Great read! Good on you for starting off regardless of the Covid threat. Over here in N.A. pretty much everything was closed off, but slowly reopening. I sadly had to put off my Americas trip till next year.

That's a shame, it seems a lot of people have been forced to postpone. Europe's a little easier luckily, plus I'm too stubborn!

Are you still out there?
No updates on blog for a few weeks.

Nor on his website, I was wondering the same thing.

__________________
You will have to do without pocket handkerchiefs, and a great many other things, before we reach our journey's end, Bilbo Baggins. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you. The world is ahead.

Sorry, been a little distracted in Spain!

Here's the latest! (if you would like links to work, you'll need to go to my blog)

SPAIN, JUST SPAIN!…. AND PORTUGAL

Rather than break this bit up into days, I’m going to split it into chunks. As you’ll know from ‘Travel during Covid-19‘, it was always my plan to start my trip in Spain.

This was in part to visit one of my mates who lives on the south coast for a couple of weeks, almost like a little holiday really. You know, before you spend a long time on holiday, you need a little holiday, right?

Anyway, I didn’t start in Spain so I’ll get back to the point.

Soooo, I’m in France, its day 33, I’ve skipped a couple of days as they just involved hanging around in France waiting for border to Spain to open.

Below is right next to the camp site I was at in France. As you can see it wasn’t really a hardship hanging round for a while, it was just an annoyance because I HAD to wait.



Med coast 100m from my camp site in France

Leaving France


Anyway, heading into Spain takes about 15 mins. Its pretty good to be moving again. I’ve had a little look at google maps and there’s a little lake amongst some hills (Terrain setting is great!) an hour or so over the border. It seems as good a place as any to start so that’s where I head.

As I start to get into the mountains, the roads go from good to great. After a little while the lake appears, its stunning…




If you want to look it up, have a look ‘here‘.

It was that good I’m going to head back through on the way out of Spain, I’ll try to take a video as there are a load of sports that would be good to show but aren’t really feasible to pull over and take a pic… There’s a higher chance that I’ll forget and just ride through it with my mouth open again, so don’t hold your breath!

After a wee lake visit its time to start heading down to Paul’s place. He lives in a place called La Alcaidesa, just along from the rock of Gibraltar. It’s a hell of a long way so the plan is to split it into two days riding. As the centre of Spain, during the summer, is slightly hotter than the surface of the Sun, I decide to stick to the Coast road.

Bad for hotels, good for me!

While heading to the coast I pull over to have a look for a camp spot for the night. It then dawns on me that although the borders are now open I cant imagine there’s an influx of tourists just yet… maybe I can get a dirt cheap hotel?! On to booking.com I go, other generic booking websites are available.

I find this hotel for £15, no, thats not a typo…



Obviously it was neater than that before I turned up!

It’s in Alicante, and can be found ‘here‘ (AirBnB link although I booked through Booking .com). They definitely could charge way more. I’ve stayed in a lot of places and this is the best bang for buck I’ve stayed in anywhere! It does have a shared bathroom but it was really nice and for £15 I’m just glad it had one at all!

Leaky bastard of a fork!

After a good nights sleep I get back to the bike and notice fork oil leaking down from the left fork leg…balls.

This gets fixed by the following process…

1. Buy a little bottle of water, bottle must not be corrugated
2. Cut out a little seal mate type bit of plastic
3. Pull down dust seal
4. Push new little tool up past the oil seal, move it round the stanchion and remove
5. Get and eat and ice cream



Problem solved I carry on to Pauls.

Mini holiday No. 1

I wont go into any detail here, visiting a mate doesn’t make for a good round the world trip blog. Basically we had a few s, ate some food and went to the beach… on repeat.



Above is where he lives, not to shabby at all!

Anyone that can spot us in the picture wins a crisp high five…

One thing I did get done while at Paul’s was drop my bike at a Honda dealers in Marbella. The bike has an extended unlimited mileage warranty so unfortunately this means services at the recommended mileage at an approved service centre.

Portugal.

After a week at Pauls, I head of for a short break in Portugal. Myself and Paul have planned to head to Tarifa the following weekend for a windsurf lesson, so I really only have 3 days. I’m OK with this.

The first day is mostly riding from Spain to Portugal, on arrival it seems the Portuguese REALLY like graffiting stuff!



As its a late arrival in Portugal, I find somewhere to sleep for the night. It turns out that the large coast car park I’ve picked is some sort of dogging hot spot. There’s cars coming at all hours of the evening until about 2am. They seemed to stay on the opposite side of the car park to the campers so they were no bother to me, I’m sure they were having fun!

In the morning I pop to the beach for a wash, there’s nothing better than a wild bath to wake you up!



I bet your bathroom doesn’t look that good!

After a wash it’s time to head inland and find some trails to ride. There are a fair few fun dirt tracks to explore in Portugal so I end up spending most of the day just sort of wandering the back roads.



As I’m restricted for time (restricted by myself but still), I start to make my way back to Spain. On Google maps I find a nature park on the Spanish coast and decide to head to one of the car parks along its coastal edge.

Back to Spain.


On arrival the only thing that can detract from the beauty of the area is the huge amount of rubbish left by other campers. It’s almost like they can’t figure out that people will be banned from camping if it carries on. Luckily, being on a bike I find a spot that hasn’t been too trashed.



As the sun was setting I decide to head out onto the cliffs by my camp spot and take some pictures. I do the same in the morning, I’ll put some of my favourites of these below.





Following the above photos, I start to make my way back across the south coast of Spain again. Staying off the highway and in the national parks means riding through pine forests. Annoyingly Spain even do Pine forests better than we do!



Tarifa.

So myself and Paul arrive in Tarifa. From the first time we walk through the little gateway from the new town to the old we’re sold. Its awesome! The place is full of little bars, cafes and restaurants. It also lacks the usual pretentious feel of most action sports destinations (kite surfing and windsurfing Mecca).

While in Tarifa we decide to sample the local sports. We book on for a windsurf lesson. Turns out its a lot of fun, obviously I didn’t take my camera into the water so here’s a picture from lunch after!



The next day we head out to see what the mountain biking is like in the area. I shipped my bike to Paul before setting off so he brought it with him in his van.

We completely balls up the climb up and end up doing a 2 hour hike with the bikes to get to the top.



This should give you an idea of the terrain we were dealing with.



Always satisfying getting to the top of a big hill!
Once at the top we descend the Buddha trail, its as savage as the climb up but makes the climb worth while.

Seville

After Tarifa we decide to head to Seville for a visit. Its supposed to be a beautiful city. The first thing you notice though isn’t the beauty, its that its bastard hot!

When we get there and start exploring, we wonder why the city is so deserted. Shortly after we realise that it’s because nobody else is stupid enough to be walking around a city for hours in over 40 degrees.

Still, it allowed for some awesome pictures!









I guess Covid-19 might have also played a big part in us pretty much having a city to ourselves!

Back to Pauls

After all this, we head back to Pauls.

Once back i take advantage of the track pump he has and fit a new tyre to the bike. I’ve heard good things about the Mitas e-07, apparently they last an age…we shall see!



Unfortunately the front I’ve ordered doesn’t turn up, this means I have to sort one on route. The one I find is in place called Jean so that is now the first stop once leaving Pauls.

I have planned to meet my Girlfriend in Barcelona in a few days time. Its her Birthday so were having a long weekend somewhere neither of us have been before.

I set off from Paul’s to the Tyre shop in Jean, I plan to spend a couple of days after the fitting on the Trans Euro Trail getting to Barcelona.

I’m an idiot!

I arrive at the tyre shop, I go to find my wallet…it’s not there. At the last petrol station I have filled up, put my wallet on my pannier while having a drink and then forgotten about it and ridden off. What a tool!

I spend an hour or so using Google translate and getting my mate Paul to speak Spanish to the shop owners to explain the situation. They agree to get on with the tyre fitting while I figure out how to pay.

