Cross Country moto... No Challenge

Quite an easy day today. We’re still suffering under the curse of womens issues so instead of a longer drive into Lyon we had a shortened trip into Albi which took roughly an hour. Getting out of Toulouse was pretty straight forward and I was able to follow the signs all the way from one hotel to another. If I’d followed the GPS or google maps I’d probably still be there now...
Anyway, one minor issues was with my front tank. There were marks on the front upper lip where I can only assume the tyre has made contact. I’ve tried to replicate the conditions by jumping it up and down curbs loaded and unloaded and braking as hard as possible but nothing. I’ve marked the front with powder and cannot get the tyre to mark the fresh powder. I can only assume it’s from Barcelona where we braked for our lives behind a scooter, it’s the only full-blooded emergency stop I’ve made. From now on I’ll ride more carefully and keep a close eye on it. When I get back I will look at moving it. I might be able to move it back or down a bit or maybe switch it to mount on the side of the bike (my original idea) so we’ll have a play when i get home. I like the weight where it is but frankly the spot will be fine to mount other heavy gear so nothing is really lost
Ambi is nice. An old town full of French clichés and impressive architecture. The cathedral was open to the public and she went into shutter-bug mode instantly, firing snaps off at everything. We were allowed to just walk in and she observed, quite rightly, “not like England... they want paying for everything...”
We found an old monument bridge and my vertigo oddly flared up. It was only a hundred metres high above water and chances of survival if you were to fall were good. Yesterday chances of survival were less than none but I was fine. I guess irrational fear is not meant to be logical. Nice to know I’m still carrying totally baseless emotional baggage. In any case, I still walked across it and the view was very impressive. People are nice here too. I like France but it’s so damn expensive. Food is now three times the price it was a hundred miles ago. It’s good though, the cooking here is top notch. I want to try a McDonalds at some point to see what they’re like here but we haven’t even seen one.
We had a bit of rain today. The weather forecast says it’s in for tonight and then clears up. Showers by Thursday but we’ll be in another country by then so we’ll see what happens.
My brother has bought a V-strom for touring. He’s coming away with me on the Europe leg of my ride to Asia. It’s going to be a more hard-core trip, we’ll be packing less weight and running cheap. No hotels this time, camping rough. I think it’s the wrong bike, not just for the trip but for him. He tends to get bored with bikes too quickly and I can’t see the Strom getting under his skin and I think he needs to learn to love a bike and keep it long enough to bond with it. I also think that while comfortable it might be a bit too bland and heavy but we’ll see. It’s got more power than i’ve got and his bum won’t be as sore... maybe I’m jealous of that.
I think my bike is perfect for my big trip and the modifications make it just right but there’s other considerations. I use my bike daily at home. I can’t afford to take it off the road for 6 months at a time between trips to prep it. She always needs to be ready. She’ll also be daily used when i arrive in Thailand so I had to consider that too. The only thing I didn’t consider is this Europe trip, 2 up. I didn’t have that in mind when i bought my bike or even when i started the upgrades. The suspension work was just for my own benefit. The upshot is that she’s doing fine but I’m not happy with the extra weight. She’s not designed, built or rebuilt for this. I’m being careful and so far no sign of problems. I wanted the Touratech rear boxes which come with a steel subframe and can handle the weight. The cost was over £1100 and boxes are not ideal off road. My solution was £300. I thought about the 09 rear steel subframe but that was £800 from BMW (I could buy a Honda Dominator for that and just ride it). Again, not worth the cash for the possibility of snapping the subframe which is a slim possibility and I’m already taking precautions against by packing carefully. Power wise... I guess the truth is I could have done with a V-strom. I know there are crazy (American mostly) people on the ADV forum (mostly crazy Americans) who reckon the Strom is a true enduro capable of anything including travelling through time, flying and fighting robot dinosaurs but the truth is that’s a low-slung multi-strada machine with cast wheels that can just about handle some fire-roads. With two up that would have suited me fine. Acutally I looked into possible weight savings of stripping one to the bone and reworking it with better shock and forks but I found the cost prohibitive and still thought the Beemer the better bike (opinion varies).
In any case it’s always exciting to have a new bike on the table so I’m keen to see what he does with it. For my money I’d add HID spotlights straight off, upgrade the horn and look into a sturdier bash-plate. I don’t know much about the suspension but the upgrades I made to mine were well worth the money so I’d look into that. I’d not use plastic boxes, I think they’re too flimsy, especially on unmade roads which we’re planning to use. I’d go with bags and simply bungie them to the racks. Anyway, I’m keen to see what he does.
I find myself looking at the back of bikes now everywhere we go. My partner doesn’t speak English as a first language so sometimes the conversation is a little basic. Being surrounded by foreigners is making me feel even more isolated. I speak a little French but not enough to hold a worthwhile conversation. I find myself hoping to meet some English people, ideally with a bike so we can talk bollocks over a . Maybe that’s why I’m rambling so much in my blogs but hey.... you don’t have to read this crap...

