Set off at 07.30 after a couple of false starts, should have packed last night instead of having a beer, no one else to blame but me, I always look forward to these first rides of the year, it’s the one I do without a stop, just so I know I still can, my own little test for myself if you like and was looking forward to this like no other, unaware of what tests the Dragon and the road had in store for me this trip. It was a steady ride down to Folkestone and the train, I arrived over an hour ahead of my scheduled departure, and they let me on the next train so I would be at least ½ an hour ahead of my expected arrival time in France, that’s always a good thing when doing the trip in one hop. I like to be at the cottage by midnight, bit like Cinderella, if I’m awake at midnight I wont be for long and sat on a bike is no place to sleep. Loaded on train and sat and waited and waited, then the announcement, the train will be delayed because of technical issues, old rolling stock that should have been replaced some years ago, cost cutting and it’s results, we departed ½ an hour later, so my gain was now a breakeven, no worries we have time. 35 minuets later we arrived in France, saddled up and sat and waited and waited, unfortunately the front car in line wouldn’t start so we spent another 15 minutes waiting for recovery and no we are told you cannot push it, it’s an insurance issue. We eventually roll off the train and point the bike south, after that is I filled at the usual underground gas station. I went against all my solo rules and used the toll road for the first 70 or so miles, that’s the A16 out of
Calais That will knock 1 hour off my time, but for the rest of the way it was A roads only, roads I have travelled many times and are familiar but still just as pleasing to travel. As the day closed the cold started to bite, so I decided to put my full wet suit on to keep some of the wind off, it did the trick and although not warm I wasn’t uncomfortable. Alan Bellis from the VRCC-UK had kindly given me a wrist rest for the throttle when I told him of the problems I was having and I found that a great help, my right wrist didn’t twinge as much as it had in the past, now if only I could get something for the knees, at the 500 mile mark or thereabouts my right knee started giving me some discomfort, I pushed on. Riding thru the night and I have finally upgraded my front lights with a pair of spots absolute bargain form another fellow VRCC-UK member, what is it Strider (VRCC-US) used to say, you “gotta love this club” Just south of
Saint-Aignan, on the D175 you’ll see the road unusually twists and turn, not a long stretch but long enough to enjoy, I always slow here if there are cars, I wait for a clear space and let it roll, tonight it was clear and I was shadowed by the very large red moon, kept sticking itself above the tree line, every corner I considered stopping and taking a picture, but thought better of it, fearing if I stopped and got off I might want to sleep so pushed on, I have the picture of that nights ride stored in MY memory, you will just have to imagine. The last 60 miles just rolled by and I arrived at the cottage at 22.30, 635 miles mostly A nd B roads no great miles but 15 hours in the saddle with the occasional stop for gas and a rest, well one stop for gas and a couple of rest stops, range of 400 between fills, can’t complain.
Next day was a quick shop and tidy of the garden, I popped around to Archie’s and had chat with Paul, mainly I was in need of someone to keep on top of the garden, just keep it looking something like, so I asked if he knew of anyone, said he’d gladly take care of it on a regular basis, nice result. Then I thought stairs? So I asked, he said he was sure between us we could sort it and would call later, I returned home to omelette and leffe (abbey beer) just as I finished eating true to his word Paul arrived, we took a look at the stairs and he said to let him know when I was back from Italy next week and he would call round, another result, I tell you life is good. Friday and I head south, I checked the GPS and it was advising 436 miles, I say advising because when I’ve got all day, any turn that takes my fancy is a turn I might take, I set off at 08.00, confident that I could travel back roads of back roads and get to that nights destination with time to spare. The weather was over cast but not too cold, but I’d be happier when, as was usual midday brought temps up into the late 50’s low 60’s, I wasn’t disappointed, I rolled further south. It’s difficult to ride south of in any direction now without finding yourself on dual carriageway or even motorway, especially if you use GPS, on this ride I used it as a guide but followed the sun or what there was of it and just pointed the Dragon south, we got to our expected 435 mile destination at just under 500 miles, down roads I’d be lucky to find again but if anyone wants to come over and help me look we could give it a go, well worth the effort. I passed town, can’t recall the name, but it’s main industry was wood, I knew before I could see, the smell was nearly over whelming, on first riding in, to exiting the other side, wood yard after wood yard, some full of oak, fresh cut and smelling as only oak can and some full of freshly cut pine planks. Further on there was an overwhelming smell of lilac, growing everywhere and in full bloom, then the lavender fields, what do they do with all that lavender? But again the smell was just fantastic. Again I was on familiar roads following signs for Gap and the pass thru the Alps
I’d booked a campanile for the night in
Aiglun, I arrived at about 17.30 about 100 miles out from Nice and a 2 – 3 hour ride, plenty of time to get there and settle the Dragon in before I collect Julie from the airport and we continue on the next stage of our journey. Paper thin walls in the hotel didn’t aid a restful nights sleep and I woke at my usual early o’clock, had breakfast and loaded the bike. I noticed my right front indicator wasn’t lit, I have them set as running lights and this one on the new spots had been giving me some trouble prior to the trip, so I flicked off the cover and tried to get the thing to light, no joy and I wasn’t about to start getting the headlight off and searching wiring, it would have to wait, everything else was good so I set off into the hills and the Napoleon route and on to Nice.