While I’m waiting, in 43 degree heat for the tyre shop to re-open. They close at 14:00 and don’t open again until 17:00…gotta love Spain! I get an email through my website…you know, this one you’re reading. Its from a Police Officer named Guille Pedre, he’s had my wallet handed into him and its ready to be collected. He’s sent a picture, its even got the money in it! What a legend!

This means a 2 hour ride in the opposite direction, a small price to pay!

Once the tyre is fitted a mate suggests I pay in installments using Google pay on my phone. It works!

Outside the tyre place i get chatting to a chap called Jose, he’s bike mad and telling me that he has to get up and be riding by 06:00 otherwise the heat is too much! Lovely guy but what a lunatic! I can see why though, the heat during the day is unreal!

I’m still an idiot!

So, I read the address for the police station and pop it in the SatNav. When I arrive it looks nothing like the street on google maps. It turns out that if you make a slight typo in the town name it takes you to exactly the same street name in a town about 50km north… I know what you’re thinking, surely you could tell you’re heading in the wrong direction, Mike?! Clearly I couldn’t, not a bloody clue!

Soooo, I’ve missed the opening hours for the Police station, time to camp for the night. I find little spot of grass and set the tent up. It doesn’t get below 30 degrees all night so its not the best nights sleep.

The next morning i wake up early and get to the police station as it opens to get my wallet. Its all there, I’m back on track!

Well, not quite, I now have 630km to travel and Char arrives tomorrow. There is not a cat in hell’s chance I’m getting 630km of an off road trail done in a day and a half so its a motorway slog for me. This is punishment for being a double idiot!

Barcelona

I wont tell you about the trip to Barcelona, it was long and not at all fun, lets leave it there!

I get to Barcelona and check into the Hotel, as its Chars birthday treat we are staying somewhere nice. We have booked into the Novotel in the city. It ticks all the boxes for us.

Once checked in, the kit is abandoned in the room and my bike dropped of in the underground parking I head off to the airport to meet Char.

We have a hire car for the 4 days as it makes life a little easier than traveling around on the bike.

For the 4 days we wander around Barcelona. We head out to the hills for views over the city, walk around La Sagrada Familia and the Gothic Quarter and drive to beaches both north and south. I’ll add some pictures of our travels below:











Our 4 days draw to a close all too quickly and before we know it Char is back on a plane.

Time to leave Spain

Its a shame to be leaving Spain. It is now by far my favourite country, it’s got everything!

As I leave Barcelona the heavens open, its a new type of rain, its rain but without the spaces between the drops!



It definitely warrants pulling over and putting my rain hood on! Rain hood on I carry on, amazingly everything except my gloves holds the water out!

I decide to head out the same way I came in, past the reservoir pictured in the last blog post, which can be found ‘here‘. This time I camp on the banks.



And hide as the thunder storm returns!



If you want to know how bad the storm got, you’ll need to head to my Instagram ‘here‘ and view my story highlights of Spain with the sound on!

The next morning I take a bath in the reservoir, pack up and leave Spain through Andorra.

If you’ve enjoyed this, please put an email address in the subscribe box either to the right or below depending on if you’re viewing through a mobile or a computer. Also, follow on Instagram for more regular updates.

Please follow Instagram for more regular updates here

And also subscribe to the blog to be alerted when there is a new blog post here

FRANCE AND ITALY


Its been a busy couple of weeks, so make yourself comfy, you’re in for a long read!

If you’ve missed any previous posts, you can catch up here: (if you want to, it’s not mandatory!)

Chapter 1: Wild camping (and week 1)

Chapter 2: Traveling through Sweden, Denmark and the Netherlands (week 2)

Chapter 3: Amsterdam, Luxembourg and sneaking into France

Chapter 4: Motorcycle touring in France (+ Andorra)

Chapter 5: Spain, just Spain!…And Portugal

So we pick up our story on Day 56…

Day 56

As you’ll know from your background reading of chapter 5 above, day 56 starts in Spain. From here I’m heading into Andorra. I know the title of this sections is France and Italy…bear with, I’m getting there!

Time to head to Andorra la Vella with the aim of taking the same road as last time. I covered this in a previous blog post so we shall fast forward to El Pas de la Casa. El Pas de la Casa is the closest town to France just in side the Andorran border. It’s Bastille day. This means that half the population of South West France have headed to Andorra to stock up on cut price cigarettes and Alcohol. Its rammed!

Best to move on quickly and leave them to them to it.

Leaving through the Pyrenees never fails to deliver some awesome views!



My plan, or as close to a plan as I’ve concocted is to head along the south coast to Monaco. Because i want to make some progress down the coast I leave it late to find a place to sleep for the night. In the end I stay in probably the least picturesque place I’ve stayed to date.

I didn’t take a picture, I’m pretty sure i cant paint an ample picture without though. Imagine a carpark just off a motorway slip road (a good start ey!). Then, if you will, add in 25 camper vans spread out around said car park. Imagine a surrounding of dry scrub land. In the corner of this little oasis is a little bit of dead grass. In the dusk I pitch my tent on this little stink pad. I get in and go straight to sleep, pointless spending time soaking in my surroundings.

Day 57

When I wake up to pack my tent, I spot some little treats around. About 3 feet from where my tent as pitched was several piles of used toilet paper. I imagine they were accompanied with little piles of poo underneath, I just didn’t investigate to confirm my suspicions. Still, at least I hadn’t slept on the potential poo, that would have been shit…

So I’m now packed up and leaving this splendid spot, on the way out I dispose of what rubbish I’ve accumulated in the bins. Ah yes, I forgot to mention the local bins that are also in the car park.

The aim of today is to get to Lac de Sainte-Croix. Its a good stop off on the way to Monaco.

I’ve set the sat nav to adventurous routing and allowed it to navigate un-paved roads, which is exactly what it does! At one point I’m pointing down very steep hill made entirely of pool ball sized rocks. I have zero grip and ABS seems to not want my wheels to lock, so down the hill I go and come to a stop lying on my side. No harm done, pick the bike up and crack on.

I’ve set myself a little rule while riding solo, if the bike feels like its going down, I get clear and let it happen. I can replace the bike or parts, a broken leg would be immeasurably more shit.

I need to remember to stop and take pictures with a dropped bike, always good for a laugh!

Anyhow, I didn’t, so here’s one of it upright when the road became a normal farm track again.



From this point I can see the lake, Its not long until the views improve!



From here I found a car park for a lake beach that the police didn’t seem to mind you camping in, so that’s what I did.

Day 58

Time to head to Monaco.

As I’m leaving the lake, its very apparent I’m in the foothills of the French Alps, the first 20 miles takes me about an hour as I keep stopping to look at the view or take a picture.



Not a bad view at all!

The rest of the ride there is fairly uneventful with the exception of the manic traffic the closer to Monaco I get.

When you get into Monaco, the massive excess is hard to avoid. Any car with a Monaco plate is worth more than my old house and don’t get me started on the boats!



Big floating piles of money, surely they wouldn’t miss one of the little ones?

There are a lot of people with a lot of money! Fair play! As I am not one of them, after a couple of hours of wandering round I head back to the bike and head out.

As I’m on the way out of Monte Carlo a BMW GS 1200 rolls along side at a traffic light, a German accent starts speaking to me asking me where I’m going.

This conversation lasts for about the next 4 or 5 traffic lights. Time to meet:

Harry & Jens



This picture was taken at the end of the tour but if I hadn’t have said, who’d have known!

So eventually the explain they are heading on a route they have been told about which takes in 21 mountain summits in the Alps and would I like to join. 21 Alpine summits, Italy can wait!

All I have to do now is keep up with two bikes with a minimum of 5 times the power for 700km, easy! In fact, in the case of the KTM 1290 Adventure R, 8 times the power!

