60 in Africa (London to Ghana)
- Thread starter Davey Bee
- Start date
Got the picture, just looking for the tee shirts.Ride it like you stole it
Well I've done the grand total of 20 kilometres today and half of that was U turns. I stayed an extra day in Huelva, to give my gear time to dry out. It's buggered my intention to cross to Morocco over the weekend. To be honest I couldn't get out Huelva fast enough. It's a cold spirited place.
My reason for going there, was that it's the closest town to Palos de la Frontera, which on maps is a one horse town or more likely a small village. But this is where Christopher Columbus sailed from when he left for what would be known as The Americas.
Anyway I'd decided to go to Seville today, but of course go to Palos first.
One thing I fully expect is that this trip will challenge a lot of my preconceived views and today it has. As I said, I expected Palos to be a worn out port village, that's best days were over 400 years ago, how wrong could I be? It's a really beautiful little town. There are only 2 hotels as far as I know, so I thought if any of them are decent I'll stay. The first one I looked at was a little 2star, which again I didn't hold out much hope for, but again I was wrong, (this is a bit like being at home....I'm always wrong). So this we're I'm staying tonight, just like the man all those years ago, that unknowingly would, by his actions, change my family's destiny.
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My reason for going there, was that it's the closest town to Palos de la Frontera, which on maps is a one horse town or more likely a small village. But this is where Christopher Columbus sailed from when he left for what would be known as The Americas.
Anyway I'd decided to go to Seville today, but of course go to Palos first.
One thing I fully expect is that this trip will challenge a lot of my preconceived views and today it has. As I said, I expected Palos to be a worn out port village, that's best days were over 400 years ago, how wrong could I be? It's a really beautiful little town. There are only 2 hotels as far as I know, so I thought if any of them are decent I'll stay. The first one I looked at was a little 2star, which again I didn't hold out much hope for, but again I was wrong, (this is a bit like being at home....I'm always wrong). So this we're I'm staying tonight, just like the man all those years ago, that unknowingly would, by his actions, change my family's destiny.
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Great report. It rained all through Spain on my way back from the Gambia 2 years ago, so thìs took me back. Good thought on early starts in the Sahara, both to have time to deal with any problems but also to have time to ride slowly and take it all in. Will be with you in spirit...
Thanks , I was with you in spirit on Thursday afternoon, well that's a nice way of putting it! You were one of the people I blamed for encouraging me.
Joking aside, your excellent blog was a real inspiration, and helped give me the confidence to do this and in spite of my moaning, I'm really loving every minute of it. I'm chomping at the bit to get into Africa. Looks like it'll be Tuesday when I go across.
I need to find a set of TKC 80's in Seville tomorrow. Also would be a good idea to do a bit on laundry, before I move on.
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Davy, yes, crossing in to Africa is special, just be aware it can get under your skin, particularly crossing the Sahara. No ride since has felt the same. Am thinking of heading back that way later this year, maybe to Ghana too, so will be following you with interest.
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Oh dear, what do I tell the wife? She thinks it's a one off trip.
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merlings1200
Registered user
This bike never let me down apart from the fuel pump relay easy to change just under the seat worth getting a spare relay before you leave Europe , have a safe trip Dave
Mark
Thanks Mark, I've learnt to love it. It's much more of a "real" adventure bike than my GSA. The way that you spec'ed the bike originally, was perfect for my needs. I only needed to have Tony Archer work is magic on the seat, which is now all day comfortable. I've fitted a centre stand, a Scotoiler, a couple of driving lights and some Ardcase panniers. When I get back I'll change the exhaust for something quieter.
This was taken last night, just before I was kidnapped by an Irish gang.
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The following report was done before I went out to find something to eat last night , when I was kidnapped by an Irish gang. Once I get over the ordeal, I'll try and tell you about it.
I got to Sevilla, (to give it it’s Spanish spelling) yesterday without too much fuss. Having had great success on Saturday night with a cheap 2 star hotel, I thought I’d chance it again. I don’t know if I’m getting better at choosing inexpensive hotels or they are just a better quality down here, but again there’s nothing to complain about with this one. It’s clean, and while obviously old, (hundreds of years old), it’s not falling apart. For some reason I’m not in the mood for sight seeing, instead I’m just taking in the ambience of the place. I’m in the old town, so as you’d expect it’s unusual. This is Europe before Donald Trump the 1st, (aka Adolf) f@@ked it up.
