At the airport the bikes where searched and checked by security
all were cleared but there was a problem. Thomas Cook had sent the wrong pallets! Rather than flat pallets which we easily load the bikes on and strap them down they sent 2 general pallets which were boxes and 2 bikes in each would be a tight squeeze and difficult to secure.
It was not made easier the fact the pallets were on wheeled bogies but with help from the staff we managed to lift the bikes in and get them strapped down. Waving them a tearful farewell we headed to the terminal to get checked in.
Gert, Kathryn, Linda and myself got checked in and were told to go through to departures. Dave and Mike had to wait and see if they could get on the flight. Things were tense as the departure time got closer, then with 5 minutes to go we saw them coming through the gate, we were on our way.
Dave was still feeling pretty rough but glad to be on the way home. During the flight Linda succumbed to the dreaded Banjul Belly as did Gert
It seemed like The Butchers Shop was an apt name for the restaurant where we had our final meal.
Arriving in Manchester with some pretty sick individuals we gathered our gear and headed to a Premier Inn for an overnight stop before Linda and Kathryn flying home the following day and the rest of us heading off to find the bikes and prep them for our ride home. It was freezing and after our time in the heat of Africa we were all feeling it.
About 2 in the morning I woke feeling distinctly unwell, I'd succumbed to the dreaded Banjul Belly
Linda headed off about 4.30 for her flight, I stayed in bed sweating and running for the bathroom.
Heading down to meet the rest of the guys as arranged at 8.30 we had a general moan and discussion over the likely cause of our upset stomachs before calling airline to see what was required to get the bikes back. Turned out we needed to appoint a registered import agent to clear them into the UK, the nice man gave a me a couple of phone numbers of companies near by and one phone call later we had sorted everything out with a company near to the hotel (can't remember the name but I'm sure someone will add it later) and walked over to complete the paperwork and pay the fee.
BY the time we got there they had everything soted, paperwork signed, fee paid we headed down to get the bikes. Very helpful people in the clearance agents, knowing that the bikes were drained of fuel one of the guys offered to lend us a petrol can and take Dave to the nearest garage to fill it up and then drop him at the bonded warehouse. Talk about great service.
We found the warehouse and presented our paperwork, 5 minutes later a fork lift brought out the containers. With quite a bit of apprehension we opened the flap.
They were all fine!
We unloaded the bikes and started reconnecting batteries and packing gear. Dave put fuel in his bike first and started shuttling 5 litres of fuel between the petrol station and the warehouse until all four bikes were ready for the off.
Having left the petrol can back with the clearance agent we called in at the petrol station to top up the tanks before heading off on the journey home, Gert, Dave and Mike were heading for Scotia while I intended to head up to see Neil 23 and kill some time before heading to the Birkenhead ferry that night.
As we headed North on the motorway we were all freezing and I started to feel particularly unwell being plagued with the dreaded Banjul belly, but then things got worse. We lost Gert!
Pulling into the inside lane and dropping to a crawl we waited to see if he would appear, we had agreed at the start of the trip that in a situation like this we would pull off at the next junction, and as we approached we saw the gleam of a bikes HIDed lights and fogs, it was Gert safe and sound.
We pulled off anyway at the junction with the M63. Turned out Gert had been riding along merrily when he noticed his tank bag was not where it had been for the past 6 weeks, ie on the tank, he'd left it on top of his spare tyres at the bonded warehouse and had to pull over. Luckily it was still there so properly attached he headed off to catch us up.
In a way it was quite fortunate because at this point I was starting to feel extremely unwell and decided to part company from the group and head straight to Birkenhead.
As I waved them a fond farewell (two fingers alternated with the Tosser salute) I called Neil to let him know what was happening. Getting ready to get back on the bike the world started spinning, next thing I know I'm on my back in the bushes of the car park gazing at the sky with a couple of woman standing over me asking if I was alright.
Turned out I'd passed out and they had seen me go down (quiet at the back there this is a serious report
) so I took a break and let my head clear before heading back on the road.
Arriving at the docks 7 hours early I parked the bike at the front of the queue (well there was no queue but it was where the queue would be) and settled down to wait. I had to stay outside as going inside the terminal made me nauseous so it was a long wait. To pass the time I took pictures of the bike on my phone, made the occasional phone call and played Bejeweled in between running to the washrooms to answer natures call. It was a long day!
I eventually made it on board the ferry and headed straight to my cabin without hitting the bar for my normal dose of Mr Smirnoff's finest, the purser was annoyed as he had seen my name on the passenger list and got in extra supplies specially, but I just was not up to it.
Falling asleep as soon as my feet hit the pillow I did;nt stir until the wake up call at 5.30 the next morning.
Heading off the ferry to a cold and damp Belfast it started to hit me that Calum's Road was nearly over, over but certainly not forgotten,
Thanks for your patience in waiting for me to finish this report, it's a very general, high level impression of the trip, and it's a trip that I'll remember for a very, very long time (unlike the name of the clearance agent in Manchester
)
TTFN