The rest of Day 58, 59 and 60

Off we go…

The next 3 days are a fairly fast paced Alpine exploration. Much to the surprise of the guys I’m able to keep up. I only keep that pace for the first two days, day three I back off, the bike has to last a long time and I have to use every one of my 24bhp all the time to keep pace (Harry definitely could have gone faster!). It was well worth delaying Italy, the roads are fantastic and I wouldn’t have thought to do this particular route if I hadn’t met Harry and Jens.



Carrying a load of extra fuel as they’d heard there was a lack of fuel stations….there wasn’t but better safe than sorry!



Harry on the left, Jens on the right…and my bike

On the second day of the mini tour, we get to the bottom of the highest pass on the route. At the bottom of the hill we find Harry talking to a group of supermoto riders (he talks to everyone!). They turn out to be an awesome group of lads who seem to only ever use one wheel at a time. Made me really want a supermoto!



Super friendly bunch with some amazing bikes.



The obligatory sticker exchange…

When the guys left to head up the way we came, Harry couldn’t resist chasing them up the hill so myself and Jens waited at the bottom while he went to play!

If either Harry of Jens read this, I’d like to thank them for their generosity, for the entire time (3 nights!) they refused to let me pay for accommodation. If I protested too much they’d revert to speaking German until accommodation as booked and then tell me in English that it was sorted and we should just get going! They even paid for food for the entire time, except the last night where i managed to persuade them to let me pay. What a pair of legends!

Day 61

I part company with Harry and Jens and decide to head to a lake close to the Italian border. I want to have a crack at a bit of astro-photography and this looks like a good spot which should have limited light pollution.

I have a quick chat on Instagram with a mate (Sam) who gives me a few tips on the subject. Here are the results:



Lac Mont-Cenis

Day 62

I chalk it up as a success head on into the Alps a little further. To find a camp spot I just head into the mountains on dirt tracks and camp where the road runs out. It tuns out I only have videos of this so lets pretend it didn’t happen and move on!

Day 63

Day 63 is making up for time spent riding round the Alps for 3 days, I make a b-line for Pisa. No other reason than I’ve heard about it. It seems they have a wonky tower that I should go Look at.

When I arrive I head into town to have a look around. Now, I will try and describe Pisa in my usual eloquent, articulate style so as to not offend anyone that may read this who calls Pisa home…

Pisa, is a dirty shit-pit of a town that wouldn’t be on anyone’s travel list if it wasn’t for a dodgy bit of engineering some years ago. I think I nailed that.

As I’m in a city I have booked a hostel for the night. I head back with the aim of getting up early to take a few pics.

Day 64



Wonky tower



wonky tower with the sun



Pisa river

As a side note, if you want to get a picture of the wonky old tower without 500 people taking pictures pretending to hold it up, id recommend getting there at dawn!

I did ask the guards at the tower of Pisa if I could send my drone up. They seemed very unimpressed that I’d asked and their machine guns were telling me it was time to go!

Breakfast at the hostel is consumed and its back on the road, this time to Rome!

I have booked two nights in Rome in a hostel again, I’m not sure they’d be a fan of me pitching my tent and having a wash in the Trevi fountain.

To break with tradition of constant dawn photo shoots I head out at about 22:30. I figure that Rome will look good lit up at night. Make your own mind up:



Castel Sant’Angelo



The Colosseum…obviously



Trevi fountain

So far I’m a big fan of Rome, its quite the City.

Day 65

decide that I’m going to look at the Vatican City today. When in Rome and all that…

Its about 11km round trip and its 40 degrees…I clearly haven’t learnt from Seville! Walking is my chosen form of transport. If only I had a motorbike to use!

I had a quick look about, saw where his popeyness addresses the masses and made my way back. I didn’t get any pictures that do it justice but I’m sure you know what it looks like anyway!

Day 66

Time to head back north, I like the idea of heading to Sicily but I don’t think time allows without there being a lot of very big road days over the next week.

San Marino is the destination. When I get there, it’s just a town on a hill…maybe I’m missing something.

Either way the heavens open when I arrive, biblical style. My waterproofs do not hold, I reach ‘**** it’ and I book the closest hostel. Down to Rimini I go.

It turns out that Rimini is a town famous for 18 year old’s going to party. It was nice that the hostel had a bar that was at least open with a bit of music on. Not a bad place to spend an evening while my kit dried in the room.

Day 67

While packing up I meet a German chap called Bart. It seems a lot of Germans love a bit of motorcycle touring! Here he is, go check out his story here.



Bart!

Soooo, the plan is, head north, spend a couple of days in Venice, do the tourist thing…etc. etc.

About 20 miles from Venice I decide that I’m sick of cities and hostels, my boat is well and truly about to sink and these places are not offering any buoyancy.

Out comes google maps, there has to be somewhere to wild camp. I find a river north of Venice which looks good.

When I get there I’m able to park right on the bank. Access the river for washing and drinking water. Boat is afloat again!



What a place!



Camp is set and I’m a happy camper again

Day 68

I’m being a little more brief now as I’m aware this is a big post and I’m sure half of you will be asleep by now!

In the morning I head to Lake Como on a mates recommendation.

When I arrive I can see why its been recommended. The place is beautiful. The only problem is that since I’ve been traveling I don’t really check the calendar. Most of the time I don’t know or even care what day it is. Today is Sunday. It’s amazing weather and I think every Italian is at Lake Como. Its manic!

After slowly riding round the majority of the lake in near stationary traffic I look for a spot to stop. There’s a little river/canal that looks promising.



Camping spot near lake Como
Turned out nice again!

Day 69

I decide that my little trip into Italy will come to an end and head back to the French side of the mountains. I have got a bit of a taste for night photography so I’m going to scratch that itch again.

I find a little reservoir on the map and plot a course.

The route takes me back past Lac Mont-Cenis where I took the night shots above. When I get there I remember looking at a map last time i was there and seeing a little track that went up into the mountains. I’m not in a rush so I go check it out.

Its quite a long track, but when at the end I’m at 2,300 meters and the views are pretty impressive.



Apologies for being in the way!

I decide this is going to be my spot for the night!

While setting up camp, I start talking to a French chap called Emmanuel, he invites me for a with him and his family. You wont catch me turning down a , that’s for sure!

They spend a couple of weeks each year driving around in their 4×4 with their 3 kids on board wild camping, what legends!

Before leaving them to their dinner and to be able to speak in their won language, Emmanuel offers me some GPX files of some great tracks hes been following. I’ll be sure to be taking those once I leave Morzine!



During the night I crack the camera out again.



Silhouetted biker staring at stars



The obligatory lit tent shot.

Day 70

After a night of pictures it’s an early morning. I decide to head to Morzine for a bit of battery charging. Its the cheapest place to stay in the area.

And that is where I write this.

The next update will be a little way off as I will be here for a little over a week riding mountain bikes. I’m not sure that will make for a great travel blog so I will exclude that and resume when I’m back on the road.

As always, please head to my Instagram here and follow for more regular updates.

Also, ad you’re email in the subscribe box to be notified of future updates.

fantastic places to visit lots of trail to travel , keep going .

In the rush to travel to the furthest, most remote spots, I think people sometimes forget just how much beauty there is right on their own doorstep.

Agreed, it's nice to travel to these super remote places but like you say, there's so much to enjoy near home. I'm certainly not in a rush to leave Europe!

Really enjoying the blog! Great to read how you are getting on I'm looking at the 250 Rally myself for a trip to Iceland an Norway instead of the 500x I was initially looking.

HUNGARY, SLIPPERY WHEN WET.


Welcome along, todays Feral blog will cover mountain biking, motorbiking, France…again, Switzerland, Slovenia, Hungary, and getting balls deep in a lake I wasn’t expecting to be there, what’s not to love!

So, if everyone’s sitting comfortably, then I shall begin.

When we left off on the last blog post (that you can see ‘here’) I’d just got to Morzine in the French Alps.

Morzine and mountain bikes
The intention was to pop to Morzine for week, ride some mountain bikes and then carry on with the trip. All these things happened, just for slightly longer than anticipated.

