JX2 ADVENTURES

Blog, blog, blogging away:

           

7/28:  we packed up our tents and headed to town…somewhere in Austria.  That’s the problem with moving every day, and with staying in small towns, is I can’t ever remember where I am or was.   Anyway, we stopped at  a small café/bar for breakfast.  I ordered coffee and a croissant.   I was thinking French style croissant, but I got a whole basket of different kinds of bread.   This is usually what happens to Joe.  He just points at the menu and doesn’t ask any questions.  So, he gets some really wild meals…. Some good and some not so good.  I usually ask a lot of questions, even if I can’t speak the language.  I make sounds, faces and hand gestures and usually I can tell what not to order.   Well, that was the problem since we left Italy.   I’m ok at deciphering Spanish, French and Italian, at least a little… but with German and Austrian…. I have no idea what is going on; either with menus or street signs.   The street signs could warn us of anything and we wouldn’t know.   They could say there are wild, carnivorous, crazed, motorcycle rider eating, opossums ahead and we wouldn’t know.   We would just ride right into the trap, thinking the sign said yield or slow down or something.

We took a road suggested by the campsite owner from the night before.  It was a crazy, winding road through the mountains.   There were free range cows, sheep and horses along the road.  The cows all have bells around their necks.  It reminds me of a commercial.  I expected those Riccola cough  drop guys to jump out with their horns.   We got back on the highway to make some time, and there were a lot of holidayers heading home.  We took a road through the tip of Germany, before heading back into Austria to Mattighofen, where our bikes where made.  Germany looks exactly as I expected.   There are little patches of forest, followed by fields, mainly wheat and corn, followed by little villages.   It is just like many of the movies I have seen from TV and old war movies.   It’s just like Call of Duty, the video game.   I could just hear the soliders boots clomping around the corner. ( shhh…I think I hear something).   On the border, we crossed a couple of old bridges that still had the old guard towers.   It really made me think about how much had happened here and how many sacrifices were made in WWII. 

Anyway, we rolled into Mattighofen and couldn’t find a hotel.  It’s a small town of maybe 6000 people.  So, we stopped on the main street and walked to a café/bar.   The owner came out and we asked about a hotel.  He said there wasn’t one but he knew of a bed and breakfast.  He called for us and said someone would come down to get us and show us the way.  He was sitting with a group of about 5 guys, drinking beer.  As Joe and I started to sit at a nearby table, they insisted we sit with them.  They asked about our bikes and what we were doing.  We gave them the low down, and they loved it.  They would break off into Austrian or German, or whatever they were speaking, and howl with laughter and then they would ask a few more questions, and repeat.   Most of them didn’t speak English well, but they knew enough to give us a hard time about how our bikes would get stolen in Russia or how I needed to get a wife there.   They bought us beers, and within 10 minutes, a blonde haired guy arrived to take us to the B&B.   Well, this turned out to be Andy.  We finished our beers, hopped on the bikes and followed Andy a few miles away to a 3 story, stereotypical looking German/ Austrian house.  Like most, it had the window flower planters and was very beautiful.  Both Austria and Germany are very clean.  You don’t see a lot of trash.  Even the modest homes are very well kept.   Anyway, Andy made room in a smaller garage for us to park our bikes, which also housed his motorcycle and his girlfiriend’s; both sport bikes.  Turns out, Andy’s girlfriend’s mother owned the house, and he and the girlfriend helped run the place.  He spoke only a little English, so we were back to gesturing.   When we would tell him things, he often responded with something that sounded like, “Ah-So”.  We later found out it means something like, “wow.”   Austrians and Germans say it a lot.  I think it is like when we say “really?”.   Anyway, Andy showed us to our rooms.  We got separate rooms, with their own little bathrooms, TVs and everything.   I think we were both a little giddy to have our own private quarters.   He told us they were serving dinner at 6:30 and to come downstairs.   We headed down and they have a full bar and several tables for meals.   The first night we had goulash, which was excellent, and several beers.   We had a good time talking to Andy and hanging out.

 

7/29:  It rained pretty hard all night, and I slept great.   We had breakfast which consisted of a soft boiled egg, bread and croissants, marmalade, cheese, and thinly sliced ham, with OJ and coffee.  We would come to get used to this breakfast, because it is pretty much common everywhere we stayed across Austria and Germany.  

We made it to the KTM plant and walked to the shop, where they sell all kinds of KTM apparel.  The girl said there were no tours at this time because many people were on holiday.  Imagine that!.   I was pretty disgusted.  I had tried to get in touch with KTM in America and spoke to some girl in California, but I found them to be difficult to communicate with; and even harder to nail down to specifics as far as a tour or any kind of technical or logistical support for our trip.   I told them from the beginning we were not seeking money or freebies….we just wanted to have a contact so we could get parts and instructions in case of a breakdown in the middle of nowhere….like Mongolia.   So, I just walked outside, and let Joe handle it.  To that point, I had been in charge of all logistics, but I was ready to throw in the towel.  Joe went in the information center and started working on them, while I strolled around grumbling under my breath.   He apparently told them we had come all the way from Texas and wanted a tour and we were riding the same route as Ewen McGregor and Charlie Boorman.   If you don’t know, KTM had a chance to sponsor them, but declined; leading to BMW being their sponsor.  Huge mistake, because no other motorcycle tour has garnered so much attention.   This must have gotten their attention, because they called Martin, in marketing, and told us to be back the next day at 12:30 p.m. for a private tour.   Good job, Joe!

We headed back to town and a huge storm blew through, which we waited out under an awning at the bank.   We spent the rest of the day catching up on naps and blogs. 

That night, it was downstairs for dinner again.  We had fried chicken.  I thought that was pretty funny.  I rode a motorcycle to Germany to eat fried chicken.  It was good and I’m not complaining.  It just struck me as ironic.  Anyway, a few beers later, and then a few beers after that, Andy came out with his accordion, a guitar, and some percussion stick, with several bells, a bongo- like drum, and a bicycle horn on top.  He gave me the guitar and Joe the stick.  I went up and got my guitar, and it was on.  He played Austrian folk music and I attempted to play with him.   There were  a couple of groups of older people playing cards, smoking, and drinking.  Let me tell you:  those Austrians like to party.   Some really drunk guy started trying to sing to the songs Andy was playing.  He would usually get through the first verse and the chorus and then he would kind of peter out.   Eventually, the owner told him “good night” fairly forcefully.  That was his sign to go home.  Well, after a while Andy pulled out the Jagermeister, and it was all down hill from there.  Then, a guy from KTM, who had ridden the 2007 Paris-Dakar rally showed up and insisted on buying us a couple of more rounds of Jager.   Ouch!!  Yep, they like to party.    They would start getting to the bar in the morning and someone was always down there playing cards, drinking and smoking.  They are pretty gregarious and are very friendly.   They laughed a lot when we were around.  I don’t know if it was with us, or at us.   I didn’t really care.  They were fun.   

 

7/30 :  Did I say ouch?  Well, I meant it.   We limped down to breakfast, and the soft-boiled egg didn’t go down so smoothly.   Soft boiled eggs kind of look like Cadbury eggs… just not as tasty.   We got packed, loaded up, and headed to the KTM factory.   Andy didn’t come to work until 1 p.m., so we missed him.  Joe was pretty bummed about not getting to say bye.  So, I said we should just go back by the house on the way out of town.  We met up with Martin and he showed us the KTM plant.  We were pretty impressed.  He was a really nice guy.   Everybody was getting off for holiday, and they were running out of there..  The good thing is he gave us his contact information and told us he would try to help  us if we ran into any difficulties with the bikes.  That made me feel a lot better.

We headed back to the B&B.   As soon as we pulled up, Andy came running out and said in broken English, “You stay one night.”  We said we would love to but we needed to get moving because we had to get going.  We took some pictures and said our goodbyes.  Joe and I agreed, over the radios, that we were both sad to leave.   We really hit it off with Andy.  I think it was several things.  We stayed at a nice place that had a homey feel, with people we liked.   We had been on the road for almost 2 months and we usually just stay for a night before moving on.  Our contact with people is just a conversation… usually the same conversation over and over about the trip.   At the B&B, we had time to make a friend.  I guess what makes it sad is that, despite him saying he would like to come to the US to visit, we know we will probably never see him again. 

So, we waved and rode off into the rain.   Time to get moving again.   We rode on some smaller roads, but there are just too many villages to make good time.  We had to jump on the autobahn.   We crossed back into Germany and made our way to a campground at dusk.  It was next to an amusement park, that was totally empty but had lights on.   It was called something “land”, and we stayed at a somewhat rundown campground next door.  We drove back into the little town and picked a random restaurant.  It seemed to be pretty authentic German food, and the waitress spoke no English.  I was able to order Bratwurst with sauerkraut and Joe had some kind of snitzel.   When we got back to the campground, the gate was locked.  So, we had to take off our boxes, drive through the pedestrian gate and then put the boxes back on.   The campground had only numbered big lots, instead of marked individual campsites like most campgrounds.  So, you could camp anywhere in the numbered lot, which were 30 yards by 30 yards.  We camped in the middle because it was the driest place, since the rain had soaked everything.  

