John's said turn left, mine said straight ahead. Glen's said left so I went with the majority decision. Down next avenue, John's suddenly sent him off up minor side street. My patience was already exhausted so I carried on main road and rode on my own. Oh well it lasted all of 2 miles this time!
A few miles later we all met up again on autoroute. John pulled in behind me and we were riding as a group of three again. Then he suddenly disappeared again. Eventually I needed to stop for fuel and they rode past whilst I was refueling. Flew out of petrol station and caught them up just as they pulled in for fuel at next services. This continued for a while until we finally managed to ride as a group of three and we let John ride up front.
We crossed into Spain without even knowing it. Suddenly, John turned off to the right for no apparent reason, his infamous satnav was leading him astray again. John explained later that he mind ofter wondered and then he would notice his satnav telling him 'turn right in 100 yards' so he did, suddenly and without warning! He found his way back to us after going round in circles twice and having to pay the same toll road charge 3 times. Lovely roads in Spain and finally the sun came out and we could begin to enjoy riding the bikes.
I had a minor problem. On Day One my heated trousers had worked far too well and had managed to burn my right knee to the extent that a large blister developed. Unforunately, the blister burst and it got progressively worse to the point of being very painful. Today it was so swollen that the entire knee was red and obviously inflamed. I went into chemist in Zaragoza and they kept telling me I was 'infecktado' as if I was carrying bubonic plague. Apparently that is Spanish for 'infected' and the whole kneecap is infected and I need to go to a medical centre. I'll follow up in the morning.
We had an excellent tapas meal this evening washed down with some very nice Rioja wine. We know the weather is getting better as the red wine is now being served at the correct room temperature so things are definitely looking up.
Mileage today 318 miles about average so far. Tomorrow we plan to cruise down towards Valencia.
A few miles later we all met up again on autoroute. John pulled in behind me and we were riding as a group of three again. Then he suddenly disappeared again. Eventually I needed to stop for fuel and they rode past whilst I was refueling. Flew out of petrol station and caught them up just as they pulled in for fuel at next services. This continued for a while until we finally managed to ride as a group of three and we let John ride up front.
We crossed into Spain without even knowing it. Suddenly, John turned off to the right for no apparent reason, his infamous satnav was leading him astray again. John explained later that he mind ofter wondered and then he would notice his satnav telling him 'turn right in 100 yards' so he did, suddenly and without warning! He found his way back to us after going round in circles twice and having to pay the same toll road charge 3 times. Lovely roads in Spain and finally the sun came out and we could begin to enjoy riding the bikes.
I had a minor problem. On Day One my heated trousers had worked far too well and had managed to burn my right knee to the extent that a large blister developed. Unforunately, the blister burst and it got progressively worse to the point of being very painful. Today it was so swollen that the entire knee was red and obviously inflamed. I went into chemist in Zaragoza and they kept telling me I was 'infecktado' as if I was carrying bubonic plague. Apparently that is Spanish for 'infected' and the whole kneecap is infected and I need to go to a medical centre. I'll follow up in the morning.
We had an excellent tapas meal this evening washed down with some very nice Rioja wine. We know the weather is getting better as the red wine is now being served at the correct room temperature so things are definitely looking up.
Mileage today 318 miles about average so far. Tomorrow we plan to cruise down towards Valencia.
Sunday 10 January 2010
DAY 3 SATURDAY 9TH JANUARY 2010
Woke up in Orleans at 5.00am and weather looked good with no new snow overnight. Woke again at 9.00 am to find fresh snowfall and carpark covered. Hopefully, at later date I will be able to upload photo to show just how bleak the conditions were. Had very basic breakfast in simple Formula 1 style hotel. Glen rang to say he was already on the road but that John was planning to stop in Paris until conditions improved.
I got going at 10.30 French time but forgot to switch on my Spot satelite transmitter until my first petrol stop. Very cold again and light snow but roads were well salted and gritted with numerous snow ploughs on roads although only salting first two lanes of motorway leaving outside overtaking lane with snow, ice and slush.
Stopped for fuel early, fuel consumption dropped to low 40s mpg due to slow speed running in low gears in the snow. Painfuly cold at times with hands and feet worst. Made frequent stops for coffee and soup at services before cold got too bad. Good to be clocking up the mies and heading south to supposedly warmer weather. French Météo this morning showed Bordeaux at amongst the coldest at -6. So far since leaving home in Devon, I have only ridden in sub zero temperatures.
