How does that old saying go? ‘What goes around comes around?’ And so it was that after years of hustling, bargaining, and taking advantage of vulnerable motorcycle sellers in New Zealand, the exact same thing happened to me in Holland. I sold my bike. But being in the precarious position of wanting to fly home, and selling just when winter’s about to start, I got cleaned out with a steel wire brush. Ok maybe not that bad but at least a plastic bristled brush. Putting it in perspective it was only a few hundred dollars loss which isn’t bad for 8,500 km and six months of use. But I’m comparing the deal to my three other bikes I’ve owned in NZ where I actually made a profit when I sold them again. Which is a decidedly better position to be … Read More
Saddle sores
1140 km in 16 hours. Let me say that again. One thousand, one hundred and forty kilometres, in sixteen hours. That’s what it took me to ride to my holiday destination from Rotterdam right across France diagonally to the south west. Four fuel stops and a lunch break. Time of departure from Holland 3 am. Just call me crazy. I was past Paris by 9 am, enjoying the view of the Loire river and many chateaus by 1 pm (I stopped at a little town called Amboise for lunch), and I was in Parentis-en-Born by 7 pm. Talk about traffic though, it seems the whole of Europe was on the road heading on holiday. Lucky I was on a motorbike and could pass everyone. The courteousness was a pleasant surprise; most cars would see me coming up in their mirror … Read More
Am I not already on holiday?
There’s a concept known to travellers that I’ll call ‘a holiday within a holiday’. In effect it’s based on the premise that after travelling for a while, being on the move and being a traveller becomes normal day to day life. It actually comes close to being your job. You commute to and from work, in this case place to place. You complete your daily tasks – sightseeing and experiencing the culture, and you write reports – blog or email. Even meeting new people is akin to building rapport with clients. The only differences between long term travelling and work, well major ones at least, are that its way more fun than most regular jobs, and you don’t get paid for it. Unless you’re a travel writer. Offers anyone? Therefore, you still need a break, or a holiday, from your … Read More
The last of the German speaking countries
They say bad things happen in threes. Well, upon arrival back at Gomaringen in Germany I was a little surprised to find my bike was dead. Not only would it not start with the key but I pushed it up a hill about a hundred times to crash start it but no go. I figured out the battery was completely dead and beyond the chargeable stage. So, new battery. Then, after a ride through the Black Forest, my air vent cover came loose. I stopped on the motorway to get it and after about twenty cars the very last one ran it over and shattered it. Great, so new air vent cover. Then I found out Davids cousin had written off his Suzuki 750. Not a good week for motorbikes in that area. I just hope the three bad things … Read More
This is Baden-Württemberg man!
I think now is an apt time to explain the ´suiting up´ process as I´ll call it for getting ready to go on a motorbike trip. First I put the over trousers on, tightening the strap at the waist and making sure the knee and hip protectors are in place. I then slip on my riding boots and laces. Then I put a thermal or jacket on, pulling on a balaclava type scarf over the top to stop the wind coming under the helmet, and of course to stop the helmet strap chaffing my designer stubble. Next comes the jacket, which is no small feat depending on how much clothing is underneath. It also has a zip and dome clips. Keys, wallet, phone, insurance papers, ownership papers, compulsory EU crash form, check. MP3 player, or ear plugs in, helmet on, … Read More
Swiss stereotypes
The contrast between French Switzerland and German Switzerland is amazing. When you start in the south west and head north east it’s like going through a different country. In the French part they speak, surprise surprise, French. All the signs are in French and the cities are not as well kept as what you’d expect from a German. To me Geneva could have been a French city. On the ride north the change happened somewhere in between two little towns. I passed a whole lot of French signs and then just like that everything was German. I suddenly realised that I really don’t speak any German at all. Sad one. The day after I arrived in Geneva I went to the UN headquarters. It rained the whole day but it was OK, I was inside the place exploring where the … Read More
Australian pick-up lines
“Do you want some company or are you a man who likes to eat alone?” Now let me ask you one thing, does that sound like a pick up line to you? It certainly does to me. So here I was in Geneva sitting by myself in the hostel restaurant enjoying a dinner of cordon bleu and spaghetti bolognaise, complete with some sort of custard cream for dessert. This was luxury compared to my dinner of weetbix and a vitamin pill in Clermont-Ferrand the night before. Anyway, I heard the family of Australians walk in and I thought ´I should go and sit with them´. You can tell I was longing for company if I was considering eating with Australians. I´d been speaking mostly French for the last couple of days with bits of English and I really wanted to … Read More
French faire
