European tour 2014 day 2

Day 2

We awoke early again, the weather this morning was prefect, sun, blue skies and broken cloud, ideal for biking or in my case riding pillion in the car with the roof down. The day started in the hotel restaurant having a nice continental breakfast (unfortunately no cooked breakfast) but there was plenty to choose, from an array of hams and salamis, sweet breads and cakes, yoghurts, cereals, toast, fruit, hot and cold drinks and always handy to pick up a couple of bits of fruit too for later in the day.

 

After breakfast the cars were once again packed the bike unlocked and we made our way to the inevitable fuel stop. Tanks filled we headed off towards this evening’s hotel which would today be in Champagnole not exactly in what I would class as the Alps but still mountainous. There would be nothing of interest to see today apart from the countryside, just a simple A to B road trip. The road today was quite a major road, but it was nevertheless a lovely open winding road that weaved itself through the French countryside. After yesterday the miles seemed to flow quickly by, the landscape here was just stunning like the Southdowns but on steroids. France is just so vast and open. One minute you would be at the bottom of the valley the next riding over bridges that spanned large wood lined gullies below.

This would have been my first full blown tour and I must admit I was missing riding my bike, but I wasn’t going to let it get me down. There can always be a next time. When planning my next adventure I can always keep the good bits in and change any bits I didn’t like, if or should I say when I return.

Everything was going well the roads and the weather were great, but we’d travelled quite away and needed to start looking for fuel.  I know I shouldn’t have, but I started to worry about the next fuel stop.  We hit the small town of Chaumot and things started to then go a little wrong. The satnav wanted us to turn right at a roundabout that didnt exist, but this may be down to the fact they were actually building or doing something where we needed to go. After going around the town’s one way system trying to sort it out, I then slightly panicked and reprogrammed the satnav to find the nearest fuel station. Ok, it was only a short drive and we were there, we fuelled up, and we got feed and watered. We had time to relax before we carried on the next leg of our journey.

This is when I made a small but crucial mistake. I hit the start button and my Garmin then asked me where I would like to start my onward journey from. When programming this part of the trip I didn’t put in many way points. Now I know if I started the next part of the ride at a point that was behind us, the Garmin would send us back miles to start at that point.  I didn’t want that so I guessed at one of the few waypoints that I knew were ahead of us (I should really have used more way points, but that’s learning with hindsight). Anyway we were off once again and life felt good, well until we got to the toll booth. I couldn’t understand it. I purposely had avoided motorways and tolls, but here we were sitting in front of one. We pulled over and I checked the settings once more read through the list of way point made my selection, waited and yes this was my route (or so I thought at the time) but I should have guessed it was wrong as the arrival time had been reduced by an hour.

 

So I bit the bullet and proceeded mile after mile of boring motorway sped by and soon anther 80 miles was under our belt.  It was also lunch time so we looked for a suitable service station and pulled in. Whilst the others went to grab some food I rummaged in the boot of the car for the good old reliable map. There clearly in highlighted yellow was the route and not a motorway in sight.  I couldn’t work out what had gone wrong but we were committed now so I had to accept what had happened and just get on with it.

We had a nice snack of sandwiches, Pringles and coke, whilst sat in the sun watching the world go by. It was a nice break where we could stretch our legs and chill for a while. We watched eagles and kites soar over the local fields whilst a little sparrow came to join us for lunch. There was also a military vehicle parked up that took my fancy.

Now committed we carried on the laborious trip down the motorway; I could see on the map where we were and where we should have been and I could see how the satnav was going to link us up, so I decided to let it do it’s jobs and I would sort out why and how later.

It wasn’t too long before we left the motorway and was once again on scenic roads, and I must say it was a joy. In the distance we could see some small mountains and the views just cheered me up. As we weaved our way across the countryside the distant mountains got closer and closer, and soon we were climbing up them, getting our first taste of a couple or so hairpin bends. This was the driving that I had wanted.  This was what this holiday was all about; the scenery, views and driving excellent roads.  Breathe taking are the only words that can describe it.  It was here we encountered our drops of rain. Not really enough to be called a shower but nevertheless rain.  However no sooner had it started it had passed and the sun was out once again.

 

This road was a pleasure to drive, everything combined to make it a real joy but it didn’t last very long, oh not for any other reason than we had reached our hotel in Champagnole.

