Day 14/15
Day 14/15
Got up have breakfast and leave early from the hotel. Downstairs for breakfast at 07.30 to be told on a Sunday breakfast is at 08.00. So packed up the bike checked out (same good looking receptionist) and at 08.00 was in for breakfast. The car park has about 3 cars and the beemer but the breakfast was laid out about 50 people. More and more hot food appeared, eggs, tomatoes, pastries. So stuffed myself and it washed down with Polish (near syrup style) strong coffee.
At 08.20 left the hotel with the kitchen staff all out the back watching me go and pointing at the bike. Headed for the motorway towards Wroclaw, one thing I can say about Poland is the road signs are numerous, helpful and very very large. (One town direction sign I had seen on a roundabout was about 15foot long, even David Blunkett and his dog couldn’t miss that one). Once on the motorway sat at a steady 70 mph heading in the direction of Germany. Sat nav shows about 900 miles to Calais. Polish motorways are very devoid of petrol stations and had to dive off to refuel when things were starting to look at bit desperate. Chucked 5 litres in my petrol can just in case.
Made the border to Germany without incident. The border had no passport check area but did have a search area and a couple of very hard looking German Police/Customs were pulling in Polish cars. I wonder if this had anything to do with the roadside cigarette stalls selling bulk cigarettes in the lay-bys just before the border.
Started to cross Germany, I planned to do a 400 to 450 miler day to get home on target. Keeping to the steady 70mph and rocking inside my helmet to Metallica, Iron Maiden and other very heavy music I made good progress. Lots of stops for water, fuel and map checks. At 3pm stopped just the other side of Leipzig and had a rest. Laid on the grass next to the bike and fell asleep in the glorious sunshine for an hour. Feeling great carried on.
At about 6pm with the light fading and on a A-road between motorways found a sign for a hotel; had completed 450 miles so thought it was a good place to stop for the night. Went inside this village bar/hotel which had about 12 German older men sat around in groups. I approached the bar and enquired about the rooms. Whilst the Bar tender made a call I looked around the bar nobody spoke a word, they were all staring at me, I mean really staring at me. I nodded hello to a couple of them, no reaction – Where am I, I thought to myself and remembered outside the two young males with straining pitbulls on leads (complete with shaved heads – no braces or boots). I was starting to get the creeps and was thinking this was a bad idea. Still not a word from anybody in the bar, maybe its funeral I thought, nobody was wearing black. Not a happy bunny I was expecting somebody to say something even “Das Englander das escaped on zie motorbike from Stalag Luft, er ist going to jump zie fence like zie Ameriikaner in 1943” (The Great Escape 1963).
Fantasy over the bar tender came back, no rooms even thought she had already said she had. Relieved I was not staying there jumped on the bike and headed for the Swiss border avoiding all military checkpoints and then was chased and fired on by a bike and side car....back in that fantasy again. (see what long hours in the saddle of a German bike can do)
Back on the motorway a little later in a remote part of Germany I came to the decision to just carry on, no chance of a hotel or campsite nearby. It was quickly getting dark. At 8pm pulled over somewhere gods knows where in the country and brewed up a coffee and opened some emergency rations of special fried rice and meatballs in sauce. Body refuelled carried on into the darkness and decided to carry on to Calais or until unable to carry on any further. At 1am that happened just over the German/Belgian border where I was falling asleep in my helmet. Pulled over into a lay-by which was well lit parked the bike next to a picnic table opened up the Bivvy bag and climbed inside with full motorcycle gear on. Almost as soon as I had laid down a car roared into the lay-by with three heavy set males and parked a few feet from me. ‘Oh no’ I thought here I am in Belgium after all that travel and this where I get done over. Anyway they hadn’t seen me, they changed driver and the Romanian car roared off back to the motorway. Relief and I drifted off to sleep. Three hours later was awoken by the hiss of air brakes from a lorry that had pulled in. So got up feeling much better and back onto the motorway towards Brussels.
Stopped the Calais side of Brussels in the daylight for breakfast which consisted of Diet Coke and a Twix. Emptied the spare fuel into the tank and started the final run in to Calais Port. Arrived at the Port at 07.45 and approached P&O. Explained I had come back early on my ticket, a jaw dropping £60 amendment fee to go on the 08.35 ferry. Went to the booking offices and sneakily went to SeaFrance first for a quote for a one way ticket £77. So went to the P&O office paid up and queued for the ferry. My original return ticket for the month was only £29. If I had thought ahead would have booked an internet ticket at half the price.
I was the first vehicle loaded, strapped down the bike and sent a text ahead to Dover to my work colleagues that I was on my way. Found the Costa coffee and sat down with it and my book for a relaxing 90 minutes.
Time flies and phone rang, it was Dover calling and looking out the window I could just see the harbour through the mist. I actually wonder if I fell asleep the journey was that quick. The boat docked and off we went and two of friends from work were at the bottom of the off-ramp with a great welcome home. I was really pleased to see them and touched with their consideration of seeing me off the boat. They told me to go to the staff canteen where a coffee and a fatboys breakfast waiting for me. So we sat and recounted tales of my travels whilst munching on a place of the best tasting food ever (thanks Nigel). Even my boss came and welcomed me back.
Following this had a few pictures for the album and started to make my way the 20 miles home. Popped quickly into see my parents who were very relieved to see me home safe and well. (They thought I would be mugged, shot, robbed, raped and generally dismembered in every country outside France).
Then I arrived home to an empty house. My neighbour who was painting his fence said ‘Morning Geoff been to work on your bike today’ I dunno what he thought I did with a tent sleeping bag etc whilst at work?
Unpacked the bike, piled the washing in front of the machine (Prezzie for Mrs Ghostrider) and had a long shower. Fell asleep for a short while after scaring the hell out of the kids when they came home thinking I would be back tomorrow. Mrs Ghostrider was over to moon to see me and we celebrated with a Chinese and the photos slide show through the Wii. Too tired for beer tonight but tomorrow will have a few.
Total miles today from Tychy in Poland to my house a massive
922 miles and yes my ass hurts along with my wrists and knees.
Tomorrow a day of relaxing and sorting out the kit.
Ghostrider AKA Geoff
PS. More to follow over the next couple of days
onyack
:
I've got nothing to add Geoff, I just love these smilies