Both of us are getting antsy to start moving east towards home.  We were still going north, and it didn’t feel like we were making much progress.

 

7/31:  I heard a bunch of noise around my tent early in the morning.   I assumed it was Joe or someone from the other family camping in our lot…. But I heard several cars drive in and it sounded like a lot of commotion.  Our plan was to hang out a little longer in the morning than usual because everything was still wet from the rain and the dew.   We wanted to wait for the sun to come out and give it time to dry out everything.   I hear Joe say, “You aren’t gonna like this..”   So, I stick my head out and there we are right in the middle of several campers.   These people have driven up right beside our tents, which were previously 40 feet from anyone else, and have parked right beside us.   They are now all sitting in lawn chairs and their cars waiting for us to move our tents so they can position their camper trailers.   Their chairs are about 10 feet from us, facing us.   There are numerous kids running around, with two of them wearing no pants, only shirts.  Screaming, crying, and the men are grumbling, just looking at us.   So, Joe and I scramble out of our tents and start packing up everything, and trying to dry it in the sun as much as possible.   But it’s just not working.  I really am not a fan of this holiday crap.   It’s just a nightmare.  It’s like having spring break at Daytona all over the country, except add in kids and old people.  Other than the hordes of people, traffic, heat, everything being closed, and the lack of personal space, holiday is great!!   Ok….over it now!

So, we headed out to the autobahn, which would be great in a Porsche, or even a sport bike… but not a packed down dual sport bike.  Sure, our bikes will go fast, but it’s not comfortable… not enough wind protection, and we are carrying a lot of weight.   We can cruise about 75-80, but that is fast enough on these bikes.  The problem with the autobahn is that the speeds vary so much.  All of the trucks drive in the right lane, and they are really good about it, unlike our trucks in the states, who screw up traffic all the time.   If there are 3 lanes, then the rest of the people are mainly using the middle lane because they are passing the trucks…., and the tiny midget cars that don’t go fast.   If you are in the middle lane, and need to pass, then you obviously go into the fast lane to pass.  The problem is you better be looking as far back in your rearview mirror as possible because it is pretty common for a car to come whizzing by at 120 mph.   In fact, more times than not, it is a black station wagon, which is easily the most popular car in this area…. Especially black Audi station wagons.   That’s the last thing I want to happen is to get creamed by a station wagon.  If I’m gonna get run over, I’d prefer a Porsche, a Ferrari, or something cool.

 

We rode to Ruppichteroth, which is where the friends we met on the English Channel Ferry, Karin and Holger, live.   I’m not sure they really thought we would show up when they invited us to come visit, but there we were.  Actually, we pulled into town and stopped at an ice cream parlor.  Of course, it was mandatory we have ice cream since we were sitting at one of their tables.  I protested but Joe made me eat it.  We tried to call Karin several times on my cell phone but I couldn’t get it to go through.  So, Joe asked some lady if she knew Karin or Holger, and she said no, but she would call them.  So, she did and Karin answered, and told us to come over. 

We got to Karin and Holger’s house, which was very nice.  Holger was away on a motorcycle ride, and was not scheduled to be home until the next day.  Karin showed us around.   The two of them remodeled their own house and it was fantastic.  In fact, they do everything.   They remodel; Karin sews; she makes whisky (we tried walnut, blueberry, quince, and more); she makes preserves/ marmalade, which we had for breakfast; she makes mustard; and the list goes on.  Holger was in a German metal band, and still has the long hair to prove it.   

Anyway, Karin took us out to dinner at a local German restaurant and helped us order authentic dishes, and good German beer.  Really, I had no choice.  I think it’s a law that you must drink beer in Germany.   She had spoken to Holger on the phone and he said he was cutting his trip short and riding home.  He pulled up in the rain on his motorcycle,  a  Triumph tiger, and joined us.   We had a great meal and headed back to their place, where we sampled more German beer and some of Karin’s homemade whiskey/liqueur.   Holger showed us a DVD from his band.  It was great.  The quality of the video and the sound was incredible, and the music was good, assuming you like good metal.  They were all dressed in leather and even had a couple of hot chicks dancing around the stage.  It was rockin’.    Then, he and I broke out the guitars.  He showed me a couple of his originals and I played a few songs I know.  Then, he got out a Beatles song book and we butchered some of their songs. Lol.   Actually, by this time, the homemade spirits improved our sound considerably.  A great time was had by all.    We finally wore out at some wee hour of the morning.

 

 

8/1  I rolled out of my single bed on the 3rd floor of Karin and Holger’s house.  Joe and I were staying in their game room, fully equipped with a bar, foosball table, and a dartboard.   We stumbled down the winding staircase and made our way to the first floor.  Karin had prepared a fantastic breakfast.    It was a traditional German breakfast, with numerous types of bread, soft boiled eggs, all kinds of cheeses, and thinly sliced meats, and Salmon.   Of course, we had some of her homemade marmalade.  Hell, she might have forged the utensils for all I know.  Is there anything this woman can’t do?!!   

After breakfast, we dried out our tents and Holger helped us plan some of our route and scout out ferries ( I’m talking boats, people!)

That afternoon, they took us to some castle ruins nearby.  There was a church , a tower, and a village still in use in the old castle walls.  So, we walked around while they translated.   Of course, we had to stop for some German dessert, which was like waffles with powdered sugar, and one with cherries.  I also was forced to try another German beer, against my will of course.  It rained on and off during the day and really started once we got back to the car.

The funny thing is that Holger had asked us if we wanted to ride the bikes.  Karin rides too.  In fact, the two of them met at a motorcycle hotel, when each of them were on solo trips.  How cool is that?  

Anyway…. The funny part about the car is they have this tiny little Peugeot, which is a typical European car but tiny for American standards.  It’s a little 2 door.  Joe insisted we take the car so we could talk.  I was voting for the bikes, because, as some of you know, I’m not overly found of tight spaces, especially when its hot.   So, we piled in the car with Joe and Karin in the back and me and Holger in the front.  The ride to the castle was fine…. It was about 30 minutes long and we had the windows open, as well as the sun roof.  The ride back was a different story. For those of you who don’t know,  Joe tends to get motion sickness on occasion.  We took the backroads on the way over, and they are a little curvy.  I was fine with it and I think Holger was having fun driving his go-cart, ahem…. I mean car, through the twisties.  But on the way back, it was pouring.  So, we couldn’t’ roll down the windows or the sun roof.   Because there were four adults stuffed in this tiny car, the windows immediately started fogging up.   Holger tried turning the defrost on cold, but it wasn’t working.   European A/C’s are not so great…this you should know from my previous posts.   So, he had to turn on the heat.   Oh yeah!   So, there we are, stuffed in this tiny car, with the heat going full blast, whipping around corners in the rain.   I was getting a little antsy because….well it’s a small space and it was hot (keep up with me here.)   Joe was not doing so well in the back… he was really feeling it because of the little car zipping around, and the heat, which he tells me makes his motion sickness worse.  I had my window slightly cracked and he trying to put his head as close to it as possible, even with the rain coming through it.   By the time we got home, he was looking pretty green around the gills.  Lol.  Serves him right for picking the car over the motorcycles!!  Just kidding… about serving him right, but not about his decision to pick the car…but it was funny. (Holger and Karin: we loved your car and the trip was great…. Lol).  

Back at the house, they insisted on making us German BBQ, which was wonderful.  Steak, sausages (bratwurst), chicken, and some kind of meat on a stick.  It was like ground meat with seasoning placed on a stick and grilled.    Karin also made this fantastic garlic cheese that Joe and I scarfed down in seconds.  It was all delicious.  Afterward, Karin invited her friend Heidi over for drinks and we sat around shooting the breeze.  Karin and Holger speak excellent English, so we had no problems communicating with them.   They attempted to teach us some German, but all I learned was the word for owl, bat, and lawyer.   Lawyer sounds pretty evil…hmmm.   I think Karin is trying to get me to move to Germany by filling me with delicious beer and food, and bringing over her single friends.  We’ll see.  Lol   

I love hearing them speak German. It’s kind of a rough sounding language, and it’s difficult to tell if they are arguing, fighting, happy, sad, or whatever.  