We checked in parked the bike securely in the hotel’s private garage, the cars in the private car park. It was early, still only the afternoon, the sort of riding day I wanted from the off.  We went to our rooms to freshen up then went for a lovely walk in the forest. After the walk we had another short rest and had one of the best meals I have ever had, in the hotel’s restaurant. Then it was time to go off to bed for a good night sleep before tomorrow’s trip.

 

European tour 2014 Day 1

 

 

Day 1

Well yesterday was in no uncertain terms a disaster. After a surprisingly restful night I had decided that I wouldn’t be waiting for the bike to be repaired. Despite the recovery man saying he’d get the bike to the specialist first thing Monday morning, I had very little confidence of this happening, as the recovery company made it quite clear that motorbike shops didn’t open in France on a Monday. That meant that the bike would get to the repairs three days into our trip, it probably wouldn’t get looked at until the fourth day, then if they had the parts be fixed on the fifth but more likely the sixth day. That was almost half of our holiday, I couldn’t or wasn’t willing to waste the time, I took the recovery person’s advice and carried on with our tour.

Today was always going to be a long day. 240 estimated miles to travel, with 3 World War 1 grave cemeteries to visit to pay my respects then a long drive, (note drive not ride) to Chalons du Champagne.

 

The day started well, slightly overcast but mild. The hotel we were staying at laid on a nice buffet breakfast, which for me started with a small bowl of very sweet granola/muesli type cereal then a nice omelette with bacon.  The bacon wasn’t big like at home but was very tasty, and a glass or two of apple juice to rinse it all down with. We celebrated Ian’s (my brother) 50^th Birthday with cards and presents. We looked out through pine trees and over a lake whilst dining, and an early morning fisherman was just packing up and moving on.

 

Cars packed, bills paid and the bike ready for the off we made our way from France into Belgium.  The roads were quiet and empty. Our first stop of the day was the ever needed petrol station, the first of which decided to decline all of our cards. The next petrol station was more friendly and we all managed to fill up and finally we were under way. We weaved our way through the French countryside and into Belgium.  Some of the villages had cobbled street which set vibrations up and down my spine but it was lovely to see. As we made our way through the countryside and villages we followed some old military vehicles, it was quite poignant and it was nice to follow.  I expect that certain groups where getting ready to celebrate the 100^th anniversary of the end of the First World War and also the D-Day landings. I hadn’t arranged to go there for the celebrations it just worked out that way.

 We soon came to our first war grave cemetery of the day. I couldn’t believe how well kept it was, and I suddenly and unexpectedly became grief stricken. I haven’t ever felt anything like it before.  I had always wanted to pay my respects to those who had given their lives so we could be free today but didn’t realise what an impact it would have on me. To say it was moving would be an understatement.

We continued our journey through the Belgium countryside and although unplanned passed one after another after another of graves sites.  The enormity of the loss of life had started to dawn on me. After a short drive through the Belgium countryside we stopped at a small war cemetery and again I felt the feeling of grief. It doesn’t matter if the memorial had one or one thousand graves, no one could have given more.

 

 

 

The last war cemetery of the day had a special purpose. I had looked up on the CWWGC and found I Bithell (my surname) buried at Tyne Cot. I had all the info I needed to find him. We drove through the narrow lanes, but the site was huge and could be seen from miles away. I couldn’t believe the enormity of it and the thousands of graves, what made me especially sad was the amount of unknown soldiers, it was deeply moving.

 

 

We now had to get a move on as I had spent more time than expected, but not as much as our fallen heroes deserved, looking at our history. So we left Ypres and headed toward Mons trying to make up time. We left Belgium and headed back into France via the Parc de National. The roads now were straight and fast. With glorious views over vast amounts of country side, but the thought of this morning never left as many of the fields we drove through were stained red with poppies.

We had left the flatness of Belgium behind and we were soon in the sweeping and rolling countryside of France. Large wind turbines dotted the sky line, but the sky was kind and although we had a good amount of sun the cloud was there to take the edge of the heat. I had picked a very good route and was sad at times that my bike was left behind, but I would give a running commentary to my wife, of how I would have ridden that particular part of the road.