Anyway, fortunately the world still has some fantastic people in it and I’ve been lucky enough to meet a few of them over the last 24 hours. The first was an Irish couple, (well he’s English of Irish parents, that was in the forces and based in Selly Oak. I didn’t asked what he did there, didn’t need too, as thats the hospital where the injured troops are repatriated. He wanted a complete change, and moved to Ireland, to become a pig farmer. Any how he regaled me with the story of he and is father, doing the poor mans Dakar, from Dublin to Gambia, in a Renault 4 10 years ago. No ordinary Renault 4 mind you, but £150, former chicken shed. As part of the deal, they had to buy the farmer the materials to build a new chicken shed. 2x4, chicken wire and the like. We spent a great hour or so, just chewing the fat.
This morning while checking out the motorcycle shops, for new tyres, I called into a cafe for a juice, and got chatting to another Irish lad, who lives here, earns a living teaching conversational English. He told me the tale of riding his push bike along the river last year, on his way to do some mountain biking for the day, when a local angler casing his fishing line, caught his bike and took him out, breaking both of his arms. As we agreed you just never know.
As I said, there are fantastic people through out the world. I found a laundrette to sort out my dirty clothes. Put my washing in and went off to a nearby bar to get something to eat. It became obvious, that the waiter preferred not to have my kind in there, (it happens, more often than you’d think), but hey, I’d started so I’ll finish and there’ll be no tip, other than “be nice to all your customers.” Any how he’s already had too much air time. I went back to put my washing in the dryer, and got chatting to a lovely young lady from San Fransisco, she and her partner are traveling Western Europe. She worked for a German woman in San Fransisco, parting out motor bikes and selling the parts online. She has a bike licence, hopefully one day she’ll use it to see some more of the world. She’s Iranian by birth, so as you’d imagine, she’s not confident of the future of her and her family living in the “States” with things as they are at the moment.
Speaking of not being happy, I had a great plan that I’d get the last bit out of my tyres by leaving it until I got down here to change them. Me and my great plans. What I hadn’t considered, was my not knowing where the bike shops are, my not being able to explain myself in Spanish, when I called the shops and the fact that the shops may have to order the tyres that I wanted to fit. Anyway I ended up asking the hotel receptionist to speak to a shop that can get them, but they were unsure if I’d get them in the morning or later tomorrow. I’d hoped to sail to Morocco tomorrow afternoon, I’ve now had to move that plan until Wednesday. If for any reason that they don’t turn up, then I’ve found a KTM dealer that have some duel sport Maxxis, but I’d prefer to stick with TKC80 that I’m using at the moment, while they’re not perfect, I know what to expect from them, while I’m traveling in yet unknown countries.
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I got to Sevilla, (to give it it’s Spanish spelling) yesterday without too much fuss. Having had great success on Saturday night with a cheap 2 star hotel, I thought I’d chance it again. I don’t know if I’m getting better at choosing inexpensive hotels or they are just a better quality down here, but again there’s nothing to complain about with this one. It’s clean, and while obviously old, (hundreds of years old), it’s not falling apart. For some reason I’m not in the mood for sight seeing, instead I’m just taking in the ambience of the place. I’m in the old town, so as you’d expect it’s unusual. This is Europe before Donald Trump the 1st, (aka Adolf) f@@ked it up.
Anyway, fortunately the world still has some fantastic people in it and I’ve been lucky enough to meet a few of them over the last 24 hours. The first was an Irish couple, (well he’s English of Irish parents, that was in the forces and based in Selly Oak. I didn’t asked what he did there, didn’t need too, as thats the hospital where the injured troops are repatriated. He wanted a complete change, and moved to Ireland, to become a pig farmer. Any how he regaled me with the story of he and is father, doing the poor mans Dakar, from Dublin to Gambia, in a Renault 4 10 years ago. No ordinary Renault 4 mind you, but £150, former chicken shed. As part of the deal, they had to buy the farmer the materials to build a new chicken shed. 2x4, chicken wire and the like. We spent a great hour or so, just chewing the fat.
This morning while checking out the motorcycle shops, for new tyres, I called into a cafe for a juice, and got chatting to another Irish lad, who lives here, earns a living teaching conversational English. He told me the tale of riding his push bike along the river last year, on his way to do some mountain biking for the day, when a local angler casing his fishing line, caught his bike and took him out, breaking both of his arms. As we agreed you just never know.