We had another fantastic night.   We watched some a video of Karin and Holger going to Sweden, I think, to drive dog sleds.  They actually travel a lot and the cool thing is they take pictures and video and send them off to some company that makes them into movies and books.   So, they have great dvd’s and books from all of their trips.    Finally, we had to retire, as they had to go to work the next morning and we had to get going.  Actually, Karin took half a day off to help us get things together and mail packages.  I didn’t want to have another Italian “job” at the post office. 

That is one thing that wears on you after a while.: because of the communication difficulties, doing the simplest tasks, that you normally don’t even think about, can become very difficult.  Easy things such as ordering food or mailing a package can become all day ordeals, or sometimes impossible.  Plus, not only can we not communicate effectively in many places, our entertainment is very limited.  We can’t watch TV or movies, and we can’t read anything.  In places where there is no internet, all we can do is talk to each other.   So, all those things that we normally do to relieve stress or just relax, are taken away from us.   Believe me, I’m not complaining because the trip has been great so far.  I’m just trying to explain the nuances of our experiences.

Anyway, back to our story:   the next morning Holger was gone when we got up, and of course, Karin had breakfast for us.   We gathered our stuff and followed her into town.  Before leaving I had to say bye to my new friends in the field behind their house.   From the first day there, I had made friends with a couple of old sheep living in the field behind the house, who appeared to be near retirement age (no sheep jokes are allowed here).  So, I would get apples that had fallen from the apple tree in the yard, cut them up, and feed them to the sheep.  Even though I couldn’t speak German, we still seemed to be able to communicate pretty well.

So, Karin helped us mail packages and we said our goodbye’s.  She told us since it was already noon, that we should just go buy our supplies and come back and spend another night with them.  Just as in Austria with Andy, we really wanted to, but we knew it would be even harder to leave the next day.    We made some great friends in Germany, in Karin and Holger, and I certainly hope they will come visit us.   Joe and I were a little sad leaving.  It is great to be on the road, riding the bikes and seeing the world, but nothing compares to time spent with good friends.   From the bottom of my heart, thanks so much for everything, Holger and Karin.  It was an honor and a pleasure to meet and spend time with you.  I certainly hope to see you again. (maybe next time, we can all ride in my truck, though… lol)

Ok…so I’m a little behind in blogging, but I am determined to get up-to-date before our push into Russia.  So, when we last left off:  I had just blown a gasket in France…

 

7/25:  I got up at the campground at 6 a.m.   I told Joe I’d meet him at the ETAP, which as you know is not my favorite place.   So, I get all packed up, on the bike, and ride to the gate.  It’s 6:45 and it’s closed.   I tried the code they gave me on the keypad and nothing.   The security guard, who is this bald guy with an earring, tells me in French that the gate doesn’t open until 7a.m.   I am just assuming that is what he said since I don’t understand French, but through a lot of motioning and hand gestures, that is what I understood.   So, defeated, I go back to my motorcycle and mope around for 15 minutes.  Of course, I’m expecting someone to show up and open the gate or it to be on a timer.  Oh no!   At 7 a.m., exactly, and not a minute early, the same security guard gets out of his car and punches in a code opening the gate.   Are you kidding me?!!  Word of advice:  If you are a bald security guard, you look stupid with an earring.   Ok…I’m over it.  

 

So, I headed to meet Joe.  We got on the road early and traffic was light, as was the wind.  We hit the freeway and got the Hell out of there.   We skirted up and away from the beach and into the Alps.   Traffic started to pick up as the day went on, but it wasn’t too bad.   Things were good. … We were making progress and the weather was nice.  Beautiful views, great weather, on a motorcycle.  What more can you ask for?   We passed several big lakes in the mountains.  People were out enjoying the great weather:  rafting, windsurfing, kite boarding.   There were motorcycles everywhere.   Of course, everyone is riding sport bikes and darting in and out of cars.  The one thing about Europeans who ride is they ride in full gear… many of them in full racing leathers; and so are the girls on the backs of the bikes.   

We pulled into Italy late afternoon, and immediately it was apparent something was different.  The speed limits were much lower and traffic slowed considerably.  We went through countless tunnels.   They love a tunnel in Europe.  No switchbacks here.  We pulled into some small town and traffic was pretty bad.  So, we followed a guy on a big Harley down the middle of the road, lane splitting and got out of town.   However, it didn’t help much, there are just too many people; and the villages are too close together, with one every few kilometers.   There are just too many people for such a small space.  So, we pulled over and checked the GPS for a campground.  Fortunately, there was one within a few km.   We took off and the GPS led us up a steep hill on a one lane road.   We popped out on the top at a little campground run by an Italian guy who had lived in London for seven years, so his accent was difficult to place.  I thought he was Irish….Joe thought German.   We set up camp and met a group of people who had gathered for someone’s birthday.  They  wandered up to look at the bikes, and, as everyone does, stare at the license plates in disbelief.  We knew we probably couldn’t talk to them because we don’t know Italian, but we were surprised that our lack of communication was for a different reason:  they were deaf.  I guess they had attended the same school and were having a reunion/birthday bash.   There were probably 15 of them (they are in a picture on our friends page), and they were very interested in our journey.   So, we pulled out our maps and showed them where we had been and where we were going.  The owner of the campground remarked to us that he was surprised at how well we communicated with them, despite not knowing sign language.  We told him that we had been in numerous countries (including England…lol) where we didn’t speak the language and had to get by communicating through other means.  The funny thing is he said he had to put the group on the edge of the campground.  They asked him to leave the lights on late at night, which he was reluctant to do….They told him they wanted to stay up and talk to each other. He finally realized they couldn’t “talk” without the lights on, since they used sign language.  He said he put them off by themselves because they made a lot of noise, especially laughing, and they don’t realize how loud they are.   All things I had never thought about.   It was nice meeting them.

 

We headed over to the restaurant, where I drank way too much inexpensive Italian wine.  The dinner was a buffet, which was great because it was a sampling of all kinds of authentic Italian dishes…. Lots of peppers, vegetables, cheeses and thinly sliced meats.   Also, some kind of strange little fish (whole) that weren’t so good.     The campground owner came over and talked to us for a little while, and brought us a traditional Italian after dinner drink that was in a tall shot glass.  Of course, we just threw them down.  He said, “well, most people sip them, but I guess you can do it that way.” Lol.   Hey, give me a clue here, huh!   People from all these countries keep giving me shots…. How am I supposed to know when to sip or shoot?

 

7/26   Got up and headed toward McDonalds, to hopefully use the internet, and then to find a post office to mail some stuff home (souvenirs and things we decided we didn’t need.)   Let me just tell you that McDonalds in Italy can’t hold a candle to the ones in France and the internet sucks in Italy.  Maybe I’m generalizing a little.   Good news is I have no reason, anymore, to go to McDonalds.  To the post office…

So, I go into the mall to attempt to buy a few things to send home, and I immediately feel like I’m at a tryout for Jersey Shore.   All of the guys under 30 are tatted up, wearing tank tops, and their sunglasses….that’s inside mind you.   So, I put my sunglasses on.  I didn’t however get a tattoo, yet, but I guess you never know.  Well, I didn’t find anything to buy, and we took off to the post office, which was not in a great area of town.  Of course, in typical European style, everything is closed…holiday….lunch….mid-day siesta…whatever.   The post office was open.  Joe waited by the bikes while I went inside.   The post office must get attacked or robbed often because they are hidden behind this vault of steel and thick glass.  You have to put your package inside this little room with two doors.  You open the outside door, put your package inside, and close the door….then they open their door and take the package out.   So, there I am trying to explain I want to mail a package to the US and all I have is Joe’s phrase book, which has French, Italian, and German.  It has a lot of useful phrases like “it is raining like cow’s piss”.  I’m not joking.   After 45 minutes with little luck, this Vietnamese guy shows up and he speaks some English and apparently some Italian.   So, I buy a box from them and fill out several forms in duplicate.  When I finish and give them the box, through the series of doors, they suddenly inform me that they can’t mail it.    My translator has left, so I still don’t know why.   All I do know is I spent 1.5 hours and spent $2.50 Euros for nothing.  Well, that’s not exactly true.  I bought a lovely box, which I immediately threw away in the dumpster outside, since I couldn’t carry it on the motorcycle.   I came out of the post office, which was about 95 degrees inside, sweating and laughing maniacally.  I think Joe though I had gone crazy.  He had been sitting outside watching the bikes.  The good news is he didn’t have to go inside to mail his package.