The date to get to Morzine was fairly fixed, some friends were driving out and another was flying out. Despite that, myself and another friend, Paul (who I’d shipped my mountain bike to prior to leaving on this trip), ended up getting to Morzine 4 days early. Once the rest of the lads had arrived, we rode for the next week straight.



Paul and I then extended our booking by an additional week. During this week, another two friends drove out, their plans to visit Canada had fallen through (for obvious reasons) so they decided to spend their holiday in the Alps instead, and I’m happy they did!



There was always a risk of getting stuck in Morzine for a while. Mountain biking is a bit of an itch that nothing else I’ve found yet can quite scratch. That certainly isn’t a complaint though, loved every second of it!

I had an epiphany!

(Well, maybe it was just a thought but they happen that rarely that I thought I’d brag about it!)

My time on Morzine did clear a few things up, however. Prior to the trip I was considering starting a YouTube channel and looking at how you go about monetizing the channel etc. The reason for this was that I was fairly sure I didn’t want to go back to the UK and maybe aiming to travel permanently would be a way to achieve that.

That has all been canned now. The new aim is to work remotely, spending 9 months in the south of Spain and 3 months in the Alps each year. How this is going to be achieved isn’t finalised yet but there are some irons in the fire so to speak.

Anyway, back to traveling about on a motorbike!

Fixing stuff

Before setting off again on the bike I decide to do a little maintenance. The fork seals have been weeping for a while and my Satnav mount has snapped and is currently held together with zip ties. As these are opposite ends of the difficulty spectrum with regards to on the road repairs, I decide to start with the fork rebuild.

Luckily, the staff at Hideout Hostel, where we’d been staying for the last two and a half weeks were nice enough to let me use their mountain bike maintenance area for rebuild my forks.



Forks rebuilt I just had to whip off the screen to change the Satnav mount and all was finished. A good mornings work!

So, a little later than planned it’s time to get back on the road, the previously mentioned friends, Gaz and Cat were leaving Morzine at the same time, so we decide to go and do one nights camping together before going our separate ways.

Back on the road!

After spending the rest of the day lazing around by the Lake in Montriond we decide to head to Chatel for the night.

I should probably point out that Gaz and Cat are in their van at this point, we’re not 3 up on the motorbike like some sort of circus act.

The aim at Chatel was to head up to a lake above the town to camp. Unfortunately, the van is playing up a little and can’t make it up the steep roads to get to the lake.

We settle on a wee spot on the outskirts of town and set up camp.

We spend the night playing a card game version of monopoly which surprisingly is a lot of fun!



In the morning I decide I should stop gatecrashing their holiday and leave them to their hike. It’s time to get back on the road properly and head into Switzerland. Which is conveniently placed about 500 meters up the road.

Switzerland.

I put Liechtenstein into the Garmin and set it to take me on a route through the mountains. The only reason I decided to go to Liechtenstein is, well, because it’s there, I guess.

As I get into Switzerland, the weather turns. The heat wave we’d been enjoying in Morzine is well and truly gone and the rain has arrived.



A fair few hours of epic roads pass….



Switzerland has the best roads!

Then the weather clears for a bit; I decide this may be a good time to look for a camp spot for the night. Settling on a patch of grass about 50m off the road and next to a stream I set up camp.



I normally try to get into slightly more interesting position than this for a camp spot but to be honest, I just didn’t give a shit at that point and would have happily slept in a carp park.

During the night, the rains has returned. I delay getting out of bed for a while. There are fines in Switzerland for camping roadside but as visibility is at about 3 meters at this point (2000m altitude, the clouds are covering me nicely) I ‘m really not too worried about getting a fine.



Liechtenstein.

Eventually I get up and continue my way to Liechtenstein. When I get there I realise the same thing that I did when I got to San Marion. It’s entirely unremarkable and I may have wasted some time visiting it…ah well, at least I’ve been now!

Leaving Liechtenstein.

Next stop, Slovenia.

The route I take, heads through Italy. I run out of enthusiasm for riding at about the same time I run out of light. I use the old faithful Park4Night app again and head to a little spot for the night.

Its already dark when I arrive. As the Park4Night App is aimed at Campervan owners, it tends to point you towards gravel carparks. This night was no different.

Luckily, there was a small wooded area next to the car park with a bit of grass in a small clearing. Under light of my headlight I put the tent up, get some dinner cooked and get to sleep. I didn’t sleep under the light of my headlight, just the tent and cooking bit, you may have figured that out though.

In the morning I wake up early, pack the tent and pop into the woods for a wee. I notice that’s there are a lot of little piles of toilet roll in the woods. There are no signs of poo. There are little patches of it everywhere, on the floor, in the hedges, even hanging from a tree.


Jizzy tissues


Jizzy tissues everywhere!

This is when I have one of those lightbulb moments. There was a lot of cars coming into and out of the car park last night. It would seem that this is the second time on this trip that I have camped in quite a popular dogging spot. I must be pissing off the dogging community the world over!

Leaving the dogging behind!

So, I get to Slovenia. I made my way to a coastal town called Koper. When I arrive it’s a lovely little place, so I have a ride around for a bit. I’ve got a skype call later and some work I need to get done for the previously mentioned iron in the fire. So, I decide to find some accommodation for a couple of nights that’s a little sturdier than my tent.

For some reason that I still don’t understand, Koper was entirely booked out. No hostel beds or Airbnb’s available at all…I decide to look further north towards Bled where I’d be heading next.

Accommodation found, it’s about an hours ride.

Getting some work done.

When I arrive, I find out why it’s so cheap. Well, obviously, it’s a bit shit. All I wanted was Wi-Fi. After trying to use the internet for a while I decide to use a speed checker to see what speeds I’m dealing with here. The website wont load. Not a good sign!

Regardless of the shitty Wi-Fi I manage to finish the work I needed. So, lets fast forward to leaving this lovely place!

I head north to a lake called Bohinjsko Jezero…rolls off the tongue doesn’t it! There’s something I quite like about getting to parts of the world where I can’t get my head around how to even say half the words I read!

When I arrive and sit for a while, I realise I’m more in the mood for riding than sitting so I get back on the bike and head to Bled.

Now I can imagine a lot of people would be thinking, ‘why just leave again, you haven’t even explored yet’. Which is a valid point. The type of touring I like to do is fast paced, obviously not in terms of road speed, I ride a 250! More in that I enjoy continuously moving. There’s something quite nice about passing through a town, not stopping and only getting a snapshot of the place for a split second.

Anyway, on to Bled!

Bled.

Its only about 45 mins with traffic to get from Bohinjsko Jezero to Bled.

Bled is as nice as it looks on the photos. Well, if you look in the right direction it is! If you’ve seen the movie Shrek and remember the fairy godmother’s factory…it’s a little cottage and then when the camera zooms out its attached to a massive factory spewing smoke. It’s a little like that. There’s no smoke, nor a talking donkey but there are hotels lining the banks and restaurants everywhere and more people than you could shake a fair-sized stick at.

I understand why. Why wouldn’t loads of people want to visit this:



After a quick swim I decide to head to Maribor.

Maribor.

As with other towns I’ve stayed in I get a cheap room for the night.

I’m only using the stopover in Maribor as a staging point for starting the next part of the trip. The plan is to head into Hungary and take the Trans Euro Trail all the way to Budapest and onto Slovakia after that.

The next day comes, as they often do, I load the bike and set the Satnav for the start point of the Hungarian Trans Euro Trail. After a while of weaving between Slovenia and Austria I cross into Hungary. It’s about another 25km of asphalt until the dirt starts.

Back on the Trans Euro Trail.

The start of the trail cuts through farmland. As the last two days have been 30 degrees, I’m expecting a good fast paced ride on dusty tracks. The first mile manages to destroy that delusion! The puddles start and get increasingly big as I ride. The space between the puddles gets increasingly slick.