Well we went into town for a wander. I feel like a proper tourist now. I tell you what, it was ok just wandering round snapping pics and mingling. Sunday is death in France. Everything is closed. I speak enough French to get by in a shop but somehow just couldn't get it today. I guess it was a regional accent, I couldn't get a word of it. That said, everyone was so nice about it. Last night we went for a pizza and a girl working there came over and told us in broken English she could help us with the menu. Tonight the waiter did the same. He caught me on the way to the toilet and showed me what things were in the kitchen to help me decide. Honestly, people out here could not be nicer. There were a few arsehole kids knocking about but if you look at them they smile and wander off sheepishly. All front, no real animosity anywhere. What a really lovely little town. So unlike England.
Once I had to go to Birmingham with my regional manager on a conference. We got a bit lost looking for the hotel and crossed in front of a car by accident. This big black car pulled up beside us and the window came down and a massive Indian looking guy leant out. We went into combat mode ready to give some abuse back and the guy just said, "Are you guys lost, can i help?" Such is life in London. We get shit all the time and we learn to expect it and be ready. It's a horrible way to be but it's life. I worked in Cash Converters for a while (those ends don't meet by themselves.) I managed the buying counter in a real scumtown. Fights every single day, usually constant. We were on first name terms with the local police we saw them all so often. I guess you just get so used to this kind of life you don't notice any more. Being out here where life is easy and there's nothing to prove is so refreshing.
We drove into town with no jackets, no gloves, no tube, nothing but our lids. I felt like a total criminal. Again, we just parked anywhere and no problems. Of course we showed due respect and so long as you do there's no problem. You don't cause one for them, they won't cause one for you. Far cry from London where you make a slight deviation from the hopelessly complicated and heavy-handed laws and you get an on-the-spot fine and a good telling-off.
Sorry to brits everywhere... this way is better by far. England is wrong, very wrong and the more I see of the world the more I think so. Travelling by bike obviously has it's own problems but I still prefer it to flying out or backpacking. I'm a biker first, i guess.
Not much else to report that will be relevant or vaguely interesting.
We're staying in an F1 hotel. It's clean but very, very basic. Cheap too, cheaper than a camp site, at least those I can find online. 30 euros and you get a room with a double bed with a bunk over the top. You get a sink but toilet and washrooms are seperate. The door has an entry code but the buttons are in a strange non-logical order. The same code lets you in the building or inside the locking front gate. It's fairly secure and has CCTV and an all night attendant. It is basic but it's decent enough. I would definitely recommend if the time is dragging on and you're tired. Even better if there's 3 of you although if you're biking you could get 2 more on the floors. Nobody cares.
Water pressure is a bit ferocious, the shower is like get pressure washed.
She's feeling better now, more like her old self so we're pushing on to the black forest. Once night in Lyon and then Mulhouse and onwards towards Poland... Hopefully.

Added info...

The bike saw 185 miles before the little yellow warning went on. I filled up at the French border, well she was filled up for me. The girl did a good job, it looked like and took both the main and front tank to the brim. There were som curly, curvy mountain roads, a 75mph blast for 40-50 miles, some getting lost in Toulouse, a gentle 65mph cruise for 60-70 miles today and the rest pottering about in town. That's over 2 days in 28-30 degree heat so some escaped and two up with heavy luggage. I'm impressed, the fuel capacity and economy is bang on. That's delivering a genuine 76.45mpg (uk) overall. I'm happy with that. at that rate the fuel is literally cheaper than the tolls.

Grin and bear it

Today was a test of endurance. over 9 hours in the saddle, well I call it a saddle but it's a device of torture after a day like this. I had it fitted with a gel-seat by a top bloke in the Kent countryside. Mr. Archer has a good reputation and is cheap. He works out of a shed but should by charging ten grand an hour telling BMW off for making crap chairs.
Anyway, the Gel seat made an instant improvement but not enough of one. My fault, we didn't really discuss my needs, I just said a few long trips and I wanted a gel seat. Chances are he would have told me I needed something else, I should have gone into more depth with him. Anyway, my fault and my sore arse.
I've felt it today, the pain is getting to us both and on top of that the bike is pissing me off. She's done nothing wrong and I'll be in love with her again soon but after a day like today I'm venting spite and she's getting blamed.
You see I'm a sportsbike rider. I love 2 strokes especially. I love the kick of power in you back, I love the blast of acceleration. I'm used to having 140+ BHP and the drag coefficient of a fully jacketed rifle bullet. My ideal bike would have a 200bhp engine and deliver 200mpg. Frankly I don't see why that's asking a lot.
Now I have 53. Actually around about 55-56 with my mods. Oooooo. Big improvement, worth every penny. The size of the bike is to small too, too small for me to carry this load with the extra ballast of a needy pillion. I've done todays trip with thoughts of what I would do different.

I love the Country. It's a great go anywhere, do anything bike with just enough of everything to make it work. The thing is I didn't buy it with this trip in mind and it's wearing thin now. I guess I should have bought a BMW boxer and cruised around happily and sold it at a profit when I get back. Anyway, I didn't.
On paper the R1200gs is the best bike for all my needs, rolled into one. In reality it's just not reliable. Maybe I should have gone to the 1150 or the 1100 but the performance figures were just too low against the weight when i was looking and I still had a different set of dynamics in my head. I don't test drive bikes. Waste of time. I buy them, ride them and make my mind up. You have to own a bike to know it, you can't get an impression any other way. I just didn't have the time or inclination to buy any more big boxers after my 1200 let me down (time and again).
I really wanted the 800 to be the one but it isn't. I was approached at Box-Hill by a Dakar rider who chatted with me and he said it was just too flimsy. Not what I wanted to hear but he was quite right. The bike is built to sell, not to work.