 

The day now seemed long and I just wanted to get to the hotel. Everyone was tired from yesterday’s exploits; we had been on the road since about 9am and finally arrived at our hotel at 7pm a long day but a good day. The hotel from the outside looked like any other main road hotel, but the rooms although a little cosy, were nicely turned out.

Once booked in we took a short walk to a local restaurant, where a grumpy waitress, that didn’t want to serve English people, reluctantly showed us to our seats. I think it was due to the fact that the restaurant didn’t have a big enough float, and they were raiding the tips jar to try and find enough change to give to a customer. We had a nice 50^th birthday dinner and headed back to our rooms. All ready for a good night’s sleep.

 

 

European tour 2014 "The Journey To France"

The journey to France

Well after months of planning and organising it was the day for the off, and our European tour was going to begin. The morning was bright with broken clouds and everything had been checked and double checked.  I was the only one left to get fuel as everyone else had had the hindsight to fuel up already.

Soon the cars were packed and the time had come to depart. I raced off ahead to fuel up and the others were to meet me at the garage. I had had a quick look at the travel and knew that the M25 was going to be block no matter which way we went, so once fuelled we headed off towards the Dartford crossing, the journey was pleasant for a motorway ride. The sun was shining the world was many shades of green, the fields bright yellow with the rape harvest in full bloom.  Yes it was lovely a means to an end to get to the chunnel quickly.

 

However after we’d gotten through the road works with little fuss we came to a halt just two junctions from the Dartford crossing. We then averaged about 6mph for the last 8 miles. The heat from the engine was at some points too much. We juggled our way through the toll booths and headed toward the M20 travelling slowly so everyone had a chance to catch up. The M20 was empty as we soon were making good time so I decided to take the opportunity to make a quick stop at the services. This proved to be a very popular decision as everyone was in need of a stretch.

After a short break, and time not really on our side we made the last 20 mile dash to the chunnel. Well we would have but my bike decided it wasn’t happy starting; I was a bit annoyed as I had just brought a brand new battery. We got it started and headed off. Although when we did arrive my bike decided to stop. It is here with hind sight that I should have stopped my holiday and called the recovery service to collect me and take me home, but NO! I pushed the bike through the barrier and stopped the other side. I then managed to get a jump start and headed to the train. I rode through all the check points and the train was in sight but the bike wasn’t happy and decided to stop again. I decided that I could push it the last 100 yards and deal with the problem the other side. Surely it was only a battery and like you can get them anywhere, RIGHT!?! We were on the train in time for our scheduled departure and France was now just minutes away.

 

The journey through the tunnel was a nice rest bite, but the bike was dead. There was no life in the battery and on the turn off the key the dash glowed dimly. Had I made the wrong decision to push on? It was a bit late now to have second thoughts, but I wasn’t going to let it spoil the holiday. We called for help via the help button and I requested a jump start, the people on the train were exceedingly helpful and got me going again. Surely if I could just get to the first hotel, buy a cheap battery charger and charge the battery overnight all would be ok. But as we left the station my engine management light lit up. I didn’t want to take the chance the hotel was about 30 miles from the station and most of that would be motorway so I pulled in at the services and regretfully admitted defeat. The recovery people were called and we sat the long sit awaiting their arrival. Finally they arrived, in the traditional late fashion, a promised thirty to forty minutes obviously was translated wrong and should have been an hour to an hour and a half. I said to the recovery driver, I just need a battery. He looked at me and said “I check”. I just wanted to get back on the road and was convinced all I needed was a new battery. We managed to jump the bike and as it ran he tested the charge. It was knackered there was no charge coming from the bike at all, so sadly she was raised on to the back of the truck and taken away.

 

With what I was told, there was little hope of me seeing her again this holiday. The mechanic said I will get your bike to the specialist Monday, but the recovery agent said there will be no one open tomorrow as its Sunday and bike shops in France don’t open on a Monday. My brain calculated that if the bike got to the shop on Tuesday, they most likely wouldn’t look at it until Wednesday, order parts and if lucky fix it Thursday or Friday, by which time we should be in Switzerland.

 

It was now dark; I had to put behind me what had happened and deal with the situation now. We had reshuffled the luggage and seating arrangements and headed to the hotel. I had planned to avoid driving at night but this was a necessary evil. It was not nice but some 40 minutes later we had arrived at our accommodation for the night

No one had eaten since lunch, but with the stress of what had happened no one was hungry. So we went to our rooms and bedded down for the night to see what tomorrow would bring.