The bike is now starting to spend a lot of time pointing sideways as I slither up the trail.

After a while, the trail takes a sharp right. I stop to check the Satnav as the track is harder to see and it doesn’t look like anyone has been this way for a while. The GPX file confirms it’s that way, so on I go.

The puddles continue to grow in size, the biggest at this point has managed to swallow the entirety of the front wheel (and obviously everything at that height that followed it), which given it’s a 21” front plus the tyre height, that’s a big old hole in the ground.



I then get to what looks like a little stream that’s spilled onto the trail flooding the trail up until the next corner. I can’t work out how deep the water is at this point, so I get off the bike to have a closer look. After a little wander in to test depth I’m happy It’s just about knee deep with one section being a little deeper.

As I have gortex boots that are a little below knee height this seems like the most annoying depth I could have waded into.

I waded in about 50-100m and the depth seemed to say consistently around knee high (except for the one deep bit already mentioned).

Decisions, decisions…

I’m now stood back by my bike looking up the trail. I can’t see round the corner up the trail, I’m on my own on a bike that’s far more loaded than the usual bikes that ride down the TET (normally it’s aimed at enduro bikes traveling light). The choices are, turn around and find an alternative, wade in for as long as it takes to see here the end of the water is or, just go for it and see what happens.



I’m not known for being overly cautious in my decision making and today seems to be no different. I reach the opinion of ‘F**k it, what’s the worst that can happen’ fairly quickly.

I get back on my bike and crack on into the water.

The first deep bit comes up to about 6 inches above my pegs. As I exit that deep section it levels out at around peg height for the next 100-150m. I’m feeling pretty pleased by this point. When I get to the corner, the water gets deeper, only about the depth of the previous deep section but for a longer period.

By this point I’m committed. I’m in a rut that I can’t see as its under water and by this point the water is halfway up the bike.

Time to get wet.

Suddenly the bike shifts 2 feet to the right, it catches me completely off guard and I end up putting a foot down to avoid dropping the bike. The ground under the water consists of slick mud, with the angle of the bike and the slick ground underfoot it becomes apparent I’m not going to save this one.

The water is 2 ½ feet deep at this point. Its decision time. I hit the kill switch to stop the engine. Drop the bike, quickly step off and lift it back out of the water.

It’s only been submerged for a second or two…it doesn’t start again…F**K.

I turn off the ignition, leave the bike for a couple of minutes and try again. The bike fires up like nothing happened. Got to love a Honda!

So, now I’m stood next to my bike, it’s on higher ground than me and with the extra height from the aftermarket suspension and slick mud I’m stood on there is no chance I’m getting back on without dropping it again. I pull the clutch and engage first with my hand. With the bike under power I walk it out to a point where I can use the outside of the rut to get back on.

Once on I’m able to make it about another 200m to a little shallow patch which is just about ankle deep.

Looking up the trail I can’t see the end of the water. I look at the map and it seems that there is an asphalt road just ahead, maybe a mile at most.



Its decision time again. Turn around and head back or crack on and see what’s in store. Now, I know what’s behind me is shit, I’m just assuming what’s ahead is. And even if it is shit, at least it will be new shit that I haven’t encountered before. Variety is the spice of life, and all that.

On I go!

Whats the worst that can happen

The shallow bit lasts for all of about 10 meters, I’m now back to the water being between 6 and 12 inches above my foot pegs. It’s getting deeper and the path is becoming less obvious.

As I round the next corner, I lose the path completely. The field has opened up and there is no way to tell which way to head. I find a spot that’s shallow enough that I think most of the stuff that I really don’t want to get wet is out of the water and consult the GPS on my phone. I know what you’re thinking, you’ve got a Garmin with a GPX file, Mike, just follow that!

You are correct, but what you’re forgetting is that Garmin’s are shit. They don’t update your location and direction too quickly and the little biker dude on the screen is often not pointing the same way as me. In fact, he, or she, they have a little helmet on so I can’t tell, often moves around on the screen to a different location so trusting it in this situation would be daft!

I work out the direction I need to head and get moving, I’ve picked a tree on the other side of the field and I’m heading for that. At this point I can’t see the trail and it looks like I’m just riding over grass that’s submerged. This works better as the ruts are gone and it’s a whole load less sketchy under the wheels.

When I get there, I’m faced with, yet another field completely submerged, in fact it looks like a lake. This one looks deep, like really deep. What I do spot on the other side of the field though, is a road. A nice asphalt road, just a few hundred meters away. Happy days! All I need to do now is cross this one last field…

The home stretch!

As I start to cross the water gets deeper…and deeper…and deeper. It’s getting worryingly deep by this point but I’m nearly home free. As I’m approaching the road the water is obviously the deepest I’ve hit so far. I decide, because I’ve clearly nailed the decision making so far, to just crack on, the waters too deep to stop really so I’m ****ed either way.

As I drop into the deepest section the water comes up over the seat, completely submerging both panniers at the same time, I’m now, for want of a better expression, balls deep in a lake I wasn’t expecting to be there. My front fender is completely under water and at a guess, I would say I only had a couple of inches under my handlebars to the water.

To my amazement the little Honda tractors its way out the other side. Across the last 20 meters of field to the asphalt road.

I park on the road, I’m tired, very wet and amazed that the bike didn’t cut out at any point. What an amazing machine!



I don’t go anywhere for a while, I just sort of stand and stare at the lake. It doesn’t take long at all for it to turn from being exhausted to finding it very funny. A bit of determination and poor decision-making trumps rational thought and talent, yet another example that it’s better to be lucky than good!

Below shows the route across the last field/lake. That’s one soggy Trans Euro Trail!



Now that it’s taken me an hour to do the last mile and a half, and all my kit is soaked through. I don’t just mean riding kit. Literally everything has been under water. The most worrying of which is my camera kit. On closer inspection, the pannier containing the camera kit is the only item of luggage that didn’t keep the water out. Typical!

My clocks are also playing up now. It’s seems that water is playing havoc inside so the whole display is partially illuminated.

Budapest bound!

I decide to make a B-line for Budapest. I book a hotel (its only £20 a night and its pretty decent!) for a few nights. I’m currently sat, typing this with some of my camera kit and the stripped-down clocks from the bike in a big bag of rice. Tomorrow I will take the camera and lenses to a local camera shop for them to strip and clean them while I reassemble the bike.

Hopefully, this won’t cost too much to rectify and I can get back on the road and head to Slovakia.

Looking back, was it a poor decision to head into the water…absolutely. If I could go back, would I do it again…hell-yeah!

Instagram - HERE
Blog - HERE

Brilliant.
I hope your funding plans work out for you.

Sorry all, was being a little slow when it comes to adding videos , should all be up and working now

Hello all, when we left off last time I’d just got to Budapest in a particularly soggy state and had just started drying out my bike and kit.

If you’re wondering why, you can find out ‘here‘.

So, because the next week and a bit is pretty boring, I’ll give a brief overview. Dried out the clocks of the bike, re-fitted them, they work like a beauty, all good. All camera equipment fine after a clean at the shop, not such a drama after all.



Next up, Slovakia.

Actually, before we get to Slovakia, which, for the record, will not take long, I’ll explain the title of this blog post a little.

As you may be aware, a lot of countries in the world are again getting their panties in a bunch about a certain virus that’s floating about. I do understand that at no point since March have any country (except Belarus and Sweden) not had their panties in a bunch about this, but just as the wedgie was starting to be pulled free, the bunch suddenly got bigger, and wedged further up their collective cracks.

So, as a result of the aforementioned pantie bunching, countries are again closing their borders. The main two being Ukraine and Hungary.

As Ukraine had already closed while I was in Hungary, I had only a couple of days to have a look around Slovakia before needing to get back into Hungary before they closed their borders.

Now it’s time for Slovakia.

Slovakia

After all that waffle, I’m sure you’re expecting something exciting here…well, you my friend, would be wrong.