One time I had an Aprilia RSV Millie. I wanted a big V-twin and it was between this bike and a Suzuki SV1000. The SV had lost it's fairing in a shunt so the price was right but the seller was a dick. He messed me about so I went to see this Italian Millie knowing what to expect. Now Italian bikes are gorgeous to behold but flimsy and unreliable. The Millie is actually not a pretty bike. Somehow the styling is just bland and uninteresting compared to the visually stunning Dukatis. They do work though.
This one was not what I expected. I went with my brother and as the light went on we just stopped and stared. It was a thing of beauty. Repainted in a custom mixed glass black and it looked like a dark mirror had been melted on top of the fairing. It was just jaw-dropping. I bought it.
In fact it wasn't that quick so I had to derestrict it to make it fun but fun it was. THis was a great fun bike. A Lamborgini once had to pull over to let me pass on a motorway, this thing was an animal and I never got off of it without a grin on my face.
I bought a Sprint for daily use, the first ever Sprint RS with a certificate from Triumph. Sadly when i sold that it went to Poland to be broken for spares. Anyway, I stopped using the RSV. It was just too difficult when i could just jump on the Sprint and go without having to worry about thefts or damage.
In the end I thought they were just too alike. I bought an Aprilia Pegaso instead, a 95 in black (my favourite and the second of these I owned). I still never used the Millie. I walked out and just thought, no, I'll just use the Peg today.
I sold the Millie pretty soon after, just no point having it. It's probably dead now. The guy who bought it had never ridden a big bike before and was meant to come back for a load of expensive spares and was never heard from again.
The moral of this story is I want a faster bike but I know there's no point. The Country is the right bike and I'm griping over nothing. It was just a long-arse day and I have the hump with being lost and over-taken by solo-ridden sports bikes.

We've eaten and eaten to a mediocre standard. In France anything less than amazing is actually quite poor. We went to a pub/bar/bistro and the food was ok, not great. I ordered Caesar salad and it came with thousand island dressing. The service was top notch and everyone continues to be so friendly. A guy in the hotel even apologised for talking in front of me but he also tried bumming fags of my partner who, being Asian is terrified of unplanned human contact.
We're in Lyon now. It's a nothing special city, same as any other really but there's still a uniquely French flavour to it and by that I mean than just confusing road signs.
We had a long trip today. We started out with hassles straight off the bat with an empty tank. I didn't worry last night, I hold about 50-60 miles in reserve and the petrol station was right next door. Unfortunately this morning it was closed. We tried finding another but no luck. We drove round for ages until we found one and then got back tot he main road to find a cheaper, better one only 100 yards from where we started.
My GPS luckily advised me it could help me out so I pressed the icon to be told that to get petrol i simply had to turn around and travel 500 miles in the opposite direction. Nice one Garmin. Money well spent.
So we finally got ont he road and to be fair, navigation was simple enough. We took the scenic route which at first was a bit on the dull side. It reminded me of my first few days riding solo when i had wished she was here to see the lovely French countryside and now she was so that was nice. She's a country girl (she farts in public) and she appreciated the spectacle. Suddenly it broke into mountains and the scenery went from nice to amazing. This is a really beautiful country but the road design is poor... whenever you see something amazing there's nowhere to stop and photograph it.
This went on... and on.... and on. Bum-breaks got more frequent and the trip just seemed to get longer and longer. The GPS just kept slipping back and back and we had to stop several times to check maps because the signs don't always make sense and nothing agrees with each other.
In the end I just wanted a motorway so we could get to the hotel, eat and sleep. Getting there was a real challenge and I was just too tired. It's a lot harder with a pillion, always trying to justify yourself and the constant nagging responsibility. It's so much easier on your own.
Anyway... we finally made it and I was berating the bike for not being faster because by the end I just wanted to make up time and we can't. We can do 70mph before the vibrations kick in and I had in mind something around roughly double that.
Of course the fact is that anything over 70mph on foreign, unfamiliar roads when you're tired is stupid and dangerous and after calming down I'm glad the bike is limiting me really. The vibes don't normally kick in until around 85 which is the quickest I've been on her. My Pegaso 660 I saw 110, my old Peg cube about 120 and that bike got there pretty fast too.
Anyway, we went into town for some food without the luggage and what a relief that was to rider her normally. It's just the weight.
On top of everything there's a knock in the front steering bearings. It was ok before but I guess the weight and the miles are adding up. It will need changing when i get home and from the feel of it will be fine for now. I'm not overly concerned. My front brake pads are low as well but again, I'm not worried. I'll look for some as I go around. I swapped them out in my living room last time in about 10 minutes. Very straight forward job but might be more difficult now my tool kit is spread around the motorway outside of Milan.