As I said, there are fantastic people through out the world. I found a laundrette to sort out my dirty clothes. Put my washing in and went off to a nearby bar to get something to eat. It became obvious, that the waiter preferred not to have my kind in there, (it happens, more often than you’d think), but hey, I’d started so I’ll finish and there’ll be no tip, other than “be nice to all your customers.” Any how he’s already had too much air time. I went back to put my washing in the dryer, and got chatting to a lovely young lady from San Fransisco, she and her partner are traveling Western Europe. She worked for a German woman in San Fransisco, parting out motor bikes and selling the parts online. She has a bike licence, hopefully one day she’ll use it to see some more of the world. She’s Iranian by birth, so as you’d imagine, she’s not confident of the future of her and her family living in the “States” with things as they are at the moment.
Speaking of not being happy, I had a great plan that I’d get the last bit out of my tyres by leaving it until I got down here to change them. Me and my great plans. What I hadn’t considered, was my not knowing where the bike shops are, my not being able to explain myself in Spanish, when I called the shops and the fact that the shops may have to order the tyres that I wanted to fit. Anyway I ended up asking the hotel receptionist to speak to a shop that can get them, but they were unsure if I’d get them in the morning or later tomorrow. I’d hoped to sail to Morocco tomorrow afternoon, I’ve now had to move that plan until Wednesday. If for any reason that they don’t turn up, then I’ve found a KTM dealer that have some duel sport Maxxis, but I’d prefer to stick with TKC80 that I’m using at the moment, while they’re not perfect, I know what to expect from them, while I’m traveling in yet unknown countries.
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Davey, sounds like it's already an adventure and you're not in Africa yet!
You'll have a marvellous time. I did the trip down to Ghana 6 years ago. My information isn't current but may be some snippets in here.
http://www.ukgser.com/forums/showthread.php/187124-Flying-Snakes-and-the-kindness-of-strangers
Good luck!
You'll have a marvellous time. I did the trip down to Ghana 6 years ago. My information isn't current but may be some snippets in here.
http://www.ukgser.com/forums/showthread.php/187124-Flying-Snakes-and-the-kindness-of-strangers
Good luck!
merlings1200
Registered user
Thanks Mark, I've learnt to love it. It's much more of a "real" adventure bike than my GSA. The way that you spec'ed the bike originally, was perfect for my needs. I only needed to have Tony Archer work is magic on the seat, which is now all day comfortable. I've fitted a centre stand, a Scotoiler, a couple of driving lights and some Ardcase panniers. When I get back I'll change the exhaust for something quieter.
This was taken last night, just before I was kidnapped by an Irish gang.
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Dave
When you get back to the UK send me a PM i think i may have the original exhaust
Mark
Hi Ed,
I'd read your report last year when was thinking about the trip. Again I found it very encouraging, and you also were paramount in my thoughts last Thursday. !!!
Great report and I'd love to meet up with you and Jim to compare notes when I get back.
Thanks Mark, I'll be in touch when I get back.
Well today I should cross to Africa, really looking forward to it, but there is a hint of trepidation. I'll write a full report of the highs and lows from the last couple of days, later.
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Great stuff mate.
Sorry, I haven't posted for a few days, to busy enjoying the trip, which is what it's about after all. I arrived in Morocco on Wednesday evening. The sun was setting while I was still on the ferry, to make if worse, as I just wanted to get to Morocco, I got the most convenient ferry, which is to Tangier Med not Tangier. By road they're about 60k apart. So I'll be riding after dark, a rule, I will promised not to do while in Africa, and before I even get there I've broken it. It takes about an hour to clear customs, there's lots of horn blowing and general mayhem, but I take no part in it, I'm just really happy to be in Africa.