I arrived just before 12.00 and phoned Antoine, ex VRCC-FR member who had kindly offered to look after the bike while me and meJulie travelled on in a hire car, time was against us using the bike and we had to be where we had to be, in our Sunday best. Antoine dropped me at the airport where I met Julie, we picked up the car and 3.5 hours later we were in Italy at our destination, old converted monastery dating back to the 13th century in an old preserved town that well, oh go on take a look,
http://www.sangiovanniresort.it/gallery.aspx
real nice place it was. Spent two nights there, visiting, had some great food, a great time and well,
really grateful we could make this trip happen. Monday and we drive back to France, this time we took the none auto route roads and travelled the way we did last year on the bike, and I think we were both slightly glad we were in a car as the weather wasn’t the best. We arrived back in France and stay in another hotel, this time on the outskirts of Nice, ½ hour from the airport so an easy drive in on Tuesday. We off loaded the car, walked to departures with Julie, said out farewells and phoned Antoine for my lift back to the dragon and ride home, if I knew what lay ahead………….well, maybe I’d have gotten on the plane with meJulie and left the Dragon for another time. You know, I didn’t know Antoine prior, the introduction was thru the club, but he had taken a day off work so he could collect me from the airport and reunite me with the bike at a time that would allow me to arrive at that nights destination in good time, you meet the nicest people on a Honda, I owe the man BIG. Bike loaded and set off north, about oh 50 miles out of Nice I here a rattling sound, stop get off check front wheel, brakes, whatever, no sign of where this noise might be coming from, give a Gallic shrug and get back astride the bike. As I pull away and changing thru the gears, I go to shift into forth, click clunk and I’m back in third giving it a fistful, ease off the throttle and try again, click, clunk, same again, one more try, a bit slower and there we go I’m in forth and then fifth. Maybe my left hand was a little lazy and I wasn’t engaging the clutch or maybe I was shifting too quick, it does that sometime, usually finds a ghost natural, never back to 3rd but what the heck, I’m rolling along in 5th and happy. Then I hit the twists and turns that make the Alps such a pleasure, change down to forth, nothing, tap the shifter again I’m in third and now the rain had started. I’m still rolling on and trying to figure what’s going on then cars in front slow, I slow down into second, then the rattling starts, into first and stop, rattle rattle. So the rattle I heard earlier was gears not wheel or a stone or, well blow me, my first engine related problem on the Dragon, and up in the middle of the bloody alps of all places, I was so looking forward to riding these roads. So I stop, check gauges, temps oil and water OK oil pressure 4 BAR, VOLTS 13/14 and charging, ignition off. Check oil just on lower dipstick, OK and oil purchase to be on the safe side, next shop I see I stop. And away again, steady 1st 2nd 3rd all seems ok, 4th, grind, gentle pressure again upwards on lever, it’s as if there is no clutch, double click the lever and I’m in gear but it’s 5th, tap it down to 4th, nothing no drive no rattle just a neutral, so I struggle on for oh I don’t know how many miles, eventually I figure under load first second and third don’t rattle, forth isn’t there any more and fifth is as it has always been, equivalent to overdrive, it wont do anything other than maintain a speed, but at least it doesn’t make a noise. So the way I’m now riding is, keep 1 2 and 3 under load, giving it a fistful in three to get the revs up to double click into fifth. Now a reminder of where we are, up in the French Alps, for our American friends, you know “the dragon”, http://www.dealsgap.com/ You know how it twists and turns, you know it is what, 318 curves in 11 miles? You know all these things, the Alps, well no one has counted the twists and I was up there for over 260 miles and 7 hrs, it was going to be fun, it WAS interesting. I eventually arrived, sodden at