So what's been on my mind today? Well I've been wondering if this is the right bike. Practically it is but is it the right bike for me? I'm a big guy and the bike is small. I'm down to 16.5stone now but was 19 a few years ago when i was overdoing the gym a bit. Because of that I'm also top heavy, even now. I like plenty of power and I'm a big fan of carbs. I always go back to singles but unlike some people I don't think they're the key to life. I reckon the mighty V-twin is the best configuration but it's not an economical setup and that's something I want. Parallel twins or split singles are just a modern way to soak up vibrations, a way to sanitize the engine. Ok, some modern P-twins put out impressive figures but what would modern singles be doing now if the bike companies had continued developing those a bit harder? Modern 400s are now showing impressive performances because they're a racing class. P-twins seem a bit pedestrian because they're not used in competition. Either way, they're not really my cup of tea. Having said that if I was looking for a basis of a great all-round adventure bike I'd look twice at the early 850 TDM. The frame was ok and the engine was good. I reckon with a completely new set of suspension and a style upgrade there might be some potential there. I had one though and the exhausts dragged on speedbumps, it wasn't very reliable and it only managed 125mph.
Maybe the V-strom. Now the performance figures of the 1000 are very appealing, especially with the potential to easily ring more power out of them but the economy is laughable and they're really too heavy for any enduro work. The 650 is good but I feel it's too aimed at touring. Absolutely nothing wrong with that but I'm looking for something else.
The Kawasaki Versys has a good engine but it doesn't speak to me.
I guess the modern world of bikes is just not for me. My opinion is that nobody builds something you can just get on and ride any more. I mean KTMs you can't ride at all without extensive modifications and they still have engine management issues. Having said that I love the Super Duke (in principal) but that's another story. I doubt there's a single biker anywhere who doesn't want a KTM if only they worked properly.
Modern bikes are built to sell. That's a simple fact. The worst example of this was the Triumph Tiger who originally in 95 had off-road pretensions but a lousy engine (I had one. Fantastic to ride but just so unreliable.) Then the pretensions melted away as Triumph caught on to the fact that people were never using them off-road so they just become a toy for showing up at the coffee shop. I'm keen to see what happens with the new Mini-Tiger. It's over-styled and that's never a good thing and apparently it's having engine management problems straight off. Nothing new there (I love Trumpets, I've had 5 or 6 or 7 of them but they're not good.) On that issue though, I thought about a Triumph Scrambler. How cool would that be?
Anyway.
Maybe an older bike. Africa twin, Tenere, XT, DR. I like the DR Big, I like it a lot. I don't know much about them other than they're big and qualified to perform medicine. It's got a big engine and lots of potential. With modern shocks and forks and some not-too-far tuning I reckon this would be a beast. My brother had one but sadly backed out of making it something special. That was a project I really wanted to see.
BMW Boxers are not reliable, I mean the engines are great but the electronics let them down. Don't get me wrong, I'm not technophobic. CDI was a huge leap forward from points and I think BMW were on the money with the Canbus and it's a shame it's not catching on. I hear people moaning about it but instances of Canbus failures are very few whereas wiring looms are a pig to work with. I believe in good technology, not ways to make things cheaper to produce or more appealing in the short term. A good example of what I mean is modern headlight design. Round headlights gave way to shaped and styled units but those units date very fast and have no real benefit over round ones. BMW Gs headlights have the best setup you can imagine but somehow the light from them is appalling. It's bad technology where the advancement only benefit the company producing the bike.
So in other words.... All I managed to think about today was bikes I didn't want. Nothing else ticks all of those boxes. Reliable, durable, economical, versatile, enduro-capable, adaptable, good handling, good acceleration, light through traffic and off tarmac, cheap to buy and support (parts, etc). A lot of bikes fill those criteria. I mean you could argue that a V-strom would but the trade off is less economy and more weight in exchange for more power to cruise. Well cruising is not my cup'o'tea.
Traveling to me is a means to an end and the means is the end. Riding long distance in a straight line is the wrong end. Tough to explain that one.
Anyhow... All bikes are compromise. You compromise on quality, against cost, power against economy, etc, etc. The G650 is a good set of compromises and I can't see a way to improve on it without building a bike from the ground up. When I get settled somewhere then maybe I will do just that. Till then... I will stick to what i have and have a sore bum..

More rambling...

I'm tired but I can't sleep. My brain won't turn off. I am a lousy navigator because I just don't care. I have a good sense of direction but can never lock down reference points to make judgments from. When I can't find something I get stressed and then I don't sleep, so here I am.
Other observations from the road. French drivers aren't as bad as people say. Most are quite courteous but a few are just overtaking monsters who have to get in front of you even if it kills them. They'll overtake anywhere.
We had a chav-scum green Golf behind us today. Over-tuned and really played with. They'd made such a mess of it that it didn't even run. He was sat behind us at some lights revving the engine. I mean we're loaded with gear, do we look like we want to play? Then he just hung back so I figured I had to have been wrong about him. I kept my eye on him just in case. He overtook us on a roundabout, nearly lost control as he did. Then he got in front just in time for the lights and couldn't pull away, his car splutteing for life and stinking of unburnt fuel. Finally he got away, lurched all over the road and chased a 4X4 up the road. Little man with something to prove but he's the only one we've seen so far. In the UK, these pricks are everywhere.
There are a lot of bikes out here and a very high number of BMWs. Most wave and are very friendly, even come up to chat. There are some well used bikes but most are brand new. Oddly the newest, cleanest and shiniest bikes are ridden by people with the worst gear. People wear gear I wouldn't look twice at back home, really bad budget brands. The nicest lid you see is a Caberg. I'm not knocking them, they're plenty good enough for a 650 single but back home a GS rider wears a high quality level of gear and if they'll talk to you they want to make sure you know it. maybe it's just that the weather is so predictable. I don't know.

Hmmmm, a DR big.