I made a b-line for a couple of lakes in the middle of what looked like a fairly hilly section of Slovakia. While riding through, I had an overwhelming feeling of…meh. I understand that there are some big mountains in Slovakia…I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

You see, when you spend all day, every day, just riding around cool places, you become somewhat of a snob.

After a month in the Alps, these hills and lakes were not exactly setting my world on fire.

I decided that I was going to head back to Hungary the next day.

I pull over to have a look at google maps. Quite close to where I am there are some farmers fields that lead down to a river. I go for a little explore and set up camp.



Shortly after making that video, the heavens opened so an early night was in order.

Early the next morning I set off east, travel a couple of hundred kilometers and then drop back down into Hungary through a different border point.

That’s a weight off…
During the night I’ve decide to send my camera equipment to a mate for safe keeping for the remainder of my trip. I love photography but it is apparent that my storage solution for the cameras is shit, and there is a real risk of damaging expensive equipment. For this reason, I book into a place in Budapest again and sort out postage.

When weighing my equipment, it turns out the total weight it 8kg, that may not sound like a lot (unless you’re a biker in which case you’re currently shouting ‘HOW MUCH?!’) but removing that much from the luggage of the bike transformed the bike. It also meant I could get rid of a bag and run a little lighter weight.

Time to leave Budapest…again.

This time in the direction of Romania. I don’t really know what to expect with Romania, I don’t know much about the place and I’ve done next to no research.

Leaving Hungary and entering Romania feels like a little more of an adventure, for no other reason than its not part of the Schengen zone so you get your passport checked. It’s the little things!

Romania

As soon as you get into Romania it is exactly like you would expect an eastern European country to be, roads are beat up, the driving’s terrible, horse and carts all over the place, but, it’s awesome! There’s just something about it I really like, I can’t for the life of me put my finger on it though.

So, I plot a bit of a course towards Bucharest through the mountains. A friend of a friend lives in Bucharest so I’ve arranged to go and meet him for a bit of a look around.



As accommodation is damn cheap in Romania, I decide hotels/guest houses are the way to go. In the usual planning style, I ride until I can’t be arsed anymore and get booking.com out. There’s a place near by that’s cheap and looks ok, that’ll do!

For an evening meal I got to the restaurant that’s attached to the hotel. I go a little bit crazy and order the most expensive thing on the menu, steak tartare, with a starter and a …£9.30, gotta love Romania!

Bucharest

The next morning it’s time to get to Bucharest. The weather is shocking, and all my waterproofs are now far from waterproof so it’s a lovely journey. When I finally arrive in my accommodation in Bucharest I’m soaked through. If you have read any adverts about Oxford Mondial laminated textile clothing, where it says something like ‘same performance as the top brands but at half the price’…the second half of that statement is true.

The next day I head out to meet Andi. I manage to walk straight past him in the street even though he was talking to me to me at the time. If you’ve read some of my previous posts, you’ll know that sometimes I do stupid really well!

Free wine!

Anyway, after he calls me and tells me to turn around, we head off into Bucharest. We spend about 4 mins sightseeing and then head to a pub. As we order a bit of food the waitress comes over and informs us that if we download an app, she will give us a free bottle of wine each. OOOOOk, sign me up! It would seem that instead of a pleasant evening in Bucharest, things were about to go sideways…But as they say, when in Rome…actually, when I was in Rome I just walked around for 4 hours taking night shots…we’re not in Rome, we’re in Bucharest and about to get twisted on free wine.



We end the night in a shisha bar, which I couldn’t tell you were it was now if you paid me. We leave at what I thought as a reasonable hour but turns out it was about 3am and the gates to my accommodation were now locked. After a few beverages it’s amazing how the brain works. Mine told me there was no point wasting time with the buzzer, I could just climb this bad boy…did some climbing, ended up in bed, all was well.

The next day I decide that it’s time to make some proper progress. I’m still not sure how far I’m able to make it with the current state of border closures.

B-line for Turkey

To cut a long story short…I blast through Bulgaria, only stopping for a night. Get to the Turkish border, grab a green card and crack on into Turkey.



I’d been speaking to a chap through the delights of social medial since before I started my trip. Being a US citizen, he’s now stuck in Turkey and has been for 7 months. He can’t head east, and the EU won’t let him in!

It turns out that this chap is just the other side of the border, so I book into the same hotel and we spend the day looking around and chatting all things travel and bike.





If you’re interested, his Instagram account can be found ‘Natethenomadallen‘. He’s a quite different type of traveler to me. He likes to get stuck right in, and stay in a country for months seeing every little aspect. His posts are quite informative. Unlike mine! I like to pass through at speed and maybe take 2 pictures as I go.

After getting a load of suggestions for good places to visit I head to Istanbul. My plan here is to stay in a hotel for a few days and research all possible routes east, or any other direction for that matter.

Hit a wall

After a lot of reading I realise I’m shit out of luck. There are no options east. The lack of option of an option for getting into Georgia was confirmed by Nate, who had already been turned back. I also investigated Armenia, Iran, Iraq and Syria, all a no go. I then looked into heading north to Russia and east from there.

Then, I started to look into Africa. Again, from the world of social media there were tails of people bailing out of trips from all over the continent. There is a patchwork of open countries but none of these are next to each other which would result in a lot of flying the bike. This is obviously expensive and defeats the object if going by bike in the first place.

So, at this point I decide that I need to pause my trip. Its not ideal but There is literally nowhere left to go.

Home is where you park it.

A quick call to a mate in Spain and we rent a house in a town called Tarifa. I’m going to head there and spend the winter riding mountain bikes and waiting for the world to become less virusy.

As I’m in Turkey I decide to still have a look around.

Again, to cut a long story short, after a few days I decide to end the Turkey trip early. In the words of Maverick and Goose, ‘I’ve lost that loving feeling’…for travel. I’ve always been an advocate of ‘It’s not about the destination, its about the journey’. But without a destination, it’s not really a journey at all.

So, what next…well, it’s time to head home. Or at least my adopted home for the winter. But, having said that, it doesn’t mean that travel is over immediately. I’m still in Turkey and that’s about a 4,500km ride from where I intend to stay. Better get moving.



If you haven’t driven in Turkey, its an experience! On a motorcycle you’re a second class citizen, they will pretty much drive through you like you’re not even there. It also seems that I got to Turkey just in time for ‘National drive your overloaded truck into a ditch’ day. This was certainly not the first I saw!



Less Turkey, more Bulgaria

Again, lets fast forward to leaving Turkey and entering Bulgaria. I decide to stay in a little town called Burgas by the sea. It’s a nice little place, chilled and quiet. I’ll be honest, it was that quiet and chilled I forgot to take any photos at all!

Next, I head east, I’d been told about an old communist era building that is worth looking at in the mountains. When I arrive, I can see why, its like some kind of giant communist flying saucer. What I can’t understand though, is why the building isn’t being used, it would make an epic hotel!



After leaving the soviet UFO I decide to head north toward Romania. I’m going to visit Andi later in the week and I wanted to spend more time in Romania, so it makes sense to head there now.

About 25km from the border I decide I’m going to make camp. I can see that there is a river to my right as I’m riding so I take the next dirt track towards it into the scrub land. It takes me a kilometer or so down toward the river. Unfortunately, when I get to the end, I’m unable to get to the river as its down a pretty much sheer 25ft cliff. None the less it makes a good camp spot. Or it did until I met the local mosquito population. There are thousands of the little wankers. The tent goes up quickly and I get in, dinner today will consist of the bread meat and cheese I have with me as there no way I’m going out to cook!

The next morning, I get up early, the winds picked up, so the mosquitos are grounded, wahoo!



Romania…again!

After the bike is packed its time to head to Romania. The border comes and goes in its usual uneventful way. The only questions from border staff born out of curiosity more than anything. And I’m back in Romania. The plan is to ride the Transfagarasan, which is a mountain pass through the Carpathian Mountains of Romania. Id heard good things, but how good could it really be?!