In afternoon, I stopped again at services and met an interesting Australian chap who was also a fan of BMW motorcycles. We chatted for ages about bikes and I even arranged to help him sell some sparess he had left over.
Another stage of 90 miles left me with only 60 to go to Bordeaux. I needed to stop again and had a decent meal but with the pitifuly small sized coffee you always get in France.
Eventualy Bordeaux was reached and Glen texted me to give me details of the city centre hotel he had checked into. I soon found it and rode around the block to the hotel carpark. Unfortunately, it had been a long day and I turned in to wrong underground car park by mistake. I realised my mistake when I exited the carpark an found I was locked out of it and my bike was locked in it! I managed to dive in behind a car before the large metal gates closed but now I had to work out how to get my bike out. Finally a car came to the exit and I was able to tailgate him out before the barrier came down.
In evening Glen and I went out for an excelent meal washed down with some of the wonderful local wine. Text received from John saying he had reached Poitiers and would join us in Bordeaux on Sunday afternoon.
Woke up in Orleans at 5.00am and weather looked good with no new snow overnight. Woke again at 9.00 am to find fresh snowfall and carpark covered. Hopefully, at later date I will be able to upload photo to show just how bleak the conditions were. Had very basic breakfast in simple Formula 1 style hotel. Glen rang to say he was already on the road but that John was planning to stop in Paris until conditions improved.
I got going at 10.30 French time but forgot to switch on my Spot satelite transmitter until my first petrol stop. Very cold again and light snow but roads were well salted and gritted with numerous snow ploughs on roads although only salting first two lanes of motorway leaving outside overtaking lane with snow, ice and slush.
Stopped for fuel early, fuel consumption dropped to low 40s mpg due to slow speed running in low gears in the snow. Painfuly cold at times with hands and feet worst. Made frequent stops for coffee and soup at services before cold got too bad. Good to be clocking up the mies and heading south to supposedly warmer weather. French Météo this morning showed Bordeaux at amongst the coldest at -6. So far since leaving home in Devon, I have only ridden in sub zero temperatures.
In afternoon, I stopped again at services and met an interesting Australian chap who was also a fan of BMW motorcycles. We chatted for ages about bikes and I even arranged to help him sell some sparess he had left over.
Another stage of 90 miles left me with only 60 to go to Bordeaux. I needed to stop again and had a decent meal but with the pitifuly small sized coffee you always get in France.
Eventualy Bordeaux was reached and Glen texted me to give me details of the city centre hotel he had checked into. I soon found it and rode around the block to the hotel carpark. Unfortunately, it had been a long day and I turned in to wrong underground car park by mistake. I realised my mistake when I exited the carpark an found I was locked out of it and my bike was locked in it! I managed to dive in behind a car before the large metal gates closed but now I had to work out how to get my bike out. Finally a car came to the exit and I was able to tailgate him out before the barrier came down.
In evening Glen and I went out for an excelent meal washed down with some of the wonderful local wine. Text received from John saying he had reached Poitiers and would join us in Bordeaux on Sunday afternoon.
DAY 2 FRIDAY 8TH JANUARY 2010
No rush to leave hotel as temperatures still well below zero. By lunchtime we realised that it was never going to warm up as all of France was freezing varying from-2 to -7 so nothing was going to melt today.
Leaving the hotel, it immediately became obvious that John was very wary of the icy conditions and was riding extremely cautiously, at no more than walking pace. Once we reached the motorway it was safe to get up to more normal speeds but John would not go above 40mph which caused congestion on the 2 lane motorway as all other traffic was traveling much faster. I overtook John and gradually increased speed to 45 then 50 mph but John resolutely stuck at 40mph which I personally thought was dangerously slow on a busy motorway.
Glen ahead slowed up to wait for us and then suddenly indicated to take the next exit off the motorway. I tried to signal that we needed to stay on this motorway but he turned off and headed down the exit ramp to the roundabout. As I had no idea where he was going, I had no choice but to follow him around this large roundabout which in turn meant I lost sight of John behind. Glen did a complete lap of the roundabout and then took the exit to continue on the original route. I waited on the roundabout so that John would know which exit to take when he came around. Only he didn't come round but instead did a U turn and was heading back the way we had just come! To say I was unimpressed by this display of riding and navigation would be an understatement. It later transspired that both Glen and John had been suddenly told by their satnavs to do a U turn on the motorway! I presumed that they must have set their twatnavs to avoid motorways.