My mind is racing over this one. I love the Wilbers shock on mine, it's a great upgrade. It would need front shocks too as the original ones are just awful. The brakes are a bit weak too so they'd need replacing. My guess is there's a common mod for this, a whole front end transplant from something else that won't break the bank. The tail and headlight need replacing. They're the only things that date this bike, otherwise the styling is still great today. I'm thinking along the lines of a Buell style headlight arrangement and taller screen, replace clocks with a new, up to date dash, etc. Engine bars and a better Bash plate... probably custom made as I doubt there are many upgrades about for these. Better find a good welder.
New exhaust is a must, save enough weight to cover the cost of engine guards and match them with filters and maybe a new set of carbs. I assume there's a kit somewhere for these. I'd be surprised if there isn't. Any more tuning than that would probably be too much. New handle bars, LED indicators and tail light and probably the same bags I have now. All finished in black and grey with HID spots and ultra-bright LED rear fogs an enduro tail and as much crap stripped away as possible but I doubt there's much. I bet it could easily go to 65bhp with a corresponding torque increase in the same range.
The brain is ticking....
You'd have to sink another 3-4 grand into it, more like 5 once you've got it painted. I can handle matt myself but gloss might be better.
.... I know where there's a good one going....

Do it... you know you want it.... DR BIG.......... MMMMMMMMMMMM

**** you, Garmin

The old problem kicked back today. Navigation. I knew it was going to be a bad one and I warned her that i thought so. Google maps couldn't plot me a route and I had precious little to go on. The guy at the F1 hotel said it was no problem, maybe 2 hours although google said 4. I liked his optomism. We stayed and chatted for nearly an hour, nice guy, great English and seemed to know his shit. You get a certain arrogance when you speak English, the fact is most people speak some so you really don't need to bother with other languages but hearing others do it is impressive, especially as my own ability with them is so rudimentary.
Anyway, we followed his route, which disagreed with the other three methods, ie, signs, google and GPS but then they all disagreed with each other too and he steered us right last night.
We ended up at an impass where the same road went in both directions to places I hadn't plotted on my notes. We stopped to check the map on the motorway at an SOS phone point behind a truck with a sleeping driver. Then a crapped out car pulled in behind us with what I thought was a flat tyre. It was actually more blown than a rich drunk kid in a brothel and had taken half the wing with it. Maybe... the whole car was so knackered it was hard to tell. I tried to help him out but as he opened the door the panel dropped off and the speakers fell out. His boot had the random clutter of several lifetimes but no jacks of wrenches. He asked if I had one.... errr....
So we got directions off him and we left him to kick the shambolic remains of his "car" to crap while we headed out. We got onto some kind of main road and stopped to fill up and check we were heading right. A Swiss couple this time, a pair of bikers. They didn't know but that wasn't good enough. They took my map and stomped off into the crowd demanding answers. Never have I seen such helpful people or such a fearful crowd. They told me the story of the day... I was going right. I left and we headed after the signs that I had been assured lead the way to Mulhouse. Of course we followed and it still didn't feel right. The satnav was moaning and I was heading miles off course. I stopped and checked a map. I only had to come off at the next juntion and all wold be well. I confirmed this while chatting with a rider on a 1150 gs (how my sore arse envied his cushion on wheels that wafted along on a sea of mechanical luxury). He told me I was in a completely different town and illustrated it by pointing at a map he was holding upside down. I thanked him anyway. We left by the next exit and sure enough the road signs lead us god-only-knows where. All this time the road numbers never got close to what they were meant to be but we were following signs to Mulhouse the whole time. Now my GS was saying we were off course and getting worse all the time. Signs came up showing left and rights and towns meant to be on the same line in totally different directions. All I can assume is we were following signs off the country lanes to a main road but we lost around 2 hours and added 100 miles to the journey. We stopped for lunch today but nobody had any food left. I parked next to a UK bike in a nowhere town. I was quite excited but he turned out to be French and I felt cheated out of a conversation and sulked for the next few minutes. We eventually found a village where i warned her was the last chance for food, we were making lousy time and virtually lost and it was time to stop being fussy. A woman followed us out and said they had no food but could make us sandwiches. We had that. They were big enough to choke a rhino and the bread had the consistency of granite, it was honestly like chewing a delicious kind of rock.
We headed off to more getting lost before a last map check which promised to drop us off on the A-road we should have been riding on for the last few hours. Then my guts played up. I can usually eat dog-shit without any trouble but I thought it best to get whatever was in there out with the minimum fuss. We got on the main road and stopped at an Aire. The toilet was a traditional hole in the floor but nature had to have its way and the deed was done.
I can't see how a cheese sandwich did that but something was not right. My other half had ham but she was fine and she's a delicate little flower.
We headed off into the wild blue yonder with untold miles to make up. I cracked on and made a solidly unpleasant pace around 70-75, even cracking 85 at one point although the bike was unpleasant to be on.
Eventually we made it, exhausted to Mulhouse. We looked around and my initial impressions were, what a shit-hole. It's very different to othetr French towns being a border town. There was considerable ethnic diversity which was unusual. There was also pawn-brokers, Cash-converters, high visiblity police, etc. All the trappings of poverty and the town had a very unpleasant vibe. We got directions twice that both led to different places and eventually just stopped in another hotel and asked. Apparently we were in the wrong town. Thanks for that, Google. We headed off and got more directions. Well one guy said he knew and then went off to buy Ice-cream so who knows what happened there. A woman was nice enough to phone her husband and ask and gave us some wrong directions. Luckily they were almost right enough that we muddled through.
The place was full of Polish lorry drivers so I got a chance to have a with the people that had been trying to kill me all day on the A43.
Beer makes Jack better.
Fed up with navigation. I feel like it's all my fault but not really sure what to do for the best. I phoned the hotel, he said turn left but I hadn't told his where I was yet. I asked a Turkish man in a kebab shop if he spoke English. He said, "Nein!". That's not even French.
Anyway, the hotel is crap, F1s are cheap but honestly I'd rather camp. They're just not worth the hassle.
But the nice thing about this one is an Italian GS1150 outside in the car park. This thing is mint... I mean mint. Lovely colours too with nice modifications. This is a truly gorgeous machine.
Also I had plenty of time to think. Want to know what I was thinking.... Read next...