I’ve actually been very spoiled in terms of gastronomy in France. Every place I’ve stayed in has had beautiful authentic French meal. Even when they cook something simple they manage to make it so delicious. Eating here is almost ritualistic. First you have an entrée of soup, salad, or bread. Then you have the mains. Then you have a digestive of cheese and bread, then there’s dessert. And of course you have wine during the meal. This can be done for every meal of the day, ok maybe not quite breakfast. So it appears the mainstay of the French appetite is bread, cheese, and wine. Nice. I was riding away from Ploermel after seeing Vannes the previous day – beautiful little city. I was heading to La Rochelle further down the coast. As my usual luck was continuing the weather … Read More
What a couple of days
After a breakfast of a couple of pieces of toast (now that I am on the continent) I was chugging away towards Rouen. I was still unsure of my next destination as I had contacted a few people to host me but none had replied. Foolishly I was hoping to be able to check my emails on the way and that someone would reply. On the way, Rouen was a very different city to the others I had just been to. It’s right on a river which winds its way through a gorge and Rouen is nestled in between this. Very picturesque and lots of spires I thought. But onwards I went, stopping at a camping ground to see if they had internet. This is where I found out the French I had learnt was surprisingly good and useful, even … Read More
The road to Wissant
The next day I was on the road heading for a little French village called Wissant. I must say, the ride started pretty well, okay so the weather was a bit cloudy, but the going was good and I was in high spirits. And then I hit Belgium also known as worst-roads-in-Western-Europe-for-a-motorbike. Seriously, I was on the best highway they had and there were bumps that knocked me off my saddle every ten meters. Then to make it even more interesting there were grooves in each lane where vehicles had been over and over. I felt like I was on some old cart worn Roman road. I hadn’t expected this until at least Eastern Europe. As I was going along I looked down from the highway and saw a tractor going along what looked like a better road. Where’s the … Read More
The old and the new
Anyone who knows their New Zealand history knows that it was a Dutchman that was the first European to discover NZ. But did you know that he named it after an area in Holland? Well, not him but his cartographers anyway. I rode around Zeeland in the south of Holland, or Old Zeeland if you prefer, just to see whether it really is anything like my homeland. And it was! Take away the windmills, quaint villages, and people driving on the wrong side of the road and it could have been any beach on the Coromandel or Far North. There were white sand dunes, tufts of tussock grass, and waves. Of course the sea is a lot colder being the North Sea so I don’t think there’s any swimming between the flags here. There’s also the Dutch answer to tides … Read More
The long and the short of it…
Here is a random fact. The Dutch overall are the tallest people in the world. The average height of a Dutchman is 6-foot 1 inch. So, this begs one question; where on earth did all those Dutch genes disappear on me? No, that wasn’t the question I was thinking of but is another side issue because of my mish mash of Dutch, Irish, and Polish blood. The real question is how come they make their houses and buildings so small? Seriously, tallest people in the world, smallest houses in the universe, I don’t quite see the connection. It’s not the citizens fault though; they do a fine job of expanding their living area into every imaginable space of land available to them. But they get such small plots of land. I guess the dykes and canals do take up a … Read More
Flying sardines and anti-jetlag
Long haul flights are not fun. That may sound like the understatement of the trip, but it must be said just in case you think I’m the type of traveller who defines ‘well travelled’ as the most amount of miles covered in the shortest amount of time. Flying really is a means to an end, unless of course something interesting happens while on board. The only thing that could have interested me on this particular trip would have been us having to make an emergency landing, in which case that may have been the end, not the means. Alas, this journey really was uneventful. Auckland to Sydney was the first leg, and then I had a brief respite from my flying cell. I took a train into the centre of the city and saw the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, … Read More
Farewells, pro wrestlers, and a punch in the nose
Have you ever had the feeling that the event you’re looking forward to has already passed? Like your ‘going away party’ is actually a ‘welcome back party’? That’s how I felt at mine anyway. I think I had prepared myself so well for my trip (mentally I mean, well as mentally prepared as this brain can get…) that the party seemed almost a post event. Albeit a kind of sad post event as I kept reminding myself the seven plus months away were still to come. Great party though, although as with most going away parties I guess, one mixed with feelings of excitement and sadness. Sadness that you’re not going to see most of these people for some time, except for Clive of course who’ll join me in Morocco in six weeks. We had the obligatory round of poker … Read More