Glen suggested that he would go and find John and I should ride direct to Orleans and we would regroup there. Apparently, Glen and John never did find each other and each made their own way south with with Glen arriving in Orleans around 5.00 pm and John missing in action somewhere around Paris.
By the time I got to Orleans, the temperature was falling rapidly so I opted for the very first cheap hotel I found. Glen phoned shortly afterwards to tell me he had checcked into a different hotel on the other side of town. So at the end of our first day in France what started as 3 riders together ended as 3 riders in 3 different hotels with 50 miles apart.
No rush to leave hotel as temperatures still well below zero. By lunchtime we realised that it was never going to warm up as all of France was freezing varying from-2 to -7 so nothing was going to melt today.
Leaving the hotel, it immediately became obvious that John was very wary of the icy conditions and was riding extremely cautiously, at no more than walking pace. Once we reached the motorway it was safe to get up to more normal speeds but John would not go above 40mph which caused congestion on the 2 lane motorway as all other traffic was traveling much faster. I overtook John and gradually increased speed to 45 then 50 mph but John resolutely stuck at 40mph which I personally thought was dangerously slow on a busy motorway.
Glen ahead slowed up to wait for us and then suddenly indicated to take the next exit off the motorway. I tried to signal that we needed to stay on this motorway but he turned off and headed down the exit ramp to the roundabout. As I had no idea where he was going, I had no choice but to follow him around this large roundabout which in turn meant I lost sight of John behind. Glen did a complete lap of the roundabout and then took the exit to continue on the original route. I waited on the roundabout so that John would know which exit to take when he came around. Only he didn't come round but instead did a U turn and was heading back the way we had just come! To say I was unimpressed by this display of riding and navigation would be an understatement. It later transspired that both Glen and John had been suddenly told by their satnavs to do a U turn on the motorway! I presumed that they must have set their twatnavs to avoid motorways.
Glen suggested that he would go and find John and I should ride direct to Orleans and we would regroup there. Apparently, Glen and John never did find each other and each made their own way south with with Glen arriving in Orleans around 5.00 pm and John missing in action somewhere around Paris.
By the time I got to Orleans, the temperature was falling rapidly so I opted for the very first cheap hotel I found. Glen phoned shortly afterwards to tell me he had checcked into a different hotel on the other side of town. So at the end of our first day in France what started as 3 riders together ended as 3 riders in 3 different hotels with 50 miles apart.
DAY 1
Received phone call from Glen mid morning suggesting that we finaly get going. Panic stations! Immediate problem is that bike is still snowed in. Thought of putting bike on trailer and towing to main road. Jumped in car but couldn't move at all due to snow and ice so had no option but to ride bike. Rolled bike out of garage into thick snow at least 6 inches deep. Only managed to move forwards thanks to big efforts of wife Ann and son Martin pushing. A fully (over) loaded GS is not light and took huge effort from all three of us to almost carry the bike to the end of the drive.
Finally it was time to hit the road after 12 months of preparation. Within 200 yards I had literally "hit the road" when the back end slid around and my leg slipped on the iceand down it went. I stood there with one leg either side of my horizontal bike shouting for help to pick it up. It took us about an hour to go the first mile from my garage and by this time I was boiling inside my riding gear.
Once I eventualy got to a salted and gritted main road I was able to speed up a bit. When the cold weather made itself felt, I was grateful for the heated clothing to keep me warm.
I was supposed to be at Glen's house near Shaftesbury at 1.00 pm but instead I rolled up just gone 3.00 pm. His wife told me he had left at 2.00 pm to get to Folkestone before darkness.
Darkess fell for me on the M3 approaching London and the temperature noticeably dropped and it started snowing again. At this point I thought to myself "What on earth am I doing here? Am I completely insane?". Then I rememberedd that I am insane so thats OK and carried on. The sign showingn upcoming servicess dispayed the bed symbol so I was very tempted to stop here for the night and go no further. Only the thick snow and ice on their ungritted carpark changed my mind so I rode on to the M25 in the rush hour at 5.00pm. The M25 turned into M26 and the realisation that I was only one hour away from Folkestone. However,I needed to stop as even with heated clothing I was still getting cold. The services carpark was ungritted and I worried that I would never get the bike out again.The other motorists who trudged into the cafe area looked at me as if I was a complete lunatic being out on a bike in this weather.
