Travel Bug

During the lull, between being discharged from hospital in early July and the re-commencement of chemotherapy in the middle of August, I contracted the travel bug. You may be familiar with the symptoms, a sudden urge to search the internet on websites such as Booking.com, Holiday Weather, Airbnb and Brittany Ferries to name but a few. A family Christmas in St Malo, France was a good enough reason for me to head to Spain and Portugal for the preceding month, so in an instant I’d booked my BMW motorcycle and me on the ferry from Portsmouth to Santander, it gave me a positive target to aim for.

The second batch of chemotherapy started to tire me, and the novelty of all this treatment was starting to wear a bit thin, although the side effects weren’t as severe as the first batch, they lasted much longer and I felt a bit battle weary. The upshot was that the prospect of big mileage on a motorbike was going to be a tad challenging, cue my birthday, which coincided with the end of my chemo at the end of September. Well, it had been a tough year so I ended up treating myself to a car which could make for an interesting alternative to the bike for the forthcoming Grand Tour.

It wasn’t long before I decided that the car would be the better option, a decision which was welcomed by my surgeon and specialist nurse.

The first week or so I will be accompanied by my mate Andy D, not to be confused with Andy M, the latter who has been closest to me throughout not just this year’s trials, but many previous ones.

Andy D is a fellow biker and we worked together when he was a young lad back in the 80’s, he moved onto much greater things within the job whilst I continued to swim around at the bottom of the fish bowl. We rekindled the friendship a few years ago and have done a couple of small UK bike trips together since. After a week of putting up with my company he will return home from Faro airport and I will go wherever the mood takes me.

The late evening of Tuesday 28th we boarded the ferry at Portsmouth and had time for a few drinks in the bar before retiring to the cabin. Through the night and following day the crossing was like a millpond, I’ve actually swam in choppier waters. We saw the obligatory pod of dolphins, albeit tiddlers by the usual standard, and generally spent the daylight hours just chewing the fat about all kinds of stuff.

I’m using the minuscule of dodgy internet connection to post this at about 8pm GMT. At 8am local time tomorrow we should arrive at Santander for the 400 mile drive to Caceres, updates to follow….