Big Bird Bike Travels

After Rachel died and I searched around for some travel directions, in the sense of what and how I would do it, the ‘empty seat’ syndrome was very much in the forefront of my mind. To be on a motorbike with the empty seat behind wouldn’t be such an issue, there would be nothing to occasionally stare at and dig up the emotions which I was spending so much time trying to control. Also the physical and mental skills necessary to ride a motorbike are, in my humble opinion, greater than those required to drive a car, cue petrol heads scoffing at such a suggestion. There is no doubt that the consequences of ‘the wheel coming off’, carries much more significance when you only have two! So for me, motorcycling is much more immersive and engaging than driving four wheels and as such would occupy my mind to a greater degree.

As you know, the motorhome went. If I was going to travel again then it wouldn’t be in something so big, but I also had this vision of driving down the road with an empty seat beside me, and my emotional state at that time was such that it served as a bit of an albatross around my neck. So motorcycling it would be, and for those two years the bikes turned out to give me some amazing experiences, there’s no doubt that they were the right choices.

This year I’ve been travel starved, but now a re-emergence into the world of the open road beckons. Being at home twiddling my thumbs is not something that sits comfortably with me, travel ideas frequently pop into my brain and sometimes I get a little bit ahead of myself, but I look upon it as ‘youthful’ enthusiasm.

I booked a ferry to Spain for the end of November, with the intention of nipping down to Andalusia for a few weeks then, on my way home, calling in at St Malo to spend Christmas with the family. The plan was to go on the BMW bike, but things have moved on.

What made me decide to nip out and buy a Porsche sports car? Hardly a mid-life crisis! Well, it’s been a hard year, it was my birthday and it seemed like a good idea at the time, and if nothing else, I am a bit of an ideas person, sometimes with not very good ones. So the Spanish trip will be in the car, a biking mate may fill the empty seat for the first week after which I’ll have a few weeks solo. Emotionally I think I’m now ready for that hurdle, and I suspect it will be a hurdle.

Although the trip isn’t set in stone, as I can change the crossing at will, it certainly is my intention to go, and pending any unforeseen health issues the travel blog will resume. 

Here’s hoping.

I’m starting to delve into YouTube so expect more (and better) posts like this hopefully.

In March 2018 Rachel and I had just crossed the border from Albania into Greece. We parked the motorhome on a grassy area and as we gazed out across the blue sea she said “What’s that island”? Geography was never really one of Rachel’s things, she left all that mundane kind of stuff to me. “Corfu” I replied, and with that we decided to go.

The memory of those words made me think, and I’ve had plenty of time for that recently, why and how we just seemed to dovetail with our travels over the eight years of retirement together. I know there’s a danger of looking back at the past through rose tinted glasses, but life was just seamless. I remember being completely content, life was just……well just so easy! 

I loved planning trips, doing the research, deciding on the best places to see and which roads to take, I still do, and particularly during my present ‘downtime’. It’s my favourite pastime, so much so that I’ve even arranged trips for others! 

How lovely it would be to chat with Rachel again about our life and travels together! What a brilliant time we had! How did it work so well? Did I really just say “Let’s go there”, and she agreed? 🤷🏻‍♂️

When we were in Istanbul we decided to cross The Bosphorus into Asia, we both liked doing stuff like that, to push the boundaries of our travel experiences and we got a kick from being different from the mainstream campervanners.

I am so grateful for those eight years of retirement together, and will continue to look back on that time with such fondness, we were in perfect harmony, and that is something to be treasured.

When I was diagnosed with cancer in January this year, my first thought was ‘I’m so glad I bought those motorbikes and travelled so much’. When I got that news I felt so much uncertainty, life is uncertain for all of us, but that kind of news really makes you ponder what sort of future lies ahead. I thought of the fantastic trips I’d done, particularly over the previous year, and wondered if they would in fact be my last, if they were going to be, then what amazing trips they were! 

But now, as I embark on hopefully the final phase of post operative treatment, my plans are taking shape for getting back on the road. With it comes a warning not to get too far ahead of myself, so no new motorbikes, no little treats for the the ones I have and no bookings of ferries or accommodation (other than The Picos trip in July next year with Ray and Ken). If all goes well then just another eight weeks until the last remaining tubes will be removed from my body and I can be free again, free from drugs and supplementary feeds. The Big Bird Bike Travels blog will then resume with its proper travel content.

The Phoenix Rises, or at least a Big Bird.

’The phoenix is a symbol of hope, of life and of better things to come, born from knowledge and experience of difficult times and challenging circumstances’

It was 3am today when the wheels of the big BMW K1600GT came to rest after 1,000 miles of rolling over, mainly English, tarmac. I enjoy being home, I get comfort from it that I don’t experience out on the road, even though I treat myself occasionally to hotels of the standard I’m not yet used to. There is something special about being in the comfort of your own home with, in my case, the closeness of family and the many friends, plus even ex colleagues 😆, an ‘in joke’.

