Just some photos from the last few days so you’re up to speed.
Filling In
It’s all in the timing
The cafe at Santillana de Campo, 100 miles south of Santander, couldn’t have been better, it ticked every box I needed ticking!
It was only 9.30am, which really did have all the makings of a true time of an hour earlier, and I’d already racked up 70 miles in freezing temperatures.
I knew the ferry departed sometime in the afternoon at an even number, for some reason the number 4 stuck in my mind, but on Tuesday night I thought it best to check. I was right, it was an even number, the number 2, with check in at least an hour before. No problem, allow a good three hours and I’ll be there in plenty of time.
I woke to a stunningly beautiful morning, a cloudless sky and a frosty Reg, as the sun was just beginning to make an appearance the temperature was zero, it felt very much like a winter’s morning. Although the sky was the palest of blues it faded to a thick band of white along the horizon, you know, that band of white that says ‘This is bloody cold’!
When planning the trip I knew that the vast majority of the six weeks I would be away would hopefully be in the twenty degrees, so the bike gear I chose was appropriate for that, which means it wasn’t appropriate for this! It was a compromise I was prepared to make, so knew that I may have a few days of discomfort, and this was going to be one.
I layered up with as many as I could comfortably wear, without feeling and looking like a Michelin Man, and headed off for the first leg of the 170 mile journey to the ferry. It was very cold and quite busy with commuters until north of Palencia, where I could set the cruise control for a slightly illegal 82mph
Dismounting the bike after an hour in temperatures ranging from zero to 5c, my speed making that about -13 to -3, was enough to seize up pretty much everything that would normally move. It was as if all my joints had been set in plaster, a tricky scenario when bringing about 400kgs of bike and luggage to a standstill. Fortunately I managed to get a foot down before Reg and I just crumpled into a heap on the cafe forecourt, and I found a suitable place for Reg to sit in the sun whilst I stripped off in the cafe. Everything that could be decently removed was, even my boots to help thaw out my feet in the very bright and sunny cafe.
I made the most of my break, a Spanish version of a small bacon butty washed down by two of their so called ‘large’ coffees. With both Reg and I suitably refuelled the rest of the ride wasn’t as demanding as I expected.
The snow covered Picos Mountains made a lovely backdrop to the patchwork of lush green grass and orange and brown ploughed fields. As the motorway meandered its way, a la M6 through Tebay gorge but on a much grander scale, between the lower mountains, it confirmed to me that northern Spain really is my favourite part of this country.
Much of this part of Cantabria makes me think of Austria, with the lower snow covered mountains and rolling green foothills and woodland areas. What distinguishes this part of Spain from its alpine cousin is the red pantile roofs of the houses, there is no doubt this is Iberia.
The ride down to the coast felt so easy, in every respect. We seemed to go downhill for about 70 miles, Reg was purring along as the temperature kept creeping up. I was surprised that whilst still at snow level, the temperature gauge was showing 12c, and it continued to climb as we descended. By the time we arrived at the port it was 18c and very comfortable.
There was a group of bikers whom I was directed to park amongst, and we shortly all boarded the ferry before all the other riff-raff, a very good day’s timing!
Apologies for no photos, ship’s wifi is limited!
Home
After giving Reg his first proper bath in six weeks he seemed to purr with contentment when fired up, happy now to be home from a hard trip, or maybe he’s just reflecting my mood?
Reg may just be a baby at eight months old but he now has 13,000 miles on his clock.
After five days of travelling by road and sea from Tenerife, I arrived home at 2.30pm yesterday. To say that I will now reflect on the tour isn’t exactly true, as I started doing that even whilst away. It’s early days, but at present the trip is making me question so many things about travel, the time I spend doing it and motorcycling.
I saw all the places I set out to see and found some extra gems, I rode in a climate I set out to ride in and some climates I’d have preferred not to. Geographically it really did what I hoped it would, and again I made several new friends with whom I remain in contact with.
The Numbers
In total Reg racked up another 3,914 road miles, which roughly equates to half travelling between Carlisle, Tenerife and back, and the other half exploring the two islands.
I spent a total of 138 hours at sea which, despite various sea states, had no adverse physical effect on me, but it’s a long haul. The ferry crossing between Portsmouth and Santander is 622 miles and between Huelva and Tenerife 702 miles.
Thank you all for following me on my six week, 4,000 mile road trip, you helped me more than you realise by filling in some of void I found that comes with solo travelling.
One Day Like This
After six weeks on the road, tonight I spent a lovely evening with my family, the youngest of whom had to be tucked up in bed at home, and very kindly looked after by Judy.
This gave Amy, Yann, Sarah, Rob and me time to enjoy each others company at a local hotel for the evening. The piped music was appropriate, so much so that Yann asked the staff for the playlist.
Of the many tracks that were played one in particular stood out for me, by Elbow, a group from my home town of Manchester. The reason it ‘struck a chord’ was that the last time I heard it was in the van. Rachel and I used to play it at maximum volume, it fitted our life.
Quite a few places in the video we actually went to, and I plan to set off back to Scandinavia on 20th June for some midnight sun. Preikestolen (Pulpit Rock) is featured in the video.
The Reason Why
I delve into the video library of my mind’s eye to replay an experience for you.
The sun was just above the horizon and the sky was cloudless, it wasn’t rising, yet nor was it about to set, because in late June the sun never sets here.
We were just outside the small village of Eggum on the Lofoten island of Vestvagoy, about 150 miles north of The Arctic Circle. We sat in the two front seats of our motorhome, and gazed out north across the calm Norwegian Sea, we were transfixed by the midnight sun, which blazed through the huge windscreen of the van turning the inside bright yellow. As we drank our wine, we watched as the sun got to its lowest point just above the horizon, and then start to climb again to signify the start of next day.