Once out on the road, the first surprise, is the autoroute, no half dirt road, but a full blown motorway to rival any in Europe. It also comes with full European extras as well, and before long I come to a peage and need to take a ticket, which in itself is not an issue, but when i get to the other end, they'll want money and etched in my mind is the Northern Spain experience. I don't want to go through that again, so I stop at the first services I come to. There's an ATM machine there, but it doesn't accept my card. No problem while in Gibraltar, I'd taken some British cash out and the cashier in the shop is happy to take UK cash. Here comes the rub, the money that I got from the Gibraltar till is Micky Mouse sterling, and he doesn’t even know what it is, but he takes £20 note from me and tells me he'll be back in a while. After 10-15 minutes he returns, (I know you thought that was the last I'd see of him and my £20, come on this is Africa not London) and says he can't change it. He's happy to take the only "real" British £20 note that I have, but I'm reluctant to part with it, as it maybe my get out of jail card, at a later date. Anyway I need Moroccan cash, so we have a long argument at the rate, I tell him, the rate he is offering will only buy him the Gibraltian money. After sometime we agree a rate, he calls me a tight bastard and I call him a thieving bastard, which means we got it about right.
Off I go into the night and when I get to the toll booth there are no problems, apart from the time it takes me to stop, find neutral, cut the engine, take off my gloves, get off the bike, find the ticket, find the cash in my pockets, pay the attendant, put the change away, put my gloves back on, start the bike, engage first gear and pull away. All the time the queue of cars are getting longer behind me.
When I get to Tangier, I’m in for a bigger surprise, instead of the third world, ramshackle town, we in Europe are led to believe is Africa and the Middle East, but I’m met by long, wide boulevards, lined with beautiful modern buildings. This is more what I’d expect in Las Vagus rather than, this “former busy port, that has had its hey day” to paraphrase Lonely Planet. I eagerly find the hotel that I’d booked, and fair to say, although it’s ready for a re-dec’ it’s a modern multi-storey building. I change, go out to find something to eat, and return to the bar, where I end up in conversation, with a couple of Senegalese and French musicians, about the worlds favourite subject at this moment, Donald Trump. You can’t believe how universally afraid the world is of this man. I think we are more afraid of his stupiderty than his rhetoric.
How different this had been to Monday night in Seville, as I said earlier, I’d met two Irish couples, that had decided to celebrate my forthcoming birthday early. They’d plied me with drink, denied me food, took me to the weirdest bar, i’d ever seen in my life, (and I’ve seen a lot of bars). A good time was had by all, but I paid the price on Tuesday morning. Fortunately that was a non starter due to the problems I’d had, getting the right tyres.
Of course, I was let down on Tuesday, by the company that had promised to get my tyres, but having a fall back plan of the KTM dealer I was able to go to them, for what I believed would be the wrong make, but it turned out that they had the TKC 80 that I wanted. I was pleased with that, but by the time they had fitted them and looked at a couple of other things, it was too late to get going so I hung around Seville for another day, which was why I was now rushing to still make Morocco on Wednesday as I’d planned.The plan had been to stay in Algercir on Tuesday night, going across to Morocco around mid day Wednesday, then riding down to Rebat and staying there overnight.
Thursday, I”d changed my new plan to go to Rebat, and thought I might make up time if I got going to Marrakesh. But first I had to get some money changed, this was easier said than done, as the banks also thought my Gibraltar sterling was Micky Mouse and sent me off to a money changer, who agreed it was Micky Mouse, but was at least prepared to give me a Micky Mouse rate. I was beaten, I accepted the rate and then set off to find an insurance company. There was nowhere obviously open at the port selling insurance, last night and I didn’t want to make things worse, by asking to many people (the authorities), where I would find a company. But I wasn’t prepared to go any further without some, so now I needed to find somewhere. Having visited a small number of agents, the best I found was cover that started at 12 midnight, which meant I’d have to stay in Tangier another night, not what I wanted to do. However there was a agent at Tangier port, (not back at Tangier Med port), that should be able to start cover immediately, it was only 3 or 4 kilometres away and I could get a taxis. I flagged a cab, a little blue rickety thing, but he got me safely there for 6DLH, (60p). The agent indeed did cover that started today, it was 3rd party only and it was the same price that I’d been quoted earlier, £49 for 5 days, £82 for 10 days but I wasn’t staying in Morocco that long so I took the 5 day cover. I then had a quick breakfast, at the next hut down, mint tea, which I’d not drank since childhood as I hated the taste, but this was very sweet and enjoyable. Strange as I don’t take sugar normally, plus an egg sandwich. As I was stood eating I observed the cooks hygiene, and thought it hadn’t been a good idea eating here, but It was too late as I was halfway through. I’d more than likely pay for it later, but I never did.