 

We were supposed to go meet with a friend of my uncle who manufacturers a special type of shotgun at his place, somewhere near Milan… so we laughed off the post office incident and took off.  I say “took off”, only meaning we started the bikes and tried to leave what turned out to be the city of Turino.   There was road construction everywhere.  We sat in traffic for at least an hour, with the mercury quickly rising to the high 90s.   Our bikes started getting really hot, and Joe’s starting overheating.  We had to take off and split lanes to get some air into the radiators to cool off the bikes.  The choice was overheat sitting there, or ride like maniacs.  By the time we hit the freeway, we were drenched with sweat, the bikes were very unhappy, and we were a little frazzled.  We had just entered Italy and it was crazy.  We were supposed to go all the way to Florence.   Of course, we had already decided not to ride motorcycles into Rome because we heard it was worse than London.  We stopped at a gas station and made a quick decision that it was time to head north; not only to escape the crowds but to escape the heat.  My fear is that we were stressing the bikes too much.   The hardest part of the trip is Russia and Mongolia, and we need our bikes in tip top shape.  It was then that we decided to skip going to the gun shop, because it involved driving through Milan.  Um…. No thank you.

 

So, we get back on the freeway, and for some reason the booth didn’t give Joe a ticket.   You get a ticket at the beginning, like a parking garage back home, and then give the attendant at the next toll booth the ticket and get charged accordingly.   So, when we reached the toll booth, my toll was $9.70, and because  Joe didn’t have his ticket, they tried to charge him something like $70.  Of course, the toll dude didn’t speak English and Joe doesn’t speak Italian….so I think they just had a yell off.   The result is Joe paid $10 and got some ticket that seemed to mark him as a violator.  We  wondered how this would affect our ability to ride on the freeway.  I told him to just file it next to the parking tickets we got in London.

 

We plotted out a route away from any cities, as much as possible and headed due north.  Enough of Italy already.  We ended up at big lake that borders Italy and Switzerland and found a campsite.   Campsites on lakes during holiday…. Not a great idea.   The campsite operator originally told us they were full, but then said, “well, maybe we have something.”  Let me just tell you if you didn’t know….this is not a good sign.   It was not really a spot but only a little spot of grass between two campers.  We were too tired to push on, so we agreed.    We could barely set up our tents.  It was a typical big European campground:  restaurant, store, big wash house, etc.   It was packed with people from up north, Holland and Denmark, mainly.   We had a nice dinner and I had a little more Italian wine.  One great thing was the tira mi su I had for dessert.  Best ever.   The one thing we knew at this point was that we couldn’t take too much more of the heat and traffic.  It was stressing us and the bikes too much.    It was time to head for Austria and the KTM plant.   We didn’t know what the weather was like there, but our bet was that if we kept heading north, it had to get cooler at some point.

 

7/27  It started sprinkling early this morning.   I continue to play chicken with Mother Nature and not put on my rain fly.  So, I am always paranoid that it will start raining.  It is remarkable how much wind blowing through leaves sounds like rain when you are in a tent.  So, I’m constantly looking outside,” is it rain or leaves?”   Just put on the rain fly, damnit!!

 Up early and on the bikes to hopefully beat the heat and the holidayers.  We rode around the lake at 30 mph for probably an hour and a half.  There are some beautiful big houses, but the area is very crowded.   We pass what looks like a toll booth and realize we have just entered Switzerland.  That is how it is these days in Europe, you pass from one country to the next and may not even realize it because no one checks your papers or ask you any questions.   We stopped for gas, which was $1.63 per liter (about $6.50/ gallon).  This is not the place for a Suburban.    We rode through a long tunnel which was spooky.  The temperature outside was about 60 degrees.  As we rode further into the tunnel, the temperature rose dramatically…. Up to 95… and the air became acrid and smoky, burning our eyes.  There was a ton of traffic, especially big trucks.  I radioed to Joe and we were on the same page.  We were thinking something was wrong….a wreck with a fire and we are riding into it.   I was a little panicked, but we rode through and everything was fine.   I’m not a fan of long tunnels and they are all over the place.   As soon as we popped out, the breathtaking beauty of the Alps captivated us.   The cities sit in this valley, bordered by steep mountains, with water falls occasionally cascading from the cliffs.  It is something that pictures can’t truly capture.

On the mountainside, there is an occasional castle or church.  Of course, every place, from villages to cities, in Europe has a big church.   It is cool to see how the designs change.   The one thing they have in common is they are always tall and visible from far away.   We stopped at some castle ruins so I could get my castle fix.  The remains of a wedding were still there….tents, chairs, etc.    I think I’ll get married at a castle.

We stopped and had $20 sandwiches.  Europe is damn expensive, and this is now with the Euro being way down compared to the dollar.  Then, we had to pay to go to the bathroom.  Jip!

We met a guy at the rest stop who rides a 2007 KTM 990 adventure and has ridden Africa and Australia.  He gave us some good advice about the bikes.

 

We kept riding and before we realized it, we had entered the country of Lichtenstein.  Huh?!  What happened?!   I didn’t realize that was even a real country.  I thought it was made up for that Heath Ledger movie, “A Knight’s Tale”.   Anyway, we drove through it in 30 minutes and into Austria.  Again, we passed borders and only realized it because of signs.   On the way, we went through countless tunnels, with the longest being 16km.  That’s like 9.5 miles.  It was older and only 2 lane, and I was behind a big smoke spewing truck.  I almost just took off and passed everyone, but I contained myself.  No wrecks, no fires.   I know what can happen in tunnels.  I saw that Stallone movie…. Of course, I think I was only one of seven, but I digress.

Overall, this was a better day.  The weather was cool and less traffic towards the end.  I think we are both getting a little homesick… not only for my friends and family, but for the things that are familiar to me.   Frankly, I’m tired of being a tourist.  I’m ready to just ride.

It’s been a while since I’ve been able to blog, or at least post anything, because access to the internet has been scarce and when we have had it, it has been poor.   So, here is the catch all blog to update ya’ll.

7/18: Brad, Joe, and I headed to the Mediterranean cost, not knowing exactly where we would end up, but just hoping to find a place.  We ended up at a medium sized city called “Peniscola”.  Yeah, it made me laugh, too.  It has that little Spanish squiggle over the “n”, so I guess that makes it sound a little better.   We made it there at dusk and the beach was packed with people walking up and down the boardwalk.  There is a big castle on a hill right on the coast.   Unbelievably, we found an old Spanish styled hotel with a vacancy and a fairly normal sized (American normal) room; and they had internet.   We headed out to try out some of the cuisine.  It’s ok, but kind of strange.  Of course, they serve French fries with every meal.  I don’t know what it is with these Europeans, but they love a French fry.  I definitely like Mexican food much better than Spanish.  

Being the flan connoisseur that I am, I attempted to order it, but the waiter said the kitchen had closed.  Huh?!  I’ve never had a meal somewhere and been told they are closed before the meal is over.  Well, that’s Europe for ya….    We walked around the beach for a while and watched a few street performers doing the same juggling comedy act that street performers do all over the world.  There must be a Street performer college somewhere.   We had a couple of drinks and walked up to the castle.  I sure do love a castle.

7/19:  We headed out of Peniscola (Lol) and toward Madrid.  The plan was to make it a two day trip, but after riding with Brad many times, I know better.  I told Joe that Brad would want to ride on into Madrid.  He gets this “We’ve got to get there” mentality and we always end up riding until we drop.  I had seen a castle the day before and wanted to stop there.  I could tell  Joe and Brad weren’t keen on the idea, but damnit, I wanted to see the castle.   Did I ever tell ya’ll how much I love a castle?  So, we stopped and I told them I would check it out and be back in 10 minutes.  Well, wishful thinking !   It is way up on a hill, and inside the wall is a city.  I started walking up and would run into a dead end or have to turn.  It probably took me 20 minutes just to get to the castle, and then it was quite a hike to get inside.  I’m guess it is about half a mile up the hillside.   It was definitely worth it.  It had been in service from the 700’s until the early 1900’s; being used by the Romans, Muslims, and the Spaniards.   The last person to use it put a big canon there in about 1920.  It was truly incredible, to think about all the people that had lived and died in that place.   So, I got my castle fix and headed back down the Joe and Brad with drinks in hand.  I, again, took a few wrong turns and ended up on the wrong side of the walls and had to walk all the way around.   They were laid out in the shade and I was drenched from the hike. 

 

We took off from there and rode for a while before stopping for a coffee.  Spanish coffee is either “con leche” or “solo”.   I preferred no milk, which means it comes in a thimble and is strong as motor oil.   I guess that’s why it comes with a giant sugar packet.   It’s definitely got some kick to it.  I’m thinking we might solve our crack problem if we brought it to America.

Another thing about Spain that’s awesome are the roads.  I had heard they are great for motorcycle riding, and we rode some of the best roads I have ever ridden on a motorcycle; small curves; big, sweeping curves; ascents; descents; in the mountains, in the plains.   You name it, they have.  By the way, we didn’t see any rain in the plains in Spain. ( I had to get that out of the way).