But the idea of the trip was to head out on the new bike to see many other friends and family who don’t live on my doorstep, yet again apologies to those I missed. Am I glad I did it? I suppose so, it was good to catch up with people who hadn’t seen me so fit and healthy for a while, and on returning home the bathroom scales confirmed that I’d done a remarkably good job on the calorie count! I saw some beautiful places I hadn’t seen before so yes, it was a worthwhile and enjoyable trip.

It was good to catch up with Gav, we had a lovely meal at the hotel/pub he recommended, and return the long overdue IOU, he had treated me to dinner on the ferry when we first met nearly two years ago!

The following morning was hot, and as I headed around the Surrey back lanes, bound for the M25 car park, I again was struck by the affluence of the area, I’m not sure where our nearest Bentley or Ferrari garage is but don’t think Lloyds have those franchises yet! Everywhere around me seemed to be oozing money, or borrowed money, and it made me think of our cloth cap, whippet, pigeon and brown ale north. The pluses of living anywhere near London seemed quite enticing until….the M25. Yes there are great benefits to this area, but when the temperature gauge on the bike was reading higher than the speed we could travel, it made the relatively empty roads and fresh clean air of the north (now the dark satanic mills are no longer oozing out their black smoke) seem much more preferable!

I managed to finally escape the ‘road to hell’ and headed north east towards Suffolk, where I would stay the night with Rachel’s brother Richard and his wife Claire. After one night I decided to take the cooler and quieter time to ride home and left their house at 9pm Sunday for the 300 mile ride back to Carlisle. With the warm temperature and lights from the bike it didn’t take long before the front of the BM was wearing a furry blanket of dead insects! The bike made the ride relatively easy, but it’s always good to get home after six hours on the road.

My mind is still in a bit of a turmoil, physically I feel amazing, in fact I feel pretty damn good in all departments, but you sense a ‘but’? 

Today I got my op date, 28th of this month. I see that as yet another turning point. I’m not worried, concerned or stressed about it. Should I wake up after the op, then I know it will be a new life, and a new life in many ways. I’ll deal with that if, or when it comes. But for now, every day is precious, it’s a life I know and one I’ve known for most of these 66 years, and it’s pretty damn good. I’m still pondering how I use this precious time, but I mustn’t waste time pondering, I have to DO! 😆

Here are some photos of the last couple of days:

It was a beautifully warm sunny morning as I saddled up the steed outside the Bear of Rodborough Hotel. It made me feel different from the many other guests in their cars, most of which were of German origin, just like my steed! Cars offer more comfort and I often ponder if there is a car that would give me a suitable buzz, but I feel motorcycling gives a greater sense of adventure, even if the hips now complain at being too long in the saddle!

I felt a sense of relief that I had changed my plan from heading to the most south westerly counties in favour of a much shorter route home going via Surrey and Suffolk. I apologise to Paul and Anita in Cornwall and David in Devon for the late change. It had been playing on my mind for a while making the extra few hundred miles venture into the most south westerly counties of England, especially as I am now a relative novice getting back into bigger distances, so it pleased me that they were understanding about my late change of plan.

Gav in Guildford had warned me that it was going to be hot in his neck of the woods, so it was vented gloves and boots for hundred mile ride over there. Getting to Guildford was pleasurable, finding Gav’s house in deepest darkest Surrey was another matter, as the satnav surely took me along every back lane of the Surrey hills!

Heading east from ‘The Bear’ and riding over ‘the commons’ and then the less touristy parts of The Cotswolds was very enjoyable. The frequent signs to Stow and Burford tried to entice me to veer left, but I’d done the ‘must see’ villages before so stayed on my planned backroad route on the fringes of this very popular area of England.

With no mega miles to do my speeds were conservative interspersed with frequent stops for essentials such as coffee and cake or photographs. Despite not being in the centre of The Cotswolds the ride still took in many chocolate box villages, the BM and I just glided along, what a smooth operator, the bike not me! 

Bunny hopping past the miles of slow moving traffic down the A41 in rural Cheshire brought the benefit of miles of open road, once past the leading tractor. It wasn’t until I crossed the border into Shropshire that my speed got hindered by an A.W.Jenkinson’s artic. The open road encouraged the smooth six cylinder engine to raise the speed to a driving licence endangering level, fortunately the restraint and maturity of the rider will hopefully have kept three points (or more) at bay!

Leaving Chester just after rush hour it was eight eighths cloud cover, overcast to non meteorologists, and a cool 13c, time for heated grips and seat to keep me in a relatively warm bubble behind the big screen. Motorcycle buddy Ken took no time in naming the new big screen Big Ears, so it naturally followed that he named me Noddy!