At Folkestone, the tunnel staff were very helpful and allowed me to go on the next available train without paying the £35 charge that the auto check-in had demanded. Once aboard the train, I was in a comparment with a large extended Orthodox Jewish family who were amazed when I told the, about our trip and they very kindly gave me drinks from their car.
Disemarking in Calias was a nightmare as there was thick snow that the French had made no effort to clear. Glen had told me that the hotel was a mere 1.5 miles away but in those conditions it took me over 20 minutes to get there. I slithered into the Ibis car park in conditions very similar to that whuch I had started the day in Devon but at least I had made it to France.
Milage total 315 miles but in these conditions it felt like at least twice that.
Received phone call from Glen mid morning suggesting that we finaly get going. Panic stations! Immediate problem is that bike is still snowed in. Thought of putting bike on trailer and towing to main road. Jumped in car but couldn't move at all due to snow and ice so had no option but to ride bike. Rolled bike out of garage into thick snow at least 6 inches deep. Only managed to move forwards thanks to big efforts of wife Ann and son Martin pushing. A fully (over) loaded GS is not light and took huge effort from all three of us to almost carry the bike to the end of the drive.
Finally it was time to hit the road after 12 months of preparation. Within 200 yards I had literally "hit the road" when the back end slid around and my leg slipped on the iceand down it went. I stood there with one leg either side of my horizontal bike shouting for help to pick it up. It took us about an hour to go the first mile from my garage and by this time I was boiling inside my riding gear.
Once I eventualy got to a salted and gritted main road I was able to speed up a bit. When the cold weather made itself felt, I was grateful for the heated clothing to keep me warm.
I was supposed to be at Glen's house near Shaftesbury at 1.00 pm but instead I rolled up just gone 3.00 pm. His wife told me he had left at 2.00 pm to get to Folkestone before darkness.
Darkess fell for me on the M3 approaching London and the temperature noticeably dropped and it started snowing again. At this point I thought to myself "What on earth am I doing here? Am I completely insane?". Then I rememberedd that I am insane so thats OK and carried on. The sign showingn upcoming servicess dispayed the bed symbol so I was very tempted to stop here for the night and go no further. Only the thick snow and ice on their ungritted carpark changed my mind so I rode on to the M25 in the rush hour at 5.00pm. The M25 turned into M26 and the realisation that I was only one hour away from Folkestone. However,I needed to stop as even with heated clothing I was still getting cold. The services carpark was ungritted and I worried that I would never get the bike out again.The other motorists who trudged into the cafe area looked at me as if I was a complete lunatic being out on a bike in this weather.
At Folkestone, the tunnel staff were very helpful and allowed me to go on the next available train without paying the £35 charge that the auto check-in had demanded. Once aboard the train, I was in a comparment with a large extended Orthodox Jewish family who were amazed when I told the, about our trip and they very kindly gave me drinks from their car.
Disemarking in Calias was a nightmare as there was thick snow that the French had made no effort to clear. Glen had told me that the hotel was a mere 1.5 miles away but in those conditions it took me over 20 minutes to get there. I slithered into the Ibis car park in conditions very similar to that whuch I had started the day in Devon but at least I had made it to France.
Milage total 315 miles but in these conditions it felt like at least twice that.
Tuesday 5 January 2010
Change of Plans
Well the original plans should have seen us all heading north to Scotland today. Unfortunately, the weather in UK for the last few days has led to a change of plans. It is -15c in northern Scotland with thick snow drifts making travel by motorcycle basically impossible.
Plan B was to simply all make our own way down to Folkestone and meet up there on Saturday night 9th January. Unfortunately, the weather has again played havoc with our plans as the snow and ice has crept south. The forecast is for worsening conditions this coming weekend with snow right down south into Kent and northern France.
Plan C is leave as soon as possible to get to warmer climes. The problem I now have is simply getting away from home here in Devon. We awoke to snow and ice this morning as shown in attached photo. We live about two miles from a main road which means it is very difficult to travel by motorcycle as these minor roads are not gritted at all.
Latest plan is to review the situation on Wednesday morning and try to find a way to get away. Possibilities include loading bike on to trailer and taking as far as main road and then hopefully riding it from there in direction of Folkestone with the hope of crossing the Channel on Thursday.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)