By now it was nearly 11:30ish, so if I cracked on I could still make Marrakesh. Of course today was Thursday, so it started to rain just before I set off. I’d hoped that my clothing was only non-waterproof when it came to Biblical rain, but this stuff falling form the sky was your ordinary English rain and I was getting wet. Never mind I can see fairly well so increase my to my normal speed of around 75-80 mph, and press on.
This paragraph, can only be read on UKGSER, as my wife don’t have access to this, and it would make her worry more if she was aware of the following. I go for the overtake of a couple of cars, nothing out of the way, I’m still traveling at my normal speed. I start to pull back to the near lane, I loose grip on both my front and rear tyres, I think I can hold it, but I can’t and now both me and the bike are traveling at around 70mph independently, the bike on its side and me on my back, shit. I now need to get out of the lane, (there are the 2 cars that I’ve just overtaken coming up behind) and I need to stop. Normally if I’m going to crash, it will at least involve someone else, who I hit, which normally stops me immediately. I use to race cars so know what to if I get it those wrong, but I never raced bikes, I could never see the excitement of going so fast you end up sliding down the road, added to the fact that when I started racing, even a minor off on a bike could lead to tragedy. But still I should’ve known, sliding on your back is ok, you will stop, so stay as you are and don’t alter anything. But I did, and now I was going end over end and it hurt. Eventually I did stop, but now in far more pain than I needed to be in. The cars beIhind had seen what was happening and had slowed, so was never really an issue. Before I do anything I give myself a quick once over, there’s a little pain, but all seems to be working ok, so i get up. The following cars have now stopped and most of its occupants are out, and concerned about my welfare, I’m given cold water with about six sugar cubes in it, then I ask for help righting the bike, which they do. Before long a recovery truck stops, the others are now happy to leave me in the drivers hands, they wish me well and depart. I take a closer look at the bike, which really does crash well, I’d go so far to say, if you want a bike that you can crash and then happily go on to do another 3000 miles, this is the one. There are a few grazes, that really just add to the patina of the bike, and all I need to is use the starting handle offered toby the recovery driver, to jimmy the slightly bent front fairing frame and it’s good. It’s reluctant to start, but so am I, but start it does. The recovery driver wishes me safe journey and tells me in French (that I don’t understand) that he’ll follow on and keep and eye out for me if I have a problem. This he did for a fellow traveller and not for reward. But what took me down, I think that there was oil or diesel on the road, mixed with the rain, perfect! I stop at the first services I come too, and check myself a little closer. Now my non-waterproof clothing have a reasonable sized hole in one arm of the jacket and the same on the left cheek of my trousers, but all in all, like the bike I’d crashed well.
After probably more than a hours hold up on the motorway I decide to change plans again and head for Rabat. This appears to be much like Tangier, but I’m not really in the mood for looking around, it’s getting late so i find a hotel, then a restaurant, phone home and get an early night. This turns out to be a waste of time as I’m awake in the early hours, and can’t get back to sleep. I end up finishing Nelson Mandela’s, Long Walk to Freedom, which I find very encouraging, and empowers me for what the day will bring. This sound really grand, but when you look at it what I’m doing it is meniscal, to what he and others have done. Any set backs that I’ve had, are pathetic, in comparison. Tomorrow I will head for Marrakesh, I haven’t had a lot of sleep so I won’t go any further than that and there’s no rain forecasted, sure enough the sun shows it’s head just as I leave, today will be a better day.
Once out on the road, the first surprise, is the autoroute, no half dirt road, but a full blown motorway to rival any in Europe. It also comes with full European extras as well, and before long I come to a peage and need to take a ticket, which in itself is not an issue, but when i get to the other end, they'll want money and etched in my mind is the Northern Spain experience. I don't want to go through that again, so I stop at the first services I come to. There's an ATM machine there, but it doesn't accept my card. No problem while in Gibraltar, I'd taken some British cash out and the cashier in the shop is happy to take UK cash. Here comes the rub, the money that I got from the Gibraltar till is Micky Mouse sterling, and he doesn’t even know what it is, but he takes £20 note from me and tells me he'll be back in a while. After 10-15 minutes he returns, (I know you thought that was the last I'd see of him and my £20, come on this is Africa not London) and says he can't change it. He's happy to take the only "real" British £20 note that I have, but I'm reluctant to part with it, as it maybe my get out of jail card, at a later date. Anyway I need Moroccan cash, so we have a long argument at the rate, I tell him, the rate he is offering will only buy him the Gibraltian money. After sometime we agree a rate, he calls me a tight bastard and I call him a thieving bastard, which means we got it about right.