The Jenkinson’s lorry didn’t need to be ‘knocked off’ as, within a half a mile of entering Shropshire I was attracted to the Lockside Cafe sign, time for coffee and a cake.

It was an easy ride down the A41 then A49 to my intended scenic diversion at Ludlow, so no need to master again the complexities of the on board BMW satnav, which was a relief after I failed with my first attempt when leaving Southport yesterday! There’s something rather quaint about ye olde skill of reading road signs.

As I neared Church Stretton I couldn’t help but be drawn towards The Marches, so after a cuppa and another cake I headed up Long Mynd, a very steep narrow lane with glorious views, described on Wiki as ‘a heath and moorland plateau’.

I descended down the 25% gradient on the south western side and negotiated the myriad of narrow country lanes before emerging onto some cracking motorcycling A roads. 

I was now just heading in a generally southerly direction and inadvertently strayed the wrong side of Offa’s Dyke where I found myself in the land of a thousand consonants. 

A clue was in the signs dotted around the village of Knighton, but I still Googled it to confirm which country I was in. The village’s Offa’s Dyke Centre was closed, so I headed east back into England’s green and pleasant land and it was only a few miles before I was welcomed into Herefordshire.

A weekend away with the family.

We all have something special in our lives, be it health, a relationship or family, but not necessarily all of those things. I can’t really think of anything more important than health and family, but then I’ve lost my relationship, never been penniless, nor lacked many other things that people don’t have, freedom for example, that is yet something else we assume as a given. 

But I am very lucky, I have an amazing family and for the next two to three weeks will hopefully continue with this health I have at present.

Tomorrow I head off on a 1,000 mile trip to visit friends and family around this country. It’s England, so maybe not as exotic as some of the places you’ve followed me, but there’s still a lot to be enjoyed on our own doorstep.

Newcastle hospital has given me two weeks to live my life, If you don’t have anything better to do then follow me on my final road trip for a while.

Yes, another bike, but fear not, Reg stays!

My life is presently as it was before all this cancer stuff kicked off, I can eat and drink as normal and I’m loving it!

I won’t go into the reasons/excuses why I need yet another motorbike, but suffice to say I have about five weeks left of a life I know before I again step into the unknown. Therefore I want to make the most of this time and will shortly head off on the new steed on my mini tour of England.

Those of you who have followed me as a solo traveller over the last two and a half years will know how often I’ve mentioned the people I’ve met, many of whom I still have contact with, some just very occasionally but others quite frequently. Meeting others has enhanced my travels even though at times I went through the ‘don’t speak unless spoken to’ phase. I eventually got used to solo travelling and could start enjoying the benefits it brings.

In March last year I was on the island of La Gomera and as some of you may recall I had a chance meeting with a German couple Lothar and Gina. I’d parked Reg up and walked across the large expanse of paved area to sit at a vacant restaurant table. Lothar and Gina invited me to join them, this surprised me, they weren’t fellow bikers and I didn’t really understand why they would do such a thing, but I accepted and we started our friendly chat. At the time my thoughts and emotions were still wrapped up with the loss of Rachel and inevitably when people asked me why I was travelling alone it was like lighting the blue touch paper for me to pour out the impact of what had happened to bring me to this point. Lothar was struggling with the recent loss of his mother and I think my situation and how I was dealing with it helped him in some way.

We parted as friends with the ‘If ever you’re passing Hamburg then call in’ kind of farewell. Three months later I was passing Hamburg on my way to Norway so I did call in, stayed the night and continued north the next day. Lo and I rode together out of the city and he waved me a fond farewell.

Lo (as he prefers to be called) is another of my travel ‘meets’ who has kept in contact with me. For some reason he seems to be encouraged by how I’m living my life through what he perceives as some difficult times. Well yes, there have been some tricky situations over the last three years.

I was taken aback when he sent this to me:

Not wishing to let the grass grow, and having a day to recover from attempting to be a distinguished gentleman, I hit the road again today, but not literally! The steed of choice for today’s outing was borrowed from the local BMW dealer, a test ride? Yann would say that I don’t do test rides, I pre ride a bike I buy! 🤔

Grange-over-Sands on the Cumbrian Riviera, a sort of Cannes for the over 80s, where the only film festival will probably be a screening of Albert’s cine shown in the Victoria Hall, was my destination for a rendezvous with my good friend Les.

The Hazlemere Cafe (which my family owned for nine years) still produces excellent fare, so with my gullet presently allowing free passage from mouth to stomach, we would seize the opportunity and each demolish a full English! To say it didn’t touch the sides wouldn’t be entirely accurate, although it certainly went down problem free! 🤗

The round trip was about five hours and 130 miles, I returned a little tired, but feel all cylinders are now firing! 🤗