Do I? I probably do but it's hardly a practical thing when everything I currently own fits in a bag.

So I thought mostly about why I was travelling. Now this is not to say that doing so is not a suitable end in itself and even when you're facing the misery of battling road-signs or any host of other irritations it's still fun. When you travel long distances you tend to have time to think. This is what I think about. I find it useful to have the distraction of the road to worry about, it keeps “that” part of my mind busy and allows a freedom to think that you otherwise don’t often enjoy.
So... Philosophy now... please read around....


Anyway.


The cage. Part 1

The reason I'm doing this is to understand more about myself and the human race in general. Charles Darwin postulated the theory of evolution based on his observation of political interaction which he later withdrew. One of the most interesting observations of us when he suggested that Humans do not behave as a wild animal gone tame but as a wholly domesticated creature. Now that’s an interesting observation and I believe an entirely correct one. It does however open more questions than it seeks to answer.
I believe we are every bit as trapped as a chicken in a battery farm. Now the chicken is an unconscious, experience-response organism, a fairly crude brain and is almost entirely instinct driven. That means it’s motivated towards equilibrium of its biological needs. Entrapment causes frustration and discomfort but anything not causing damage will be neddfully tolerated as struggling is wasting energy and risking injury, both of which are instinctively programmed in as negative. Now a chicken born into a cage or put in at a sufficiently young age will simply perceive this as an environment. It won’t hate the loss of freedom, it will experience the environment from the perspective of continued survival. It accepts it because without a conscious aptitude it is incapable of abstractions and even imagination. It cannot conceptualise freedom it has never had.
A mouse crawling through a modern building will similarly not perceive the fact that it’s walking around on an artificial structure designed to accommodate another being by techniques it cannot begin to comprehend. It will instead consider the surroundings as its environment and will decide on their worthiness by their ability to satisfy its bodily needs as driven by its instinctive programming. In other words, will there be food?
Humans are different by an order of magnitude. We have consciousness. This strange and unscientific thing cannot be measured or proved and yet the human ability to think about this statement is proof of its existence.
A very smart man once said to me that “meat cannot think.” This is true, the human brain varies only slightly in real terms from any other creature of the same physical dimensions and yet Humans work in a totally unprecedented way. Consciousness sets us apart from all other creatures on the planet which is an astounding feat if you consider the mind-boggling array of life here. This is a kind of quantum leap you’d expect between a germ and a rat. It would be like putting hands on a snake. We are totally separate from anything else due to this simple ability to wonder. It’s not even like our brains do it. Humans are a cluttered, jumble of impulses, some randomly firing so that in our voices we can head objectionable suggestions from within our own minds. We are intelligent creatures with a functioning brain, a computer the likes of which modern technology can only dream about producing and we’re also conscious. It’s like the two are working together, side by side and not always in agreement. If you consider the simplicity of the Human body which still has many mysteries then how can we ever hop to understand the mind? We’re barely beginning to scratch the surface and yet we’ve not even begin with the mysterious soul so often spoke about but so rarely attempted to explain. If the mind is more complex than the body by an order of magnitude then consciousness is likely to be more confusing still.
So this chicken is caged and yet cannot conceive of his entrapment. She is a prisoner of this environment and her restrain serves the needs of another creature, again which she has no concept of. She views it as a larger animal , nothing more. She has no concisions faculty of her own so no way to project that faculty onto another creature, she has no frame of reference and no ability to use it if she had.
What if Humans are in the same cage? A chicken is little more than a body with a sophisticated computer in it to continue its survival with a pre-programmed set of instructions. The body is of use to us. Humans can, to a degree ingest it and it lays eggs which are also edible. That is the limit of our interest for the most part.
Now a human has no natural predators. We are relatively free to move around the planet within the confines of our technological progress, ie we are stuck on this rock until we figure that out. Our brains are reasonably uninspiring. The fact is almost all of our mental abilities can be emulated and bettered by a piece of technology in some way. Try working out a square root faster than a calculator and you’ll see what I mean. Try viewing a scene from a movie you just saw in your mind and then watch it back on a DVD. Technology tends to be aimed at building on the weaknesses of our brains although they’re not weaknesses at all but rather the poor communication between the two human elements functioning together. Very little technology goes into emotional thinking replacement. Your brakes might have electronic ABS but they’ll never love you for it.
Our cage is just as invisible to us as it is to a confined bird. It’s just as frustrating, just as annoying and we test it, bite against it but ultimately we accept it. It doesn’t threaten our survival and we’re used to it. We don’t even know it’s there because it’s a part of our perception.