Off I go into the night and when I get to the toll booth there are no problems, apart from the time it takes me to stop, find neutral, cut the engine, take off my gloves, get off the bike, find the ticket, find the cash in my pockets, pay the attendant, put the change away, put my gloves back on, start the bike, engage first gear and pull away. All the time the queue of cars are getting longer behind me.
When I get to Tangier, I’m in for a bigger surprise, instead of the third world, ramshackle town, we in Europe are led to believe is Africa and the Middle East, but I’m met by long, wide boulevards, lined with beautiful modern buildings. This is more what I’d expect in Las Vagus rather than, this “former busy port, that has had its hey day” to paraphrase Lonely Planet. I eagerly find the hotel that I’d booked, and fair to say, although it’s ready for a re-dec’ it’s a modern multi-storey building. I change, go out to find something to eat, and return to the bar, where I end up in conversation, with a couple of Senegalese and French musicians, about the worlds favourite subject at this moment, Donald Trump. You can’t believe how universally afraid the world is of this man. I think we are more afraid of his stupiderty than his rhetoric.
How different this had been to Monday night in Seville, as I said earlier, I’d met two Irish couples, that had decided to celebrate my forthcoming birthday early. They’d plied me with drink, denied me food, took me to the weirdest bar, i’d ever seen in my life, (and I’ve seen a lot of bars). A good time was had by all, but I paid the price on Tuesday morning. Fortunately that was a non starter due to the problems I’d had, getting the right tyres.
Of course, I was let down on Tuesday, by the company that had promised to get my tyres, but having a fall back plan of the KTM dealer I was able to go to them, for what I believed would be the wrong make, but it turned out that they had the TKC 80 that I wanted. I was pleased with that, but by the time they had fitted them and looked at a couple of other things, it was too late to get going so I hung around Seville for another day, which was why I was now rushing to still make Morocco on Wednesday as I’d planned.The plan had been to stay in Algercir on Tuesday night, going across to Morocco around mid day Wednesday, then riding down to Rebat and staying there overnight.
Thursday, I”d changed my new plan to go to Rebat, and thought I might make up time if I got going to Marrakesh. But first I had to get some money changed, this was easier said than done, as the banks also thought my Gibraltar sterling was Micky Mouse and sent me off to a money changer, who agreed it was Micky Mouse, but was at least prepared to give me a Micky Mouse rate. I was beaten, I accepted the rate and then set off to find an insurance company. There was nowhere obviously open at the port selling insurance, last night and I didn’t want to make things worse, by asking to many people (the authorities), where I would find a company. But I wasn’t prepared to go any further without some, so now I needed to find somewhere. Having visited a small number of agents, the best I found was cover that started at 12 midnight, which meant I’d have to stay in Tangier another night, not what I wanted to do. However there was a agent at Tangier port, (not back at Tangier Med port), that should be able to start cover immediately, it was only 3 or 4 kilometres away and I could get a taxis. I flagged a cab, a little blue rickety thing, but he got me safely there for 6DLH, (60p). The agent indeed did cover that started today, it was 3rd party only and it was the same price that I’d been quoted earlier, £49 for 5 days, £82 for 10 days but I wasn’t staying in Morocco that long so I took the 5 day cover. I then had a quick breakfast, at the next hut down, mint tea, which I’d not drank since childhood as I hated the taste, but this was very sweet and enjoyable. Strange as I don’t take sugar normally, plus an egg sandwich. As I was stood eating I observed the cooks hygiene, and thought it hadn’t been a good idea eating here, but It was too late as I was halfway through. I’d more than likely pay for it later, but I never did.
By now it was nearly 11:30ish, so if I cracked on I could still make Marrakesh. Of course today was Thursday, so it started to rain just before I set off. I’d hoped that my clothing was only non-waterproof when it came to Biblical rain, but this stuff falling form the sky was your ordinary English rain and I was getting wet. Never mind I can see fairly well so increase my to my normal speed of around 75-80 mph, and press on.
