Photos from a cloudy day

The signs were deceivingly good early doors
My favourite valley so far! The island is tempting me to stay even longer.
Have you heard the one about the Englishman, Canarian and Belgian? Me neither, but we still laughed.
Elevenses stop
Hermigua Church
Looking back from where I came
The coastal road to Agulo
This is the viewing platform I was heading for
I hope to get a photo of this in decent weather!

The Beautiful Island

My well rehearsed apology for not being able to speak a language turned up trumps yet again, but not in Spanish as you may think? I’m no Inspector Clouseau, but if I was, I may have detected the early signs? 

Three guys were taking their seats at an outside table of the restaurant adjoining my apartment block, two duly sat, whilst the third stepped away to remove his top and reveal a perfectly bronzed and honed torso. Why is it that it’s only blokes that seem to do this to me, maybe I’m giving off the wrong vibes? Still, it’s nice to know that at 65 I still ‘have it’! We exchanged pleasantries, used the universal term ‘moto’, whereupon they invited me over for drinks.

It was obvious that these were the three motorcyclists I had overtaken ten miles previously, and being on Spanish plates I made the obvious, and yet again wrong assumption, that they were of Iberian origin. But Fabio, Luca and Giuseppe were of course Italian, living and working across in Tenerife, so once I’d slipped into something a little more comfortable, we had some beers together. The usual motorcycle craic followed with some useful tips coming from them on food specialities and where to eat in Tenerife. As I had another social engagement looming, I thanked them for my beer, which they insisted on paying for, and after they told me to look them up when in Tenerife, I bid them fond farewells.

The Italian Job

To keep you in the loop, I depart this island on Wednesday afternoon for seven nights in Puerto de la Cruz, followed by four in Santa Cruz, before my ferry back to mainland Spain on 3rd April.

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Small Yet Perfectly Formed

Cris Colon

An unfortunate name one might think, particularly for somebody who has navigated through a few passages? But Cris is more widely known the world over as that intrepid Italian explorer Christopher Columbus. His connection with this island dates back to 1492 when he set sail for India via the scenic route, but America got in the way! I briefly called into the capital (of La Gomera not America) on one of my many rides out, but will be returning for my ferry back to Tenerife, I may add a little more after that visit.

The church where C.C. said his final prayers before striking out west
C.C is a big fish in these parts
Another photo from the capital San Sebastian
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Best ’til Last

La Gomera saved its best weather until my last day, no heated handlebars on, no waterproofs, no riding through cloud, it’s as if it doesn’t want me to leave, and I leave reluctantly.

It’s been another day of meeting people, like I have a neon sign above my head flashing ‘This man needs help’! I really didn’t understand why Gina and Lothar invited me to sit with them at lunch. I placed my bike gear down at a nearby table and they immediately invited me to join them, of course The Yes Man accepted their kind invitation. I could write a story about our interaction but as usual, halfway through a trip, I’m now starting to even bore myself with these ramblings! Suffice to say Lothar said “She never invites people to be with us”! Gina? “I had a feeling”, and it seems the experience I have been going through for the last 20 months may actually have helped them in some small way. It will come as no surprise that I’m to call in to see them whenever I’m passing through Hamburg!

My contact list is now twice as big as when I started this trip, however I didn’t exchange details with The Ice Men, a group from Iceland on rented Harleys who came over to chew the fat, or maybe blubber 🤷🏻‍♂️

I took quite a bit of video footage today, however the Relive app will only allow a total of one minute, hence the very short clips. I have photographs and videos coming out of my ears but I think by now you should certainly have grasped what this place is like.

I return to Tenerife tomorrow on the 2pm ferry.

Tenerife, past and present

Uncle Jack

I was very fond of my Uncle Jack, mum’s brother. I was fortunate to get to know him very well due to him coming to live with us when we had the cafe and restaurant in Grange-over-Sands. To say he lived with us doesn’t really paint the whole picture. He and his wife had separated and mum and dad offered him a refuge I suppose, and also a job working with us. We only had three bedrooms above the cafe, mum and dad in one, grandma in another, which meant Jack shared a small room with my brother Paul and me, it was cosy, but we did all have separate beds!