We rode all day and made it to Guadalajara, which is about 30 miles north of Madrid.  We decided to push on so we could get a room and not have to change for a few days. 

I could tell Madrid is fairly crazy when we started to get there.  The traffic on the interstate began to pick up immensely and we could see giant apartment complexes everywhere.   Spain is mostly apartments I have learned.  Someone told us the government discourages individual house ownership.  So, everyone is packed in these giant apartment buildings.   It’s wild.  We ended up downtown, and had to backtrack to our hotel.   It took us over 2 hours to find it.  We had GPS and maps and could actually see it, but could not get to it.  You can’t make U-turns in Madrid.  You have to exit and go through ten roundabouts, all the while being tailgated by some extremely impatient jackass in some little, ridiculous midget car( no offense midgets), who is in a hurry to go nowhere.   If you can’t tell, we were a little stressed.  Try keeping 3 motorcycles together through 50 roundabouts with cars cutting you off and everyone honking.   Joe’s GPS is not so great for city travel anyway, and it usually takes us a while to find anything, even in small towns.  But in the big city, forget it.  We looked like a combination of  Shriners at a parade, and clowns.  At one point, Brad got ahead of us and went around a roundabout.  I took a different exit from him accidentally, and had to turn around.  By the time I turned around, Brad was coming at me trying to find me.   I went back into the roundabout, only to find Joe had just given  up, and was going in circles.   By the time we got to the hotel,  I was almost ready to call it quits right there.  I forgot to mention one thing… it was 95 degrees at 10 p.m., and that is no exaggeration.    Of course, the room was made for sardines and it was basically 3 beds tucked in by luggage.   Who builds these rooms? !

 

7/20:  Brad returned his motorcycle to the rental agency.  It’s called Happy Trails, and is run by a Jose, who also services bikes.  We scheduled our service with him.  Let me just say, that in addition to being a very nice guy, he is an excellent and very meticulous mechanic.  If you are ever in Madrid and need to rent or service a motorcycle, please look him up.   He has a shop in his basement and everything is organized perfectly.   We left our bikes with him and he gave us a ride back to the hotel.  We walked across the freeway to the mall to look for a new camera.  My new Canon had crapped out the day before.   I love the pictures it takes, but I am a little upset it broke after only a couple of months.   We ate lunch and shopped for a while, and then headed back to the room to get ready for dinner.  We made reservations at the Botin Restaurant, which is the oldest operating restaurant in the world, serving since 1725.  

We grabbed a cab to head downtown, which took about 25 minutes and involved going through a several mile long tunnel that goes under the city.  It was creepy and made me a little anxious.  We arrived at the restaurant, which is on the outside of an old town square surrounded by shops.  We were a little early so we walked around.  Despite the sun being down, it was brutally hot. It reminded me of Phoenix in the summer.  At 8 p.m., (and not a minute early….we tried 4 minutes early and were told to come back at 8), we were brought to our table which was in the basement…. A very tight fitting basement, full of tables and other people.   It was difficult for me to fit down the winding staircase to get there.  I think we all were a little unsettled at first.  Of course, everything seemed to get better with a little sangria.  The food was pretty good and we spent a few hours afterward exploring the square, until finally catching a cab home, which took a while because the cab driver got lost….and yes, he had a GPS.  Crazy place!!

7/21:   Brad snuck out the next morning to catch his plane.  Joe and I were picked up by Jose and taken to his shop, where we picked up our bikes.   We actually made it back to the hotel without too much issue.   We later met up with Jose and his business partner, Sebastian, at a café behind our hotel.  We let them order everything, which was a strange mix of bread, calamari , salad, bread, tuna fish, something that was like dirty rice made into little discs, and of course, French fries!  They were just leaving town for a 3 day ride, so we bid our farewells and went back to the hotel.  That day, I ended up buying a new camera and a GPS with all of Europe in it.   Joe’s is just not getting it, and my other GPS does not have detailed maps of European cities.  We spent the rest of the day, uploading pictures, and charging batteries, and blogging.    I’m ready to get out of the city.   Staying in these big cities makes me a bit homesick.  I think it is just because they are stressful and I have time to sit around and do nothing.   I much prefer being on the road making progress.

 

7/22:  We loaded up and I put on my new GPS, ready to get the show on the road.  So, I was leading and no more of Joe’s GPS.  Now, we were getting somewhere.  Unfortunately, I immediately led us in a circle around the hotel.  After that, I started getting the hang of it. 

We headed out in the heat of Madrid, and just as Jose had told us, the temperature dropped about 30 miles north as we ascended into the mountains.

The topography of Spain is interesting and definitely more open than France.  It has beaches, mountains, plains, and lots of agriculture.  There is a lot of fertilizing going on, which is gives much of the country a nice dung odor.  Driving in Spain is interesting because the speed limits change so often. It goes from 120 kph to 100 to 70 to 50 and then back to 110 for about 200 yards then back to 50, then to 30.  Jesus!

 

We started looking for a campground around 7:30 but were having no luck.  The GPS took us to a skate park into some little town..  So, we headed back onto the road.  The next little town had no hotels.  It was no big deal to me, but if Joe can’t find a place by 7 p.m., he starts to turn back into a pumpkin.  So, we stopped on the side of the road on the edge of town to assess our situation and see where we were headed.  Joe had a minor meltdown because of the late hour, but he was fine after a few minutes and we hopped on and headed out.  We entered the Pyrenees at dark and it started sprinkling.   We finally found a nice campground and rented a cabin.   I couldn’t help but tease Joe and told him we should probably push on to look for a better place.  Actually, he couldn’t understand me because I was laughing so hard. We rushed to get dinner before the 11 pm closing time and all they had was the sampler platter.   Steak, a fried egg, tunafish, calamari, salad, fried cheese, and (drum roll)…. You guessed it:  French fries.   I’ve had more French fries in Europe in a month than in the last decade of my life.  I’ve probably shortened my life by ten years.

I had the feeling that we were finally getting back on course and making progress.  It was fun hanging out with Brad, but I was ready to get the show on the road.

 

7/23  There was a terrible storm the night before.  Thank God we got a cabin.  We had a cafe’ solo and hit the road.  One of the good things about Spain is I’m able to communicate a little better than France.   I don’t know a lot of Spanish, but I can at least order food and get around.

We rode to through the Mountains and made it to the little country of Andorra around dusk.  I had never heard of it either, but it is a country of about 60,000 people nestled between mountains, between France and Spain.  As soon as we crossed the border, we saw big, elaborate banks and a lot of shopping.  My suspicion was that it is some kind of tax haven.  That was confirmed by our waiter, Marco, originally from Canada.  So, that settles it.   Basically, the whole valley is full of buildings, resorts, shops.  We saw all kinds of nice cars, Porsches, Ferraris, etc.   We found a campground on a hill, above a soccer field,  in the middle of town.    We set up camp and headed to the camp restaurant and had Sangria and a pretty good meal.  Of course,  both meals came with fries.  Marco, then brought us some kind of liquor made from herbs in the mountains in Andorra, and he had a few shots with us.  It kinda tasted like a mixture of tequila and bourbon.  Hey, this place isn’t so bad.

 