This paragraph, can only be read on UKGSER, as my wife don’t have access to this, and it would make her worry more if she was aware of the following. I go for the overtake of a couple of cars, nothing out of the way, I’m still traveling at my normal speed. I start to pull back to the near lane, I loose grip on both my front and rear tyres, I think I can hold it, but I can’t and now both me and the bike are traveling at around 70mph independently, the bike on its side and me on my back, shit. I now need to get out of the lane, (there are the 2 cars that I’ve just overtaken coming up behind) and I need to stop. Normally if I’m going to crash, it will at least involve someone else, who I hit, which normally stops me immediately. I use to race cars so know what to if I get it those wrong, but I never raced bikes, I could never see the excitement of going so fast you end up sliding down the road, added to the fact that when I started racing, even a minor off on a bike could lead to tragedy. But still I should’ve known, sliding on your back is ok, you will stop, so stay as you are and don’t alter anything. But I did, and now I was going end over end and it hurt. Eventually I did stop, but now in far more pain than I needed to be in. The cars beIhind had seen what was happening and had slowed, so was never really an issue. Before I do anything I give myself a quick once over, there’s a little pain, but all seems to be working ok, so i get up. The following cars have now stopped and most of its occupants are out, and concerned about my welfare, I’m given cold water with about six sugar cubes in it, then I ask for help righting the bike, which they do. Before long a recovery truck stops, the others are now happy to leave me in the drivers hands, they wish me well and depart. I take a closer look at the bike, which really does crash well, I’d go so far to say, if you want a bike that you can crash and then happily go on to do another 3000 miles, this is the one. There are a few grazes, that really just add to the patina of the bike, and all I need to is use the starting handle offered toby the recovery driver, to jimmy the slightly bent front fairing frame and it’s good. It’s reluctant to start, but so am I, but start it does. The recovery driver wishes me safe journey and tells me in French (that I don’t understand) that he’ll follow on and keep and eye out for me if I have a problem. This he did for a fellow traveller and not for reward. But what took me down, I think that there was oil or diesel on the road, mixed with the rain, perfect! I stop at the first services I come too, and check myself a little closer. Now my non-waterproof clothing have a reasonable sized hole in one arm of the jacket and the same on the left cheek of my trousers, but all in all, like the bike I’d crashed well.
After probably more than a hours hold up on the motorway I decide to change plans again and head for Rabat. This appears to be much like Tangier, but I’m not really in the mood for looking around, it’s getting late so i find a hotel, then a restaurant, phone home and get an early night. This turns out to be a waste of time as I’m awake in the early hours, and can’t get back to sleep. I end up finishing Nelson Mandela’s, Long Walk to Freedom, which I find very encouraging, and empowers me for what the day will bring. This sound really grand, but when you look at it what I’m doing it is meniscal, to what he and others have done. Any set backs that I’ve had, are pathetic, in comparison. Tomorrow I will head for Marrakesh, I haven’t had a lot of sleep so I won’t go any further than that and there’s no rain forecasted, sure enough the sun shows it’s head just as I leave, today will be a better day.
Wow, hope you're alright Dave. Got away with that one.
Replace your gear if you don't think it will protect you from a similar spill. You don't want to rub your arse off on the road.
Great read. Look forward to more.
Replace your gear if you don't think it will protect you from a similar spill. You don't want to rub your arse off on the road.
Great read. Look forward to more.
They certainly didn't help, but the sudden loss of grip was caused by what I rode over.
Sadly replacing gear down here is very difficult. I went into a bike shop today, with a showroom full of small machines, they had helmets but no gloves, I said "no gloves" she said "non". While in Spain I was trying to find a dealer that had a Rallye suit in stock, only one had any on the shelf, then not in my size. I'm going to have to live with what I've got and a little bit of hope. I'm in Marrakesh at the moment getting ready to head south tomorrow. So there will be less gear not more. We really don't know we're born up there.
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Sadly replacing gear down here is very difficult. I went into a bike shop today, with a showroom full of small machines, they had helmets but no gloves, I said "no gloves" she said "non". While in Spain I was trying to find a dealer that had a Rallye suit in stock, only one had any on the shelf, then not in my size. I'm going to have to live with what I've got and a little bit of hope. I'm in Marrakesh at the moment getting ready to head south tomorrow. So there will be less gear not more. We really don't know we're born up there.
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