If a creature was of the next level of magnitude up from us how would we see it? We are only conscious, we don’t have the ability of this being so we cannot perceive what this ability might be and we’re also unable to project this ability onto our perception. If we see an injured animal we can sympathise. It’s something we understand but the next level up from us, we’re completely incapable of perceiving it. If confronted by it we’d interpret it in a way that makes sense to us just as a caged chicken interprets a human farmer as a bigger animal. We may see it as an alien, a god or a loaf of bread with a really interesting thing written on the wrapper. We may see it as a rock, or a whale.... or a planet.
So the cage is around us but it doesn’t appear to hamper our movements significantly. That poor chicken can’t stand up. We can get in a car and drive to the coast. The restriction placed upon us is a different one and does not significantly impede our physical movement and we’re so used to it that like the chicken, we don’t even know it’s there. We don’t know that there’s any other way to exist since this is our current condition and for most of us the thought never occurred that there’s anything wrong with the world. The battery animal is provided for. It’s fed and its waste is managed, it’s survival is, to a degree in the interest of the jailor so it’s maintained within the confines of the convenience of the higher creature. Just like that we are maintained and we accept the frustrations of our condition because our survival continues. In fact we can do slightly better than that, we can flourish although doing so is extremely rare. Our physical needs are met through one means or another but in the developed world where the population is somewhat balanced then it’s exceedingly rare to see someone starve to death, even someone who refutes societal norms absolutely. The frustration the entrapped animal feels is one of instinctive drive to search out food and keep itself clean enough to avoid the worst infection. Even a basic animal is driven to explore its surroundings as doing so is a better guarantee of survival, that drive is completely frustrated by an animal confined in a modern farming environment. The animal will survive but not being able to finction as it’s instinctively biased to do will negatively impact on its wellbeing, just as it does with all creatures, including Humans. We’ve all known, to some degree the negative emotional impact of denial of basic instinctual urges. Every fat person will know the difficulty of rejecting food they know is not healthy when habitual behaviour has identified itself with the survival instinct. What about the adrenaline rush of dangerous sports, the near physical push againt you as you approach something you have unconsciously identified as dangerous enough to pose some threat to your survival. Pushing against that instinct is extremely difficult but there are others we push against every day. The urge to procreate is the one we manage most carefully on a daily basis which was why it was convenient for Sigmund Freud to study it.
We all know the difficulty of denying an urge from a deep place in our minds and yet a farmed animal must do this daily as part of its existence. So must we as socialised humans, we daily fight against our urge for more space, territory, time, increased wealth and status and yet this is now accepted as a normal part of society, it’s simply mainstream existence for the overwhelming majority of those living in the modern world.
Just like a caged animal who doesn’t appreciate the nature or circumstances of its incarceration we are entrapped in our confined existence and have little concept of the true reasons behind it because those reasons serve a power that exists on the next level beyond human consciousness, a level we are in capable of conceptualising.
So then travelling is another step towards identifying this cage. Just like a bird can flap its wings and feel the edges of it confinement I’m spreading out to feel the edges of mine. Obviously mine is not a wire mesh holding back my arms and legs, mine is one of a conceptual barrier. I’m a Human prison of a trap made out of my own humanity.
Chickens escape all the time although they have no deliberate inclination to do so. It happens, doors locks fail or they escape during handling. It happens every day and it happens on an accidental level too with humans. We just have to learn to be aware of it. Does a raving psychotic actually have an ability to walk outside the cage, do hallucinogenic drugs actually show us a glimpse of freedom? For a chicken a cage is a literal box. For a pet the cage is more sinister. A cat or dog is trapped by its own instinctive behaviour towards survival to bond with its captors. A dog especially exchanges the unwanted elements of instinctive pack programming for the ones we find more acceptable in exchange for food and shelter. When a dog reverts to the basic roots of its programming and bites a human or goes wild, we have it executed. The trap for the dog is a kinder place than the fate of the farmed animal but anything that modifies natural behaviour and frustrates basic drives is a cage of some sort.
It’s quite possible that Human consciousness is in itself a trap, a confinement of some sort, a tether to a pattern of thinking and a way to limit us. That thing that sets us apart is often the thing that’s useful to exploit just like chickens end up in boxes because their eggs taste good.


So that was my on-the-road musings for the other day. I’ve got lots more so see how much more time I get between navigational disasters.

Shattered. Just shattered. It’s after midnight now and I’ rapidly losing the will to live. In Berlin and there’s a storm kicking the shit out of the city. Lightning is rattling the windows but at least nobody steals bikes in the rain.
It all started this morning...