7/24  I got up pissy because I couldn’t sleep the night before.  Someone was having a rave in Andorra until after 4:30 a.m.   Of course, Joe didn’t hear anything and slept fine.  I think a fighter jet flew through his tent at one point and he slept through it.     It only took us about 30 minutes to make our way through Andorra.  The whole place is just a few cities in a valley.     We made our way back into France and the traffic picked up substantially.   Mountain passes with lots of traffic, including big trucks and cars pulling campers, is less than fun.   Slow and hot is what it was.   We finally made it to the freeway, which runs along the coast of France.  I suspected this was a bad idea, especially since we had been warned about going near any beaches, with it being holiday and all.    Sure enough, traffic was very heavy, and the wind was blowing wildly across the road.   There are giant wind socks along the freeway indicating the wind direction, and the road is lined with windmills.  So, I suspect wind is not a rare occurrence in this region.  So, the wind is whipping us all of the road and cars are zipping by us.   The one good thing is people in Europe are very good about getting into the right lane if they are going slow.   The bad thing is they don’t give you a whole lane for your motorcycle.  They just give you a couple and feet and pass right by you, half in your lane.  I could have kicked a few cars that passed me…. And giving the chance, I would have liked to kick a few #$@% too.   Then, just when I was getting used to the harrowing 75 mph, whipping wind experience, the toll booths arrive.  This created a parking lot.   It was 98 degrees to boot.   So, there we sat.   People were still so crazy they were trying to pass each other in the toll lines, while everyone is stopped.   I was starting to crack at this point.  We are in full motorcycle protective gear, sitting in the heat, dying…. Not to mention, the fan on my motorcycle has been on for a while and I’m concerned about it overheating.   We finally make it through the toll booth, but traffic is no better.  I told Joe that I’m getting the Hell off of the freeway and we exit.  By that time, it was 4:30 p.m. and Joe was getting antsy to find a place to stay. This is where we sometimes have our only real issue.  He is so anxious to get a place early, he will take any place.  And he can sleep through anything, and any condition, so it has no effect on him.   I don’t sleep all that well and can’t sleep with lots of noise or in a really hot, cramped, unairconditioned room.   So, I end up not getting much sleep night after night, and it makes me a little cranky.   You probably didn’t notice, but it does.   So, Joe heads for another ETAP (if you’ve been following, it’s a crappy, tiny motel).    We get there and I really want to move on, out of town (Montpillier), which is big and packed with holidayers.  But, Joe wants to stay….. so, he gets a room.   I head up to the 3rd floor and I am carrying everything trying to find Joe and the room.   The hall is also burning hot and I can’t find him.  Finally, he shows up and opens what turns out to be the second room he has gotten.  When I get in the room, it is literally 90 degrees inside.  I just stood in the middle of the room and stared into space for a minute.  I was literally about to freak out.  The A/C was on high, which meant I could barely feel the air coming out of it and it was definitely not cold.   I just told Joe I couldn’t stay there.  I couldn’t go another night without sleep.  Things were tense as I stood there in silence, contemplating, while Joe unpacked.   I took off and went to a restaurant to cool off, both literally and figuratively, had a beer and ate a burger; with you know what:   freaking French fries!!   The burger was terrible and I just sat there thinking:  “What have I gotten myself into?”  I cooled off and headed back to the room.  I told Joe that I was fine, because I could tell he was concerned.  I don’t blow my top to often but this was probably the closest Joe has seen.  Of course, Joe being the good guy he is, bought me another room at an adjoining hotel.  I told him that was crazy; I was just going to a local campground.   He insisted, so I went to the other hotel, which happened to literally be connected by a hall to the ETAP.  I get to the room and it is just as bad; and the AC doesn’t work.   I go back to the room and tell Joe thanks, but I’m out.  He went down to try to get a refund but they told him it had been too long.  So, now he comes back about to blow his top.  He said he just left because he was about to lose it.   I took the key and went down to the desk, and finally persuaded the clerk to refund Joe’s money.   I’m exhausted by now and just want a quiet place to set up my tent.  So, I take what I need and head to the campground, which is packed with people.  Wouldn’t you know it, they gave me a spot right by the playground, which was teaming with kids.  Let me just tell you, they don’t tire easily.   There was also one weird kid playing by himself in the bushes by my tent, pretending he was sword fighting.   Also, I forgot my sleeping pad at the hotel.  I just got in the tent.   Thankfully, the day was over.

On 7/15, Joe went to get his fork seal repaired…so Brad and I took off for sight seeing.  The goal was for all of us to meet up later in the day at a prearranged campground, in southern France, owned by a guy from Holland.  Brad and I rode some great curvy roads and took some pictures of castles and little villages.  We found the campsite, which happened to be on the edge of an ancient village, the dates of its inception escape me.   We couldn’t get in touch with Joe, because he only has a satellite phone.  He finally called and said he was at McDonalds, which has been our hub for communications and internet in France.  We all ended up walking up to the village, which was typical of France, in that it has an old cathedral in the middle and a courtyard in the center of town.  We ate and drank at a little bar in the town square owned and operated by sisters from the Netherlands.  The food was good and the atmosphere was incredible.  We walked around the village on the way home and found a couple of old stairwells, which we couldn’t resist but to explore.  We were like 12 year olds exploring.  It was pretty funny. 

We got up the next day and took off, spur of the minute, to try to catch a stage of the Tour de France.  We found out it was finishing in a town called Mende, which looked to be pretty close to us.  Turns out it was just over 100 miles.  We thought we would miss it but arrived just as people were gathering.  We stood on a hill, in a corner, about 2.5 km from the finish.  First, there was a parade by the sponsors of the race, where they threw candy or little souvenirs for their companies.  We stood there in the heat for about 2 hours.  Finally, we saw the helicopters arrive to film the finish and within seconds a lead group of maybe 8 riders whipped by, scampering of the hill by us.  Within 20-30 seconds, Peloton was breathing down their necks.  Of course, the whole thing only lasted a few seconds for us, but it was worth it to see it once.  It’s not really something I would do again.  I’d rather just watch it on TV.  That night we again stayed in the campground by the ancient village and ate dinner at the Pub.

On 7/17, we took off toward Spain, making our usual morning jaunt to McDonalds.  As we neared Spain, there were subtle changes in architecture and the people.  As we neared the border, we started climbing in the Pyrenees and it started to get foggy.  The villages were along a river and had very narrow streets.  The final stretch to Spain is a pretty steep climb that leads to a tunnel, running into Spain.  By the time, we reached the tunnel, we couldn’t see each other 20 feet apart because of the fog, and it was about 55 degrees.  The tunnel was probably about a mile long and descended the whole way.  About one third of the way, the fog disappeared and you could see the sun at the other end.  The temperature shot up about 20 degrees and we were in Spain.  So, we stopped, just as we had done on the other side to adjust our clothes… except in France, we put on more, and now we took off all that we had put on.   

We rode to a campground which was really nice, with a restaurant, store, pool, etc.  It was jam packed and we got a couple of camp spots.  The interesting thing is the tent spots were located in some kind of orchard, where the trees formed a large canopy and completely blocked out the sun.  It was pretty cool, except it was choked full of tents.  It’s really strange camping with a bunch of other people.   It was immediately apparent we were in Spain, because everyone was up partying until late.  At most camp grounds, things are silent by 10 pm.  Not in Spain.  The next morning was also different… in other places, people are up at the crack of dawn.  In Spain, I was waking people up.   I think Spain just might be my kind of place.

Things have been going pretty well since Brad got here, except we are probably scaring Joe.  Brad and I argue about everything and spend a great deal of time cussing at each other.  Poor Joe is probably ready to run away.  It is always difficult on a motorcycle trip with 3 people.  It works better with even numbers, so there is no odd man out.  It is working out well thought.  Brad and Joe get along well, and we’ve had a good time.  Joe and I have talked about it and we know we will have to start getting serious about making up time when Brad leaves. 

It’s funny how our trip keeps changing.   We made pretty extensive plans in the beginning, but it is all about adapting.  Things never seem to work out exactly as you planned and there is always something you need to do.  It is somewhat of a working vacation.  I guess that is what keeps it interesting.  The days are never the same, and usually don’t end up like you expected.  

Well, it all started at about 5 a.m.   Joe started yelling for me to put the rain fly on my tent.  I hadn’t the night before because it was beautiful outside.  We were camping at a little campground in Chateaudun, France.  No one spoke English, of course.  We found it late the night before.  Everyone was extremely nice, which has been my experience with France, surprisingly.  Everything I had heard was that the French are rude, but I must say, I have not had the experience at all.  In fact, quite the opposite.  Of course, I have not been to Paris; which may be where all the mean people live.  Anyway, I got back in my tent and waited for the rain to stop.  As I got out, I felt a pain in my lower back.  I hope it was just a muscle, but I immediately recognized the pain: a kidney stone.  I had one within a few days of my 21st birthday and it is not something you forget.   I hobbled over to the showers, because you need clean underwear if you are going to the hospital. It was all I could do to stand for a shower.    I then made it back to my tent and crawled inside.  By this time, Joe had come over to check on me and I guess I looked pretty bad, because he ran off, with French phrase book in hand, to get an ambulance.  Within about 10 minutes, I could hear that European siren.  The ambulance got there and no one spoke English.  I had Joe bring me a pebble so I could demonstrate a stone in my back.  I think they got it, but I was still worried about an erroneous amputation due to the language barrier.  It only took a few minutes to get to the hospital and then I was rolled into a hall where I sat for probably 30 minutes.  Eventually, a number of nurses rolled me into a room with a curtain.  There was an old man on the other side, and he and I alternated moaning.  There is a certain camaraderie in pain.   So, I spent the next 9 hours in the ER with little happening.  I had x-rays and an ultrasound but it was pretty slow and the hospital was pretty busy; and there was only one doctor.  I guess it was about 2 pm by the time pain stopped.  3 or 4 hours of pain with a little morphine helps the time fly by.    Joe stuck around and waited with me.  It was excruciating just sitting around with nothing going on except watching people being wheeled in and out.  For the last few hours, I was in the hall in a bed.  The nurses were very nice and not hard on the eyes.  My attempts at getting a sponge bath were met with failure.  Anyway, we got out at 9 pm, went back to the campground and packed up our tents, and stayed at a hotel called “Etap”, which is a chain of inexpensive hotels similar to a Microtel.  You check in by kiosk and it was a tiny room, with bunk beds and no a/c.

