In the first post in this series, I talked about how my comfortable life was turned upside down by the adventure bug, but I hadn’t actually started talking about motorcycles or going touring on them.
Well, one final thing before we get to the touring bit, I want to say a bit more about foolishness and humility.
First of all, the foolishness…
Riding is a sociable and rewarding hobby, that’s for sure, but if anyone tries to persuade you that it doesn’t have to cost a lot… Be sceptical. Yes, you can do it on a budget, but motorcycles make it very easy to spend more money than you intended.
Not that the riding itself is expensive, but getting your license, buying your bike, your riding gear, and all the other things that go hand in hand with riding…. Yeah that can add up pretty quickly.
Two years and one pandemic after passing my test…
I haven’t gone completely crazy with the cash I saved during the pandemic. But I have sold my 125, bought a ten year old BMW Roadster, and booked onto a guided tour to Luxembourg with MCI Tours with a couple of friends, Claire and Adrian, the people that persuaded me to do my CBT, and the same folks I’ll be going to Spain with later the same year.
I’m still a little nervous about the prospect of riding for several days running, but I’ve done some advanced machine handling courses with the i2i Motorcycle Academy, and practiced a lot, so I feel comfortable riding even quite technically challenging roads.
I’ve also invested in a good workshop manual and tools, and worked my way through all the recommended servicing, engine oil and filter changes, drive chain lubrication, brake pad replacement, tyre pressures etc.
I’ve also re-waxed my main canvass riding jacket, polished my leather boots, and bought some cheap rain-proof over-trousers, to go over my usual riding jeans if it rains. But this is the same gear I’ve been riding in from the start, and while I’ve been caught in the odd shower, I’m mostly a fair weather rider.
As a group, we also invested in comms, so that we can chat as we ride, and I’ve splurged on a new satnav, which I’ve loaded up with all the pre-planned routes provided by MCI.
Finally, June rolls around, and on a cloudy Thursday morning we’re almost ready to set off.
It may sound like a lot of pfaff and expense leading up to what is supposed to be a holiday, but, when riding with friends you become dependent on one another, a problem for one is a problem for all, and fixing that problem is likewise a victory for all, so the prep is important.
Day 1
This involves riding from Leeds to Dover, where we’ll stay overnight and then catch the 7.50am ferry to Calais in the morning.
There’s a bit of last minute pfaffing to get all the luggage securely loaded and strapped to the bikes, and then we’re off.
The weather remains undecided for the first hour before warming and brightening to give us a full day of easy riding.
Starting early, gives us bags of time, so we don’t need to rush, and we can stop a couple of times along the way for breaks, fuel and lunch.
We opt for the A1 rather than the M1, and barring a rather longish traffic jam just north of Lincoln, which we manage to filter our way through, the day goes without a hitch, and by 6pm we’re checked into our hotel just outside Dover. Freshened up, changed and headed to the pub next door for a beer, some food and chat about how the day has gone, and what we expect form tomorrow.
There’s an older couple on a big Triumph with lots of luggage, who look like they’re off on a tour as well, but we don’t quite get the chance to say hello and find out where they’re headed.
It’s been a long day of riding, and its an early start, so we turn in at a reasonable time.
Day 2
I’m awake a bit earlier than I’d like, due to the excitement.
I start pottering around, grab a shower and start re-packing my bags. The weather forecast is not so good today, but if we can get ahead of the weather front that’s coming in, the rain might not catch up to us until we reach our hotel.
But we’re off to a bit of a rocky start, and its my fault...
While packing I realise the pack of papers with my vehicle registration, insurance and travel documents is missing, which I took to the pub last night so we could go over the details for today.
A quick chat with hotel folks reveals the pub doesn’t open for breakfast until 7am, twenty minutes before the check in closes for our ferry.
It’s a silly mistake, and I can’t help but feel I’ve let my friends down. But Adrian and Claire do their best to keep the mood upbeat.
We can get the next ferry if we miss the 7.50am departure, but that means we wouldn’t be travelling with the rest of the group, and the weather front will be that much closer.
Fortunately, the pub manager turns up early, my documents have been found and put in a safe place rather than thrown out with the rubbish, so I get everything back in time to get to the ferry terminal as planned
Unfortunately, the ferry company, P&O, have cancelled the 7.50 crossing at the last minute, so we meet up with the rest of the group, and have plenty of time to get to know them over a coffee and bacon sandwiches in the terminal, while we all wait for the 9.20 crossing.
There are sixteen of us in total crossing to Calais, plus another five travelling via Hull or Harwich instead, who we were supposed to rendezvous with on route, but who will now probably reach Vianden ahead of us.
They’re a mostly older group, all looking like seasoned travellers to my untrained eye, many in expensive looking touring gear, others in leathers, jeans and regular day riding stuff, but everyone is friendly, and eager to get going.
Colin and June are our tour leaders, and come over straight away to say hello and commiserate about the later departure.
As this is my first time riding in Europe, Colin offers to keep and eye on me and provide a few pointers on my riding, which I appreciate and gratefully accept.
We also get to meet David and Alison, the folks that stayed in the same hotel as us the previous night, along with a handful of the other participants, whose names I slowly get to know over the next few days.
Today, Colin informs us all, it will be a longish ride, on mostly quicker roads, with a few detours to add interes, and to allow the back-markers to catch up.
Then before we know it, we’re riding off the ferry and making out way east through France and Belgium.
We quickly fall into a routine, with me, Claire and Adrian, chatting over our comms as we go, and like the previous day, the weather seems to brighten as we travel, giving me hope that we may have lucked out once again.
A couple of the more experienced riders have clearly been paying close attention to the weather forecast as we travel, and after our second service station stop, I notice, as we set off, that they’ve donned their weather proof outer-layers.
Adrian and Claire have noticed this as well, and we all agree to do the same when we stop next, just as a precaution.
And then the rain starts, quickly turning into a heavy but brief downpour. My canvass jacket seems to have forgotten its recent re-waxing, and it isn’t long before I feel the wet creeping through to my skin.
Thankfully, the rain showers are brief, and the weather warm, so we dry out a little as we head over the border to Belgium and our late lunch-time stop in the scenic town of Dinant.
Despite the repeating wetting, we’re all still in good spirits, but, on the approach to Dinant, Claire notices a noise from her Yamaha. The chain seems to be catching on something.
Everything seems normal to me and Adrian, who ride alongside to take a look, its not constant though, so we agree to press on and take a closer look when we stop for lunch.
Half an hour later and we’re parking up in lovely riverside town, full of attractive buildings, including a huge high gothic church, all flanked by impossibly picturesque cliffs on either side of the river valley.
This is Dinant, somewhere I’d have happily spent a day or two exploring in its own right, but after a quick bite to eat in a local patisserie café, we go back to the bikes to make a closer examination of Claire’s chain issue.
It doesn’t take long to figure out that somehow, the chain on both Claire’s bike and Adrian’s are far too loose. Both bikes were fine on the ride down to Dover, and both have been recently serviced. But now we need to do something or both bikes could be dangerous to ride, and we’ve still got at least four hours of riding left to reach our hotel in Vianden.
Now its a widely held view that encountering and dealing with problems like this is all just part of the adventure, and now, with the benefit of hindsight I’d agree. But in the moment, beside that river, with two motorbikes that could be dangerous to ride, and no easy way to fix them… that wasn’t how we were thinking about it.
How we dealt with this particular challenge, and the others that faced us on the second day of our trip? That I’ll have to explain in the Part 3:
Part 3 - Through wild woods and fading light!