At 1am, with the sun continuing its upward path towards the blue sky above, we eventually decided to ‘call it a day’ and reluctantly retired to bed.
I will always treasure that memory of Rachel and me sharing such a special experience and now, this time alone, I head north to hopefully witness the midnight sun again.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
My return from the last bike trip to The Canaries back in spring had me questioning what on earth I was doing travelling alone for six weeks, it was harder for me than I maybe made it look? But despite all the doubts, I’d only been home for a week before I booked this trip, it seems that sitting still, or at least staying in one place, isn’t what I’m cut out for just yet.
So a family weekend break to Suffolk sparked my interest in travel again. Perusing a map of the Bury St Edmunds area, Harwich just jumped out at me! Only an hour’s ride away where there is a ferry link to Rotterdam, the timing was perfect for a midnight sun trip. Let’s face it, if I’m riding all that way down to deepest Suffolk, it seems only natural to continue to The Arctic Circle, don’t you think?
The Trip Proper
The trip proper doesn’t start until late Monday, but even during the English stage of this pre trip, I still find enjoyment from the scenery and pass through, and people I meet.
But nice to know I can squeeze another five miles out of an empty tank 😬.
I won’t be doing this in Scandinavia (hopefully)
Sliding Doors
Rushing through the hotel foyer with the remnants of my luggage I just managed to press the lift button as the doors closed. They immediately opened to reveal just one person in the lift, a small and fairly rotund lady, in her late 70s I would say. I asked her if it was ok for me to share the lift with her, and was surprised to be greeted by the broadest of Australian accents, had I not seen her first I would’ve sworn it was Dame Edna! She welcomed me aboard and in the very short journey to the top floor (of two), we both got a glimpse of each other’s lives. What a lovely friendly lady she was, probably helped by the consumption of a couple of gin and tonics which she confessed in having, not that there was a suggestion of any tipsiness. After the briefest of connections with yet another stranger I smiled inwardly at how lovely most people are.Â
The Arctic Adventures of Sven the Moto Moose
Hi,
My name is Sven, I was adopted in Sweden in 2015 by Rachel and Brian, and stayed in the van for all of their remaining travels, but the last two years I’ve just been sitting at home gathering dust.
When Brian said he was heading back to my homeland I pleaded with him to take me. He said on one condition, that I wrote some blog entries. Well I’ve never written a travel blog before but I’ll give it a go, as it’s my ticket north.
Oh, and I’ve also never been on a motorbike before either, so that should be fun! And before you ask, moose are exempt from crash helmets, which is great as it will give my antlers the freedom to waft in the turbulence, hopefully of just the bike!
The appropriately named ‘Polarsteps’ app will go live from Monday 20th June. For those who are interested it’s a live tracking app where I will post photos and brief comments. The blog will run as normal though. Message me (Brian, not Sven) if you want the link.
Every picture tells a story
I’ve either lost it or never had it?!
Despite the three photos suggesting the two of us had come to some agreement, about whatever you imagine, unfortunately the reality wasn’t so promising.
Having threaded my way through a few miles of standing traffic on the A14, I got to the cause of the holdup which, in my humble opinion, was a tuppence ha’penny three lorry skirmish. Although the police officer wanted to agree with my suggestion, she reluctantly rejected it. 🙄
A moose can only take so much of “In my day……”
Just a quickie (before the ship sails)
The heart strings were well and truly plucked as I rode away from my family. It will be another month until I see them again, and after spending so much time in their company I anticipated that this would be a difficult moment.
It lived up to expectations, but I had planned how to deal with it, look forward not back. As soon as I’d clicked the bike up into second gear my hand was free (from clutch duties) to wave them farewell.
I’ve hopefully learnt from my Canary Islands trip so I feel a little progression with solo travelling.
A clue in the name
With the hotel name in Copenhagen being CABINN, it shouldn’t have come as any surprise that my room was actually smaller than its namesake on the Stena Britannica ferry! Yes it’s small, and although not perfectly formed, it ticks the ‘box’ for me, so after 550 miles of riding in two days I hope to sleep like a log tonight.
I sneaked off the bike to snap this whilst he was having a power nap (where lorry drivers take a pee).
If he thinks this is knackering just wait til we get to MY country!
(Sven)
Copenhagen is yet another of those beautiful cities which deserves a few days rather than a few hours. It would be great to stay another day, but I’m on a bit of a mission and this is no holiday!
‘Probably’ the last beer I’ll have for three weeks!
The ‘well read’ Blog followers will recall that I met Lo and Gina on my last trip whilst on La Gomera. We had only spent about an hour together over lunch, but have stayed in touch since. When they heard I would be travelling through their home town of Hamburg on this trip, they insisted I spent the night with them.Â
Tomorrow I take Sven over the Øresund Bridge back to his home country. I have no idea how far we will get before I call it a day, no accommodation booked. I wonder how the day will pan out? 🤔
Maybe we should run a lottery on how many miles we’ll do? 😬
Where do I start?
Copenhagen seems a good place.
I departed the hotel by 6.30am, but not before I’d found out how many ‘cabins’ there were in the hotel……1,202 the receptionist assured me! No wonder I got lost almost more times than the hours I spent there, it took me ten minutes of wandering around the garage this morning to eventually relocate Reg!
There was no distance or destination set for today, but on firing Reg up the satnav seemed to take great delight in informing me that it was only 26 hours of continuous riding to the North Cape, no chance!Â
Continue reading “Where do I start?”