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Time Flies

An appropriate title for our transition to BST, of which Tenerife shares. But the real reason for the choice of the title is reflecting on ‘The Kinsella’s in The Canaries’.

I’m not sure if I could accurately tell you the number of times I’ve previously been to one of the islands of Tenerife, Gran Canaria, Lanzarote or La Palma, either with my parents, as parents, with Rachel’s family or just Rachel. I am now pleased to add La Gomera to that list but I am unlikely to return, not by motorcycle in any case.

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As I sat in the dining room of the hotel having breakfast, I couldn’t help but pick up on the piped music ‘All by myself’, and just rolled my eyes. As if that wasn’t enough the following song was by Nilsson “Without you’. OMG, I was starting to think I’d come to the Lonely Hearts Breakfast Club by mistake! But it didn’t bug me, my frame of mind was such that rather than upsetting me I just laughed it off.

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Is it any wonder I don’t listen to music?

Over breakfast I was having a conversation with Shirl, I may have briefly mentioned her in the past, so apologies if I’m repeating myself? Although she is very much a real person, whom I have known since I was 12, the conversation was a virtual one, conducted through that modern medium of text. 

Shirl & I were class mates when our family moved to Grange in 1969. I went to Cartmel school for the last few months of that school year, and despite my inadequacies actually returned for the new school year in September. At school, Shirl and I were never more than classmates, she seemed quite clever, whereas I was swimming around the middle of the fish pond, only interested in football, art and tech drawing, although I did develop an interest in geography, which may not come as such a surprise? My footy interest connected me with my great friend Les, Goody and soon to become Shirl’s boyfriend Will. Us four lads became joined at the hip through football for the rest of our school life. As the years passed and I met Rachel at 17, Shirl, Will, Rachel and I connected to all become friends, we even holidayed together. Shirl and Will married whilst still teenagers ‘It’ll never last for a couple getting married so early’. They’re still married and have two daughters, and grand children coming out of their ears!

So, back to breakfast.

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Ferry & Beyond!

It’s now 4am Tuesday, in 12 hours time I’ll hopefully be at my hotel in Tordesillas, 400 miles north of Huelva. But life is in the now, and now there’s nothing more for it than to make a cup of tea, because we all know that a good English cuppa makes things better.

The first ten hours of the crossing were fine, the next ten were a bit choppy, the next ten were sick bag distribution time, damage limitation in the restaurant and stopping the waves from seeping under the side sliding doors in the public areas. By 4am it was make a cup of tea time coz there had been no chance of sleeping since midnight, despite me putting my motorcycle earplugs in to muffle the cacophony of ship and wave related noises! Yes there are creaks in the cabin like it’s some kind of galleon, there are times when it feels like I’m going to slide up the bed, down the bed, sink into the bed, take off from the bed or just fall out! The shuddering of the cabin is so random as not to help sleep, as I wait for the next big bang and shake. But now there’s a hollow banging of metal somewhere, I hope it isn’t somebody trapped?

These two photos were when it was just entertainment

Now I think of the other passengers, the poor souls who are not having a cup of tea to make things better, those who are struggling a lot more than I am with this crossing. But even I’ll be glad when we make land, although if it’s stormy across the appropriately named BoB (Bay of Biscay) I’ll be tempted to keep riding up through France!

I suspected that when we got somewhere west of the Battle of Trafalgar site, the waters may be a bit more protected. I think that has turned out to be the case as the last two hours were considerably quieter, unless it was just that cup of tea?

Safely on (wet) Land

I arrived at my hotel at Tordesillas at 4.30pm, so just over the twelve hours since my very early morning cuppa. It is warm and sunny, but it’s the first ‘warm’ and ‘sunny’ I’ve experienced today.

395 miles of the 400 that I’ve done have been cold, wet and windy, and riding towards Seville it was dark and busy. All in all 395 miles of all the things I dislike about motorcycling, which has me wondering why I’m actually doing it at all!

Time now to get out in the sun and hopefully post some better photos later……