 We met up with Brad the next day in Angouleme, which is a really cool city in southern central France.  I don’t know the history, but it has a historic downtown on a hill with a giant cathedral.  Actually, that is the description of all French towns, I think.  They all have a giant cathedral and are all scenic.    We have seen countless Chateaus (castles) and every little town is picturesque.  It is maddening because you keep wanting to stop and take pictures, which means it takes all day to get anywhere.  Also, there are villages every few miles, so it is a little difficult to make good time unless you take the interstate, which are all toll roads, and fairly expensive.  We stayed at a hotel with a/c, but it was tiny and had one double bed and a pull out bed under the double.  When we pulled out the bed, there was barely enough room to walk to the bathroom; which is why I stubbed my toe on the edge of Brad’s bed.

Yesterday, we rode in mid Pyrenees, which had some awesome roads for motorcycles.  There are motorcycles everywhere, and they basically follow no rules.   In traffic, they just take off down the middle of the road and ride to the front.  The good thing is all the cars just move over to the right to let them by.  We got caught in traffic yesterday and tried it ourselves.  It is great, except our bikes are little wide with the boxes and I hit a few plastic cones.  They deserved it, though.

One thing about France:  things here are rarely open.  It seems they have a lot of holidays, and they are not open on the weekends, and only part of Monday.  At noon, everything shuts down for 2 hours, and I mean everything, and then they close at 4 pm.  There is nothing open at night except a few restaurants and bars, assuming there is no holiday.  Also, the gas stations close early, and for some reason, our credit cards don’t work at all the automatic pumps.  It is definitely a lot more relaxed here.  The only thing that is always open is McDonalds, which is a big deal.  There are signs on the outside of town letting you know where the McDonalds is and they are pretty fancy.  You can also order by kiosk there.   I had a Royale with Cheese.

Well, Because of the kidney stone debacle, we missed the running of the bulls; I guess it was the creeping of the stone for us.  We are within 50 miles of the next stage of the tour de france, and plan to see part of that tomorrow.   After that we are heading to Spain to drop off Brad at Madrid, get bikes serviced, and see a little Spain.

 

 

Europe here we are.  We flew into London on a 6.5 hour flight on 7/7.  We didn’t sleep much the night before and didn’t sleep much on the plane.  We arrive at 9 am, grabbed a quick bite in the airport and headed to cargo to get our bikes.  It was 73 pounds apiece and the bikes were released to us.  We rolled them to the edge of the parking lot and put them back together and loaded up.  Two  different pairs of cops came by to see what we were doing?  One said,”Well, you don’t see this scene very often.  Why don’t you just tell me what you are doing?”  I guess it looked like we were stealing a couple of bikes.  I pulled some papers out of my pocket to show one of the officers the address where we were headed and my knife flew out and landed right by the cop car.  He didn’t see it, so I ran over and stepped on it.  I’m not sure if carrying knives is “proper” in England.  So, we hopped on our bikes, not knowing where we were, nor where we were headed and took off. We stopped at a gas station and filled up, looked at a map, and drank big energy drinks.  There is no such thing as a couple page London map.  They are all books.  The roads look like spaghetti.  We managed to get on the M-25(loop) and head north just as rush hour started.   We stayed at my cousin’s flat, which I learned is what the English call a closet.  His place is pretty much downtown.  Let me just assure you that traffic doesn’t get lighter downtown.  So, there we are flying around town on 5 hours sleep in 3 days, hopped up on Monster energy drinks, driving on the left side of the road.  Also, there are no rules, apparently, for motorcycles.  They just drive where ever they want.  As we neared the flat, the roads got narrower and buses and trucks occasionally take up the whole road.  You just have to find a way around them.  I just kept telling myself,” drive on the left, drive on the left”.  It’s especially hairy headed around the roundabouts, to the left; and also making right turns.  We made it the flat and got parking tickets while unloading our bikes.  We then slept for about 17 hours.  The next two days we spent walking around, seeing the sights.  We walked to Buckingham Palace, Parliament, Big Ben, and the London Bridge.  IT was a whirlwind tour and we probably walked about 12 miles.  We are still a little sore.  I must say I was a little surprise by London.  I am not a big fan.  There are lots of fascinating sights and things to do, but it is huge and immensely crowded.  We have also had some problems understanding some of the Brits.  Joe asked a guy what we should see, and he spit out about 40 words, only about 5 of which we understand.  Actually, Joe only understood one, Oxford. I just tell them, "ello Govenor, pip pip Cheerio!"  they like that!  The people are not overly friendly, especially after our experience with the Canadians.  Maybe it’s just a typical big city, where people are busy and rushing around.  In any case, I’ve seen it and have no desire to go back.

 

Yesterday, we headed south and took a ferry from Dover to France.  A fog rolled in at the last minute and we couldn’t see anything in the English Channel.  Ferrying the bikes was pretty cool.  They have straps were you tie them to anchors on the floor.  We met a very nice German couple  who had been touring Scotland on their bikes and they invited us to visit them in Germany.  We also met some motorcyclists from Denmark and they invited us to come see them and their motorcycle club.  Sounds cool to me.   We were late getting to the bikes to load our stuff back on and everyone was starting their engines.  There are buses and tractor-trailers all ready to get off.  Fumes and racing engines everywhere.  I was scurrying around trying to get ready.  I had a camera around my neck, guitar half strapped to the bike, when the gates opened.  So, I had to push my bike off the center stand (no easy task when it is loaded down), but the stand kept sliding on the slick, painted concrete.  I had to rock it and push it so hard that by the time it came off, it was moving pretty quick.  I tripped on one of the floor anchors and the bike tilted away from me.  Well, needless to say, when one of these tall, loaded bikes starts leaning too far, especially away from you, there is only one result.  Yep, there it went.   I hung on as long as possible to blunt the fall, but it ended up laying down.   I think it was just tired from the ride.  Anyway, 3 or 4 people rushed up to help me right the beast.  Joe then almost dropped his in the same way.  It was fun, and I’m sure instilled confidence in the other riders.  These two guys are riding around the world??!!  They can’t even ride off the ferry!   All I can say is at least we weren’t riding a fairy.

 

So, we are now in France.  We headed down the coast and rode through the walls of a “castle”, or a city within walls at Boulogne (sp?).  Every thing was full so we headed down the beach where all the hotels were also full.  We ended up at a little campground behind someone’s house.  Think tents in a field behind a house.  They had showers the size of small closets and bathrooms.  Interesting thing about bathrooms is they are unisex are little rooms; the same size as the showers.  They only contain either a toilet or a sink.  The toilets have no seat or lid and there is no toilet paper.  So, as I brushing my teeth, these women are walking up with a wad of toilet paper in their hand.  I don’t know where they sat. 

 

So far in the little towns, no one speaks English.  I know zero French and Joe is worse than me.  It is funny listening to him try to speak.  I just watch.  We point a lot and people laugh at us and occasionally take pictures.  I’m all like, “so, what’s up French people and stuff?”Everyone has been exceptionally nice though.   Who would have thought that the French would be nicer to us than the English.

 

We are off to find castles and head to Spain to meet Brad, who flies in tomorrow.  We are actually in McDonalds right now using the internet.  We will hopefully have pictures soon.

 

Until then,

Au revoir

Jim

Well, North America is conquered.  We are off to Europe.  I’ve never been there, so I’m pretty excited.  I even smiled a little earlier today.  Since this is my final post for this continent, I thought it would be appropriate to reflect a little on a few things and to make some grand sweeping generalizations about the people I met and maybe even create some new stereotypes.  You’re welcome, world!

In some ways, the travel across the continent is poetic…. In that it starts extremely primitive in Alaska and gradually gets more cosmopolitan as you ride across.  The Yukon is primitive, British Columbia slightly less with more people, and as you ride east to Toronto, the cities seem to get bigger and more diverse.  Well, I don’t really know if that is poetic but it sounded good… especially after all the wine I have had in the Sky Lounge, where important people such as myself go to eat and drink before our flights.  Actually, my first time here, but I’m trying to present the proper image.  In fact, I just ignored the girl next to me as I am typing. 

Anyway, our last few days were spent in Toronto, which is a really big city and unlike any other part of Canada we have seen.   The city is very diverse in its population and it appears, from the parts we saw to have very large Indian, arab, and Asian populations.  It’s not an overly pretty city, but seems to have some very interesting sections.