That good!

The road is epic, the asphalt is terrible but who cares when it looks like that. Plus, I’m on a little dirt bike, its hardy a problem to hit a few potholes.

After posting a few pics on Instagram I get informed by a few people that I should ride the Transaplina as it’s a better road. I did consider heading west to come back down it but decide to head to Brasov, which is where I write this from.

From here I’m heading back to Bucharest to meet Andi this evening. I have a couple of options for the day in my head. Go and see Dracula’s castle or go and ride the Transalpina…or both, who knows!

As always, there are more pictures and videos on my instagram if you're interested, have a look here

And my blog can be found here

As always, you can read this at The Feral Traveller - My solo round the world motorcycle trip if you want links to work.

Its been a while

Hello all! It has been a while since my last update. Basically, I’ve been a lazy shit, as I have had to pause my trip for a while, I sort of lost my blog writing mojo.

But anyway, here we are, its nearly Christmas (probably past Christmas by the time I finish this). That is of course if, a) for you, Christmas is a thing, and b) you live in a country where it hasn’t been cancelled by a big floppy haired buffoon of a Prime Minister. Maybe its easier to say, ‘it’s nearly the end of the year’ instead? Actually, it’s not if you’re Chinese…OK, so it’s a random day of the year to which some people may or may not have arbitrarily applied meaning. Can you tell I’m all full up with Christmas cheer this year?

So, let’s go back to where we left of last time, to be honest, I’m going to quickly pop back and read the last post so I know when/where that was, if you need to do the same it can be found ‘here‘…hold on, I’ll be back shortly.

Right, I’m back and up to speed…

Disclaimer

I should probably start by saying that’s this post covers riding 2,180 miles / 3,500km through 12 countries in 8 days (i’m sure the title gave that away?) and I do wander off on a tangent about pie cheese for a while, so if you’re easily bored, this may not be the blog post for you!

Still reading…can’t say I didn’t warn you!

Romania

I was in the middle of Romania when I last wrote, that seems like a lifetime ago! But that is where we shall pick up my ramblings.

So as mentioned in my last post, I’m in Brasov, I have couple of options for the day which are, a) go and see where Dracula lived or b), go and ride some more cool roads that lots of people have advised me are better than the Transfăgărășan or c), both.

I opted for b), I’m much more of a fan of getting out and riding than I am looking at castles.

Transalpina

The road I’m heading to is called the Transalpina. I was far from convinced that it was going to be better than the Transfăgărășan but I’m always happy to be wrong.

The trip to the start of the Transalpina is going to be a boring one. I set off in the direction of Sebes, which is the northern end of the Transalpina and about 200km west of Brasov. Well, if you’re going to be picky, Sebes is on the road that allows you to drop down to the Transalpina. Its pretty much main roads the whole way which is not the natural habitat of a 24bhp motorbike.

Fast forward a couple of dull hours and its time to head south from Sebes to the Transalpina. I’ve ridden this section of road on my first trip across Romania a couple of weeks ago. It’s a nice enough road that brings you up to a lake.



90km south of Sebes is the start of the Transalpina, there’s a sign and everything. This had better be good, 300km ridden today and I’ve only just got to the start!



Finally, the Transalpina

The people that had recommended that I ride the Transalpina had mostly said the road is better, but the views are not very good. I’d disagree with that last bit! As you set off on the Transalpina, the roads are obviously in better condition but its also a better riding road. A lot of people rave about Alpine passes in Italy and France, but forget about those, this is where it’s at. It’s like and alpine pass but 5 times as long with considerably less slow-moving campervans.

The road was so good I didn’t bother taking any pictures, I ended up riding with a guy up the mountain from bottom to top in one hit. As he was on a GS1250HP the poor CRF took an absolute beating to keep up. Luckily, the quantity of the tight corners is a bit of a leveler for bike performance. I ended up finding the limit of my front tyre quite often on this road. The good thing about a Mitas e-07 (that’s a tyre for the non-bikers) is that it just starts to slowly drift rather than suddenly braking traction. With all the weight on the bike and going up hill you can just push and push until the front wheel starts drifting across the road towards a free air ambulance ride…then back it off a bit.

The views are bad, they said

At the top, Mr GS1250 (he probably has a real name) caries on and I stop to take some pictures of the shitty view.



From there its down the hill and back to Bucharest.

On the way down I slow down a little, I’ve had far too many ‘how the **** did I get away with that’ moments on the way up so decide that I’ve probably used up my good luck for the day.

You shall not pass

A couple of km’s from the bottom on the other side it starts to get really busy, there’s people all over the road, the verges are full of people sitting about and there are cars parked everywhere. A little further on and there’s a police road block. The Police tell me they have blocked off the bottom of the pass for a Rally that’s taking place. The Police Officers English seemed to dry up quickly when I asked him why they hadn’t put a warning on the other side of the ****ing mountain. This is a one road type mountain pass. There’s no other option. The Policeman did tell me I only had to wait 6 hours for the rally to finish and I could carry on…or, I could take a “quick” 100km detour back over the mountain and round the nearest alternative route.

I go for the second option. Luckily, I’ve got a fuel bladder full otherwise I’d have had no option but to wait for the rally to finish. By the look on the faces of a lot of other bikers backing up behind the roadblock, most didn’t have enough fuel to make it back over the mountain.

Back on the road

Anyway, many miles and hours later and a lot of full throttle and I’m back in Bucharest and out for a with Andi and Silvia, happy days!

The next day I decide to start the slog back to Spain. I’m not one for pottering about once I’ve decided to get somewhere so I’m just going to get on the road for as many hours as possible. Having said that, I wanted to ride through as many of the Baltic countries as I could. I’m not going to get the full experience of traveling through these countries, but I can at least get a taste of them.

As it turns out, Andi has a flat in Drobeta-Turnu Severin right on the Romanian-Serbian border which he kindly offered me for the night, so that’s my first stop. Not much to report about the trip through Romania, mostly highways.

In fact, for the rest of this post, until I hit Tarifa the south Spain, to save time explaining how I rode, it went like this; fill tank, join motorway, pull throttle to the stop, pull in, put in fuel…repeat. Trying to cover big miles on a bike with less pulling power than an asthmatic cat can grow old fast!

Serbia

So, the next day comes and I get up early to head into Serbia. The Serbian government website says I need a negative COVID-19 test to enter. I don’t have one. **** it, they can only say no. The lady at the border doesn’t even ask for it, when she sees my passport, she’s more interested in how the UK government is handling the issue of Covid. She seems very happy when I tell her it’s a complete shit show at home, so we have a little chat about that. Then she stamps my passport and off I go.





The plan for the next few days is to just ride flat out and see how many countries I can tick off and how many miles I can get done.

Serbia comes and goes quickly, I’m at the Kosovan border before I know it. I did end up having a very long conversation with an elderly gentleman at a petrol station in Serbia who took particular exception to the state of my chain. I have no idea what he was saying as he didn’t speak a word of English and my google translate into Serbian seemed to just inspire him to speak faster.

There was no way to hand the phone over as the alphabet is different so he couldn’t type back anyway (I did try). Either way, I’m sure all his points were valid as my chain was a mess. He didn’t seem to take any solace in my telling him that I was going to throw the chain in the bin in 4/5 days and that my bike didn’t have the power to snap a chain even if it was 100% rust. In the end I had to leave while he was still telling me off, I couldn’t think of another way to end the conversation!

Kosovo

At the Kosovan border I need to sort a green card for insurance cover. If you’re planning to head through the Balkans, get your insurer to send you a green card ahead of time or it will cost you a packet.

Luckily as I didn’t have the correct cash on me for the Green card the nice guy at the border handed me the insurance document and told me it was a present and waved me away and didn’t want any form of payment, what a dude!

Kosovo is slightly smaller than a postage stamp so travel time through was short.