 

European Tour 2014 "The Start"

European tour 2014

The start

A long time ago a man once said to me, words along the lines of, “there are two different types of people in this world, talkers and doers. Don’t talk your life away, do the things you want to do, you never know how long you have.” As a young man you think you are invincible, things can wait, you have a life time ahead of you, but as the years go by that time you thought you had, is suddenly dwindling away.

In 2008 I decided that I would try to pass my motorcycle licence and set myself 2 goals that I must do if I passed. The first was to buy a Kawasaki Ninja the second was to ride in the Alps. In 2008 I did pass my test and my first bike was a Candy Blue Kawasaki Ninja ZX9R. It was a little too late in the year for me to arrange any holidays, but in 2009 I took the bike to the Alps for my first Alpine biking adventure.

 

In 2012 I went back to the Alps this time on my Triumph Speed Triple. I had a great time and loved the mountain roads and although I had now been to the Alps twice I hadn’t done what I would class as a full blown tour. Both times I had been, I had rented a van put the bikes in the back and got the laborious motorway work out the way so I could enjoy the mountain roads, and once in the Alps I had a base to ride out from. This year 2014 would be different. It was my brother’s 50th birthday in June and he wanted to do a real full blown tour where we ride down then back again.

 

So the planning began, what would start as a simple biker trip soon turned into a family vacation, and a rough route plan would soon become a precision operation. One thing I had learnt from the last two trips was that to enjoy the time away I had to limit the riding to about 150 to 200 miles a day depending on the type of riding we were going to be doing. The next thing I did was to ask the others what they wanted to see and do, so that we all had something to look forward too. Armed with the information I set about marking paper maps with the points of interest and roads on the wish list along with countries we wanted to visit. Then with the help of google maps and my Garmin 350, which I had brought to help us on the last trip, I set about joining the dots. As it was now a family trip I also had to think about times, stops, fuel and hotels. Our touring convoy would be a real mixture. My brother would be riding his Victory Hammer S, my wife in her Porsche Boxster S, my son in his Honda Jazz and then me on my Triumph Speed Triple.

 

Finally with the route marked out and the total mileage calculated I could work out the rides for the days and the places we would stay each night. This was open to change until we had booked the hotels, so days riding and driving could increase or decrease depending on where the hotels could accommodate us.

After a family meeting, because the ride was too long, we agreed we would start a day earlier than planned. In fact it was only a half day just to get us down, through the Tunnel and into France, a journey of about 120 miles but it would make life a little easier over the first week. The accommodation was now booked, and it was a mixture of different star hotels to hostels, apartments and B+Bs. In total we booked 13 different retreats, over 14 days only staying in the same place once for two nights. This was probably the hardest thing to do. Everything was planned including 13 days of riding, one proper rest day to visit friends and pay our respects, plus two further rest days if needed.

The trip would take us from the UK into France then Belgium back into France then Italy, France, Switzerland, Italy, Austria, Italy, Austria Germany Luxemburg, Belgium France and Home covering some two thousand odd miles. But like everything in life, nothing is set in stone and as the weeks progressed and I researched a little more, little changes were made to add interest to our journey.

About 2 weeks before departing I was making one such change to our routes when my Garmin decided it no longer wanted to connect to the computer. I was now faced with a problem. I called Garmin and told them my situation. They gave me some clear instructions on how I might resolve the problem and said if all else fails, despite your unit being out of warranty we will replace it within 9 working day for a new one at the cost of £75. I set about trying to fix it with the instructions they had sent. All the days riding were already installed I didn’t want to lose them. After hours of messing about, the unit reluctantly, once again connected to the computer. I was still unhappy with the situation but with now only 9 working days left before we set off I wasn’t going to take the chance of the new unit not turning up in time.

Just to make sure that things would run smoothly I back very thing up in writing with directions, name places and road numbers and also took the old faithful paper maps.

Everything was now all set to go, all the vehicles had been serviced, route plans duplicated so everyone had a hard copy in case we got separated. Every vehicle also had a satnav with the postcodes for each hotel entered into its memory. All we had to do now was wait.