As I look back over the last month of travel, I am struck by how much I enjoyed the Canadian people.   My one other trip here gave me the impression that Canadians are very nice, polite, and gracious.  This trip has only confirmed my first impression.  We have almost been like celebrities here.  People come up every time we stop to talk and take pictures with us.  Everyone is so interested in the adventure and we have already received numerous emails from people we have met.  Of course, this all suits Joe fine, since he could strike up a conversation with a deaf dog in a hail storm.  He has easily made friends with 50% of the country as we have crossed it.   In any case, I will always look back fondly at the time I spent in Canada and the many friends we made along the way.  Thanks, Canada. 

The first month has definitely been an adventure; some of the type we want and some we would have rather avoided.  The whole debacle with our lost passports and delayed visas would have been nice to avoid…. But that’s what you get with an adventure like this.  There is so much planning and so many pieces that have to come together to make it all work.  Part of the fun is taking what you get and making it work.

The KTM’s have performed well, but we have had a few minor mechanical issues.  We are pretty happy with them, but have been surprised by the expense of the maintenance.  Overall though, it’s the performance that matters and they perform well.

The highlights of North America:  I would have to say that traveling to the Arctic Circle and on the Alaska Hwy were pretty cool.  The Yukon and British Columbia were also impressive.  The scenery, the wilderness, and the wildlife were captivating.   The neverending sunlight in the Arctic Circle was mind blowing.  We actually put on sunscreen before going to bed a couple of nights when we were camping.

Funny moments:  I must say there were two that stuck in my mind.

The first was with naughty boy.  I already mentioned him in an earlier blog, but I thought I would rehash for some funny details.  At one campground, behind a bar, we met a guy, whose name was Alan, I think, and his mother.  Alan was probably in his fifties and his mother was about 80.  They were traveling in a big bus RV and had been everywhere.  Alan spent most of the night stoking the fire, which was near our tents.  He immediately told us how he had not showered in days, and it was fortunate his mother has lost her sense of smell years ago.  I wholeheartedly believed him regard to his lack of showering.   Mother finally appeared out of the RV with her dog, Naughty Boy, who was a much older version of Benji, wearing one of those lamp shades, and who appeared to be fairly blind.  Joe and I got in our respective tents pretty early and were trying to sleep.   Mother kept calling Naughty Boy literally about 100 times, interspersed with asking Alan to take her back to the camper, which he refused, because he wanted her to stay with him for a while.  It was somewhat Norman Bates-ish.    At one point, Naughty Boy had wondered over by my tent and was sniffing around.  I had seen him marking his territory earlier so I knew what was going to happen.  So, I’m in the tent whispering loudly, “Pssss….get outta here!  Shooo!”   So, he wanders over to Joe’s tent and starts sniffing.  Mother is full on calling him now.   “Naughty boy, come!  Come! Naughty boy!  Alan, where’s Naughty Boy?”   By now, I’m starting to choke on my own laughter, and Joe is trying to shoo naughty boy away from his tent.  I guess he heard Mother and took off running and ran directly into my tent.  Joe started cracking up by now and Naughty boy, who didn’t find any of it amusing, bounced off the tent and wandered back to Mother.  During all of the this, the drunks from the bar were out back rocking out to 80s music and throwing horseshoes.  This was quickly followed by fireworks.

 

The second moment came after I left my flip flops at a campsite.  For those of you who know me, this is no surprise, and for those of you who don’t…. I’m a little bit of a germ-o-phobe.   So, after losing the flip flops, I’m left with the difficulty of showering at the shower houses at the campgrounds with no footwear.   So, I used plastic bags; which is fine , but not overly easy to do.   At one particular shower, I got everything ready, which includes a tooney (a $2 coin….a looney is a $1 coin).  You have to put a coin in the shower and it magically turns on, and is actually a nice temperature.   Oh yeah… I also left my shampoo at the last campground….. So, I had gotten liquid handsoap from the sink and smeared it in my hair and on my chest (probably not a good idea until you are sure the water works).   I get undressed  with my plastic bags in place and my towel strategically placed on the shower rod.   As I step into the shower, careful to avoid any contact with the floor, except through my bags, I put a tooney in the coin slot.  This shower was quite small, and when the water turned on, it created a suction, sucking the shower curtain up against my butt…. Not a pleasant sensation anywhere, but certainly not in a public shower.  This sent me scrambling to peel it off of me, which is hard to do when you are standing on plastic bags.  As I tried to get away from the attacking curtain, I lost my balance and leaned up against one of the walls with my side.   The fear of the cold, germ-ridden wall made me step off of one of the bags and touch the floor with my foot.  By now, one of my bags had slid over the drain, causing several inches of water to start filling the shower.   I quickly tried to drag the bag off of the drain with my foot, without touching the floor, but was caught again by the attacking curtain, which stuck to my right side.   I grabbed for my towel to save myself and knocked it on the floor.  Thank God no one else was in the shower because it was probably an interesting listen outside of my shower stall.  Of course, I had no soap, so all I could do was rinse off and climb out of the shower onto the little wooden bench where my clothes were sitting.  I then had to try to get my clothes, socks and shoes on without touching the floor.  It was all a truly tramatic event.  Needless to say, I have since purchases another pair of flip flops.

So, all is well that ends well.  We are moving on from Canada to London. 

 Canada is a lot of fun, A?  You should get oot here some time. Right on?  You need to see what all the fuss is aboot !   lol  I love their accents.  We are now practicing our English accents.  We know they love it when we imitate them.   “pip pip Cheerio.  I’m doing bloody well.  How about some fish and chips?”  lol

Well, it’s off to catch a flight.  I will add some pictures soon.  

Jim 

“To each on his journey, whether it be large or small.  It’s not the scale that matters…it’s that you dare to journey at all.”

            

2 days ago, we left our campground after a night of rainy camping, once again.  It took us a while to get our stuff packed up because it started raining about 7 am.  Once we got rolling, we could see big storms in the distance.  We were able to skirt several of them, but finally were caught by a big one.  The rain was in sheets with gusting winds that were at least 40 mph.  We had our rain gear on but at some point, everything was drenched.  We stopped and dried off and another storm was coming our way.  So, after 250 miles of mostly misery, we stopped at this little village, Kenaston.  There was one “hotel”, which was $40.  The first room they put us in had a large trash can to catch all of the water from the gaping hole in the ceiling.  We switched rooms to a nice two bedroom that only had a sink… the bathroom was down the hall. 

The next morning I called the postal service to see why our passports had not been delivered to Seattle, where Red Star Travel, our Russian Visa advisors are located.  We shipped the passports to them so they could get our Visas.  Well, I have been nervous all along about mailing my passport and sure enough, my worries proved well founded.  Long story short:  the Canadian post office lost our passports.  They think they will show up at some point but no one knows when or where.   So, now we have to rush to Minneapolis to try to get an emergency passport.  Otherwise, we will not be able to catch our flight to Europe on July 6.  If our original passports don’t show up on Monday or Tuesday, then the Russia portion of our trip will likely be cancelled.  We just don’t have time to start the process over.  Oh well, we will see.  I can’t worry about it anymore.  It is out of my hands.  This is one of those times when you plan as well as you can, and things go wrong that are out of your control. 

I spent several hours, yesterday, on the phone with Canadian postal officials and no results.  I will say that Canadians are extremely nice and have been overly apologetic about their mistake.  They are refunding our postage.

After a morning of fun government red tape, we had a good sunny day, yesterday, and stayed in Estevan, Canada.   Joe decided to stay up late and didn’t go to bed until 8 p.m.  The partying never ends on the “No Looking Back” World Tour.  

This morning, we took off pretty early and spent the whole day running from a big storm.  Apparently, there have been some tornado watches.  We were able to stay out in front of it most of the day.   We are at a hotel tonight in Jamestown, ND , and will ride into Minneapolis tomorrow, which is about 300 miles on the interstate.  The big goal now is to get replacement passports so we can at least go to Europe even if Russia is a no go. 

The last week has been pretty tiring.  Trying to cover 300 miles per day and deal with logistics and the weather is wearing us out.   Fortunately, we will have a few days off in Minneapolis, while our bikes are getting tires.  Also, we are going to cruise the Mall of America. 

Most of the Canada portion of our trip is over.   I will miss the people there.  The one great asset of Canada is its people.  I did not run into a single rude or annoying person.  Everyone was extremely nice and overly interested in our trip.  It seems the citizens of Canada are a very adventurous people.  I think Joe talked to half of the country.  It is however very expensive.  We are glad to get back to reasonable prices, especially for gas. 

We have now been gone three weeks, and it seems longer.  The days have been running together lately.   I knew this portion of the trip would be difficult, because we have a lot of distance to cover in a relatively short amount of time.  What I didn’t realize was that Alberta and Saskatchewan were like Nebraska and Kansas.  Relatively flat with lots of farms and straight roads.  Snoozeville.

Once  we get to Minneapolis, we will update everything and have all of the pictures posted.  Until then, wish us luck .

 

Jim