The roads in Kosovo were surprising. I was expecting it to be a lot more run down. In reality the main road to North Macedonia was incredible, a brand-new raised motorway that ran all the way to the border following the contours of the valley, and it was empty.



Moving from Kosovo to North Macedonia was a slightly different affair to the last border crossing. The guy who was responsible for selling you the green card insurance was a scamming little shit. Now, I don’t mind a clever scam. This guy just lied badly but seemed convinced that he was pulling a fast one and that he was doing it so well there was no way I could possibly know. After paying way more for insurance than I should have done, I made my way into North Macedonia.

North Macedonia

At this point I’ve had enough for the day, time to book a hotel in Skopje get some food and go to sleep, its going to be a long day tomorrow too.

So, as often happens, morning comes and its time to spend another day riding for far too many hours.

Although the aim is to get ground covered quickly, it seems a shame to not take in a few national parks on the way through. A quick look and National Park Mavrovo is on the way to the Albanian border, so that’s the first port of call.

North Macedonia is a bit of an unexpected treat. Well worth popping back for longer trip at some point, no idea when that will be though!



On to Albania.

Albania

Albania is another short excursion. The first task is to find cash as no petrol station that I found accepted card payment. Not as easy as you’d think in the mountains of north Albania.

Cash found, fuel purchased and back into the Albanian mountains.





From here I make a b-line for the Montenegro border on the med coast. Time for another green card, that’s the 4th in 2 days. Honestly, if you’re going to the Balkans by bike (or car), get a green card from your insurance company before going!

Montenegro

Into Montenegro, I’ve wanted to ride the coast of Montenegro for a while. It doesn’t disappoint, its like a more rugged version of the Croatian coast.

As I’m on a bit of a mission the Montenegro coast comes and goes in a couple of hours and I’m into Croatia.



Now, I know what you’re thinking here, ‘That’s 4 countries in one day, slow down a little Mike, enjoy the ride’, and you may have a point, but no, I’ve decided to get it done as quick as I can so that’s what I’ll do. You may use expressions here like ‘you’re cutting your nose off to spite your face’…damn right, I’m stubborn (may also be described as a bit of a dick), I’ll pluck an eye out while I’m at it, just to make sure the face really knows who’s boss.

Croatia

Soooo, Croatia, luckily you don’t need a green card for Croatia so that’s an expense dodged. I’m pretty tired so book a hotel just past Dubrovnik. I’ve visited this part of Croatia before and it’s beautiful but I’ve been riding for an age now so the lights gone. If you would like to see what my view is like at this point. Close your eyes for a bit…great isn’t it.

It’s a pie cheese

I get to the hotel and head for dinner. I’ve been told that the restaurant is serving a 4-course dinner for the equivalent £20, I may have made that price up, it was a while ago and facts are a little fuzzy. What I do remember however is being the only person in the restaurant and the waiter being like Manuel out of Faulty Towers. He brings me the first course, it seems to be a little bit of ham on a plate, the reason for this is because it was. The second course was similar. The waiter then asked me what I wanted for a main,

Me – I’ll have the chicken please…

Manuel – oh no Sir, that is very bad.

Me – How about the pasta?

Manuel – oh no Sir, that is very bad too.

Me – Right then Manuel, what do you recommend.

Manuel – Have the steak, sir, very very good

I can only assume, what he meant by ‘very very good’, was the “chef” has been cooking this steak since last Tuesday and really needs to sell it. I think he started cooking the mash slightly beforehand as it was so runnymI couldn’t keep it on the fork. Basically, this was one of those meals that was sooo bad it was funny. After eating some leather and wall paper paste the waiter reappears,

Manuel – would you like a pie cheese, sir

Me – …a what now? Do you mean cheesecake?

Manuel – No Sir, it is a pie cheese.

Me – Yeah, sure mate, I’ll have a pie cheese.

It was a cheesecake. An apple crumble cheesecake to be precise, only without the flavor, or any form of moisture.

Anyway, bed time.

Odd that the whole of Montenegro got far less of a write up than pie cheese, ah well, if you’re still expecting a travel blog by this point, you only have yourself to blame.

The next morning, I pop down to see Manuel for breakfast before getting on the road early.

Bosnia

I hit the Bosnian border quickly. If you’re unaware, there is about a 10km strip of Bosnia cutting off the bottom section of Croatia, its rather annoying for insurance reasons. Bosnia does require a green card and apparently you can’t buy it at the border, I found this out at the border. Luckily, the border officer here was a bit of a legend, he said ‘go, just don’t crash’. I managed both of those requests and was back in Croatia in no time.

Not Bosnia

The weather forecast was for heavy rain all day. It wasn’t wrong. The only reasonable way to describe the weather would be, ‘proper shit’.

Now, I’ve moaned about my Oxford Mondial kit before, but allow me to revisit that complaint! If you are thinking of buying it and have read the reviews saying its great and keeps you bone dry. I can assure you it does not. Its crap, half an hour after the heavens have opened and I’m piss wet through. I’m in for one of those days where I’m sitting at full throttle (about 18mph) on the motorway grumbling to myself about how this was a shitty idea and who likes travel anyway.

This happy-go-lucky disposition continues until I hit Slovenia where I check into a hotel by the Italian border. I hang my kit out to dry, grab a few s from the supermarket, watch a crappy film and pretend the day didn’t happen.

Slovenia

The next day comes and the weathers looking good. Happy days!

Into Italy!

Not Slovenia, Italy!

I’ve got a bee in my bonnet about making some progress today, so I decide to take the toll roads. I’m cracking on well and making some good progress. Then, during a fuel stop I’m walking out of the petrol station back to my bike and decide that I could really do with sorting my chain tension out.

I crack off the axle and adjust the tension…here’s where I found a great way to save time, don’t bother re-tightening the rear axle. A great tip for you there, although this does have a negative impact on the bike’s performance. Luckily though the rear wheel didn’t come loose until I was banked over at 45 degrees at full throttle entering a motorway. If nothing else, this certainly woke me up!

So, there I am at the side of the Italian motorway with my chain off and the rear wheel no longer attached to the bike. I’m not going to lie, it hampered progress.

Going nuts

I thought at this point, I might as well walk back up the road and see if I can find the nut that had parted ways with the bike. As you may expect, I did not find it…back to the bike.

I get on google and look for any bike mechanics/ bike parts shop nearby. Amazingly there’s a Honda dealer about 6 miles away. Now, how to get there.

I pop the chain back on, put the bolt back through and look at my options for securing it. The best option I come up with is electrical tape. As that’s the best, you can imagine how bad the other options were.

Once I’ve wrapped enough electrical tape round the threaded section of the axle to prevent it falling out, I crack on down the hard shoulder and off the motorway. Amazingly the tape does the job and gets me to the dealership where the guy fetches me a new nut…back in business!

France

I get back on the motorway and make it through Italy into France, stopping just past Cannes in a place called Frejus. In total that’s 460 miles / 740km in a day, not bad considering my wheel fell off at one point and I have a top speed only marginally above walking pace.

The next day is more of the same, all toll roads or main roads and flat out all day. I make it through France and into Spain, stopping in a place called Castellon de la Plana. Today has been a 510 mile / 820 km day, not quite the furthest I’ve done on a 250 in a day, but it’s up there!

Spain

The last day is just shy of 500 miles. I get that cracked out and I arrive at what will be home for the winter, Tarifa, just past Gibraltar.



So, all in all, I’m not sure how good my 3,500km, 12 country sprint across Europe idea was, it certainly made me not want to see my bike for a while.

But anyway, this is where I’ll be for a while now. It will give me time to make some modifications to the bike that I feel are needed having now covered 43,000 km and have got to know the bike a bit better. I’ll write a separate post about that though. Lets hope next year is a little more travel friendly!

Blog - The Feral Traveller - My solo round the world motorcycle trip
Instagram - The_feral_traveller