The alarm went off at 8 so we could pack and vacate comfortably by 10. Actually we comfortably were on the road by 9.30 with a fairly decent breakfast inside us and a warm effervescent glow of optimism that todays travelling looked pretty straight forward. I plotted the map and it was an easy ride to the A4 into Berlin. Simple. I was tired though. It was so hot last night I barely slept a wink
So with some fuss we found signs to the A4 by following the pointer to the correct direction. We knew it would be ok because Wrosclaw is surrounded by a ring road so you simply follow the arrow and join the next main road. So we found it easily enough, a few false starts, as always and in the end we found a roundabout with signs point to A4 Germany. So we joined and followed along. Then we hit traffic... bad traffic. We filtered as fast as we could but the weight was not conducive to sliding down the inside of moving trucks with any confidence. IN the end we got to the front to find roadworks blocking the way. We filtered through and I got a bit concerned that we were now heading back into town. We turned round and reversed, still no alternate sign to the A4. In the end we agreed I had to take a best guess and follow a road leading the right way. I found one to a town on the edge of Poland in more or less the right direction. We had some Zloty left so we figured we’d stop there for lunch. NO big deal.
We followed along but it was tough going. It started to rain but just a passing shower, in our direction at least. The skies were black and threatening behind us but we were heading into warmer climates. In fact it got a lot warmer. 24 became 26 and climbed up to 34 before it was through. We finally made it through the back routes to the little town where every sign to the centre pointed in a different direction. We eventually gave up and stopped at a cafe outside the station. Food was good and cheap and we finished off our Zloty with plenty of fuel and only 20-30km to the border.
We had a couple of Polish guys come over to say hello. One was from London and they tried to help us plan out our next route to Berlin. The first agreed my way was easiest, the other thought a direct ride into Cottbus would be quicker. We opted for easier and head off. Again, no signposts anywhere so we followed on to our arrow on the GPS. Eventually we were taken to a roundabout off back to Poznan, down to Cottbus or straight on so we went straight on. We carried on through a little village and by now the roads were getting narrow. They got narrow, broke up into dirt tracks and in the end we were riding through dirt in the woods. Luckily My other half has been trained in this, we go green-laning back home 2 up to prepare her for any eventuality and this was just such an event. It was great fun but the bike was just too overloaded to carry on. There was no guarantee the trail went anywhere in any case so we limped back to the village. Now I was starting to worry. We were off our maps and had only enough fuel to cross the border with no spare money and nothing with an exchange centre in it. We went all the way back, another 8 km and then stopped at the roundabout. We decided to go to Cottbus through lack of a choice but would look out for a crossing earlier on. No chance, 45 miles to Cottbus and the motorway. We had no choice so off we went.
We hit something. It was black, the same as the road and I was so tired I just didn’t see it. I hit it square and it was about the size of a brick. I slowed down and found somewhere to stop. You can’t just stop by the side of the road in Poland. Someone will just drive into you.
There was no damage to the wheels, no play in the bearings. All seemed fine so we rested up for a few minutes next to a wood. We cleared our stuff out when a snake came to see what we were up to but by now I was past caring and just hoped the venom worked quickly and was deadly to humans. We ran out of water at this point and the low sun was directly in my eyes and my helmet was an easy-bake oven and my boots were soaked with sweat. I was dehydrating fast, my mouth was dry, I was getting a headache and things were swimming in my vision. I was having trouble concentrating to I put on some music to help me focus. It’s always hilarious when you stop and some guy says to you how unbearably hot it is while wearing a T-shirt and you’re dressed in full bike armour and just putting a plastic tub on your head full of insulating foam.
We braved onwards and onwards while every deathwish driver in Poland tried to commit suicide and take us with them. I lost count of how many times I had to switch on full beams and ride into the roadside gutter to let a complete retard by on my side of the road after he tried to overtake without the space or power to do so. Honestly, how people survive this country is beyond me.
So we finally came off the country roads to follow signs into Germany. We crossed on an old cold-war installation which is now an empty pile of shacks. It was quite poignant really. We then saw signs to Cottbus and the motorway but it was yet another 25 miles. We carried on. By the time we got to Cottbus the motorway signs had ended and we got led into the centre. We got some water, which helped a bt and a woman came up to chat. She said the way out was too complicated so we had to follow her. We did that, we suited up quick and followed her out of the city. By now it was 34 degrees and the traffic lights were all against us, the bike was red hot and was draining the last of our energy with it. Finally we got to the motorway, blown away by the constant kindness of strangers we’ve encountered on this trip. Everyone we’ve asked has just wanted to help.
So we quickly stopped for the water and snacks she had bought and I reviewed the fuel situation. Not good. The forward tank was drained and the main was just over reserve and we’d clocked 180 miles with no idea when we’d see fuel. We carried on and clicked up 196.2 just as the reserve light lit up and just as we saw a fuel station sign 5km in the distance. Saved!
So we made the last dash to Berlin. We looked for the 13, 113 and then 100. No idea what they were but they turned out to be road numbers and following them was easy. According to the map the 100 led right to the hostel. Well it didn’t. Berlin is vast... just vast. I pulled off in the end at random to be told we were only a few miles out. We followed the guys excellent directions and they lead us a few miles from the Hostel. We then spent 3 hours following directions of people who wanted to help but were too proud to say they didn’t know. We hit the opposite problem, I asked one guy who should have known because the road the Hostel was on was directly at one end of the road he lived on. He sent us in the wrong direction but came running out to correct himself. In the end we just found it. Just after 10pm and the gates were locked but they let us in regardless.
Worst hostel ever! It’s got beds out of a prison and is filthy and staffed by idiots. I will read the reviews more carefully next time but none of the pictures match any of the rooms.
We went out for some food and a storm hit so i guess it could always be worse. Tomorrow we’re still in Berlin but in a 4 star hotel we got a cancellation with so we’re paying the same as this crap Hostel. Result!
I’m now shattered so I’m going to sleep in my prison-issue bed with no sheets as they were extra... I have sleeping bags and it’s too hot for them anyway.