Photos from the ride Fuente De to Leon
The ups and downs of travel!
Staying in the Parador at Fuente De, high up in the Picos de Europa, doesn’t quite have the same ambience as cabin 912 on Brittany Ferries ‘Galicia’, just ask Nige!
If you saw his comment on the last entry you will maybe have gathered that our 33 hour crossing from Portsmouth to Santander wasn’t quite ‘plain sailing’. Of this Famous Five I think only Ernie and I came through unscathed, so it is with great relief that, now on terra firma, everybody in the party is ‘ship shape’.
It was Nige and Sue’s desire to stay at this parador and what an excellent choice it is, this is the standard I should become accustomed to!
Continue reading “The ups and downs of travel!”Bay of Biscay, or BoB to his friends
With a full day (and two nights) at sea I now have the time to kick start the grey matter into life and give you some meat on the bones (or tofu on the rye bread) of yesterday’s photos.
Cruising around the country lanes of Surrey, something I’ve never done before, inspires me to one day do my ‘Village England’ tour. There is so much to be appreciated on our own doorstep without having to venture across foreign lands. So many places to see in so little time, but it’s yet another trip on my definitely ‘to do’ list.
I was fortunate to get this brief glimpse of England’s green and pleasant land due to Guildford being closed on a Monday, my two favourite shops saving my bank account from a minor assault. I’d previously arranged to meet Gav at the Harley shop, as I rolled up I had one of those Victor Meldrew moments and added an appropriate swear word into the phrase “I don’t believe it”! Checking my mobile phone I saw that Gav had actually sent me messages warning me that the two places I was hoping to treat myself were in fact closed. But I was here now, whilst Nige and Sue were over in Woking reacquainting themselves with Ernie and Jenny, and Ernie was in turn acquainting himself with his hired BMW GS.
Gav therefore suggested to me that we meet at a local beauty spot, Newlands Corner, which gave me a 15 minute taste of a county I know nothing about. There’s no doubting that the south seems to ooze money, or at least the places I seem to get lost around, and this contrasts starkly to the flat cap and whippet image of our north.
Whilst I’m on the subject of the north, on our journey south from Cumbria, whenever I’ve ridden behind Nige and Sue and can’t help but but stare at the enormous ‘UK’ sticker on their top box. I’m like a moth being drawn to the light, but can’t help thinking it’s like the motorcyclists version of a string vest and braces! “Ay up, I’m from the north y’know”? It’s now the tour’s subject of ridicule, and despite my best efforts (when about to board the ferry) to get the young female customs officer to class it as an offensive weapon, all she said was that mine seemed a particularly small! One – nil to Mr Watson I think, although he’s obviously compensating for something!
Back to Newlands Corner, a beautiful little spot with an extensive view (for Surrey) and it was great to meet up with Gav yet again. We were fortunate to be there when a classic car club was congregating for their ‘run’ and I was particularly surprised to see a De Lorean, the car from Rachel’s favourite film, but I wouldn’t like to get up to 88mph in this particular example!
No sooner had Gav and I sat down with our coffee than who should roll up but Nige and Ernie on the acquaintance ride! The place where he was hiring it from recommended Newlands Corner, so it was with much fun that we all greeted each other. Gav gave us all a quick history lesson on the significance of the place to Agatha Christie, before Nige and Ernie headed back to collect the girls. Gav and I said our fond farewells and it wasn’t long before the ‘Famous Five’ eventually got together.
We somehow avoided the forecasted thunderstorms and it wasn’t until we were safely in the bar of the ferry that the heavens opened and the lightning started.
We’re now on the cusp of BoB, which is living up to its reputation, and keeping most of the public areas on board ghostly quiet. It hasn’t stopped me from tucking into a full English, despite the restaurant behind at the ‘bouncy end’ of the ship. After my hearty breakfast I retired to midships to get these few thoughts down and then returned to the restaurant to top up the English with a continental.
The sun now starts to make an appearance and reflects its brilliant light off the choppy swell of the sea, the warmth of its rays is a sign that things are looking good.
In 24 hours we’ll be in Spain, whereupon the ‘road trip’ begins. 🤗
The Famous Five
OK, we’re not famous but we are now five.
We will be boarding in an hour, which is far too short a time to get my brain into gear to produce anything worth reading, so here are some photos with a quick resumé.
Diversity
I ride south along the A1M with the cruise control set to its usual – just over the speed limit, but not enough to warrant three penalty points on my licence. I don’t have a great deal to occupy the emptiness in my head, other than thoughts of this latest bike trip, and how it differs from the three I’ve done over the previous three months.
In my own little world of Euro motorcycle travel, I think of the phrase ‘variety is the spice of life’, and try to kid myself that I have some spice in a life of diverse motorcycle trips.
Continue reading “Diversity”Thunder in the Glens – Harley Davidson weekend
The rather fearsome looking giant of a man with a tattooed bald head and grey beard extending down to the place his belly starts to protrude, which now extends so far out as to keep the lower half of his body in perpetual shade, is the epitome of a Harley rider. He’s sporting a denim ‘cut off’ top containing a multitude of sewn on badges and his muscular bare arms are actually ‘sleeves’ of coloured tattoos. This is obviously not a man to be trifled with, but appearances can deceive, and we should be careful of making assumptions. Nevertheless, ‘people watching’ at TITG (Thunder in the Glens) brings great amusement to Ray and me.
Continue reading “Thunder in the Glens – Harley Davidson weekend”And here’s another thing……..
Poole: Very appropriately named
I didn’t escape the town before the rain clouds started to burst, and despite the good reputation of my Scott waterproofs, they failed to do what it says on the tin! As the water seeped through to various parts of my inner clothing I had a sense of resignation that made me feel quite at ease with the situation. I knew that this was going to be a long day, 370 miles of motorway riding was just one of those things that had to be done, so I accepted it and just cracked on.
Continue reading “And here’s another thing……..”The People You Meet (again)
“Have you got an hour to spare”?
As I sat astride my bike in the capital of the island, St Peter Port, the tall, slim, leather jacketed motorcyclist engaged me in biking conversation for ten minutes until he felt he knew me enough to invite me to visit a very special man cave. Oooer you must be thinking, especially as I’m so easily led?! Well by chance I did have an hour to spare, in fact substantially more due to the ferry not departing for another eight! So Paul, on an original Royal Enfield, led me around many of the island’s country lanes until we arrived at Phil’s gaff, on the face of it a fairly typically modern bungalow, but around the back (of the house) was something quite rare!
It didn’t take me long to realise that Phil is a craftsman, a perfectionist of engineering genius. He welcomed me into his inner sanctum, confident that anybody who was an established friend of Paul’s is obviously a character of trustworthiness.
I was immediately drawn to the immaculate Triton, I bike I was too scared to buy when I had the opportunity back in 1974. This one was a work of art, you could’ve examined it under a microscope and everything was just perfect. It came as no surprise to me that it had cleaned up numerous best in show awards in England.
He had about six Triumphs in various stages of refurbishment, every item Phil had replaced, polished, painted or had chromed was as good as every nut and bolt on the Triton.
The concours conditioned AC Cobra, of which Phil had personally made the detachable roof, was almost a sideshow.
After a brew in his kitchen where we chewed the fat about his amazing work, the offers he’d turned down and simple things like how to get a perfect finish to alloy, I had a quick look in his second garage where there were yet more bikes.
So the spare hour turned into two, which was great, after which we said our fond farewells and I explored the maze of country lanes of the island’s interior.
Photographs may follow.
Sailing back to England now……..
Guernsey
This morning I left the hotel with a positive attitude wanting to like Guernsey. A bit like my naive opinion of people, everybody is good unless they prove otherwise, and in my head Guernsey set off on the same footing.
Continue reading “Guernsey”Jersey, my word (remains uneaten)
The three hour ferry delay combined with an army of ineptitude vehicle loading staff meant that I finally arrived at my Guernsey hotel at 1am this morning. Although the weather was quite hot during the prolonged wait to board (bored) I was cool about it, and laughed at the Keystone Cops style of organisation. I don’t think I’ll be quite as relaxed if the same thing happens tomorrow night for the onward sailing to England.
Continue reading “Jersey, my word (remains uneaten)”