Laussonne And my hotel for the night, now have you got a minute here’s a tale. So, I get off the bike and walk in, like I say, looking like a drowned rat, guy behind desks says MICKMANCHSETER? He didn’t really he called me by my name, in French, I said I was, he said he “speak very petit english” then started talking in French but with an English accent, I’ve been told I used to do this but the other way around, anyway turned out his wife is not well and he was on his own tonight, and suggest I unload the bike and he will show me where the garage is, so this we do, put bike in garage and return to reception, he offers to take my wet gear and put it in the boiler room to dry. When he returns he shows me to my room, as he leaves I ask about the restaurant, “yes we are open, just let him know when I want to eat”, ok says I. I settle into my room get out of my wet clothes, rain like I had travelled thru, travels thru even the best wet riding gear and mine wasn’t the best. I then go to use my phone, I wanted to phone home, as I do every time I arrive at my daily destination, she worries meJulie, don’t know why, maybe it’s a woman thing, anyway I’ve got no signal, oh well I’ll go down to the bar and try there, any excuse for a drink. At the bar, the barman comes to serve me and he is the spiting image of the manager in fact, it is the same guy, mind the place was quiet, only me in. I still had no signal on phone, so I explained my predicament re phoning home and bike issues I wanted to relay and he gave me the hotel phone to use. I spoke to Julie and ask she contact Fifi VRCC-FR, and see if we could meet tomorrow and maybe get assistance for the bike, just in case. OK, that sorted I ask about food, ok this way says my host and leads me thru to the restaurant, he asks me to sit wherever I like and then brings the menu, I make a selection, a selection of three sample starters, steak for the main and I will decide on desert later, “and wine or more beer for sir” more beer says I. I am then left alone with my fresh pint of leffe and thought of the day, then I hear a bell ring, followed by footsteps coming up the stairs, the bell was the dumb waiter from the kitchen in the cellar, the footsteps were my host coming up from the kitchen having cooked the meal to now collect it from the waiter and serve to me, and very nice it was. When finished, my plates were taken, placed in the dumb waiter, and again I was left with my thoughts and an empty restaurant. A few moments later and the bell again rings, again my host appears having run up the stairs, goes to the dumb waiter collects a fresh fork and stake knife and places them on my table, he smiles and again leaves the room, about 5 minuets later the same thing happens, this time he lacked the spring in his step he first had, I think the stairs were catching up with him, anyway he gets my main course of steak and sides, brings it to my table and departs, the process is repeated for desert, oh and I choose, you know I can’t remember LOL, but all in all it was very good and very entertaining, I swear if I hadn’t have been there I’d have said it was a Monty python sketch, or at least should be. After eating I went back to the bar and had another beer, where my ever jovial host shared stories of a barn find of old bikes and cars, just around the corner, only recently and all with very low mileage, apparently from what I understand a military man, bought something each year and used it while on leave then next year bought something else and left last years purchase in the barn, got big barns in France, some items worth a load of money, they date from the mid seventies to mid eighties, and all this with my limited French and his limited English, I retired for the night with a smile on my face having been entertained. Next day I woke at 06.30 showered and was down to breakfast soon after 07.00, my host, yes same as last night came thru, explained what was on offer and left, a couple of minuets later he returned to let me know I had relieved a phone call, I took the phone knowing it could only be meJulie, she had spoken to Fifi and he would be just up the road later that day, so I was to phone him when I had a signal and we could meet. I then went back to my breakfast knowing that worst case scenario help was ½ hr and a phone call away. After breakfast I paid my bill loaded my bike and set of for my rendezvous with Fifi. I very soon got back into the new way of riding and hardly missed not having a forth gear, I’d also learned that it was less embarrassing to coast to a stop in fifth and stop before changing down to first, prior to moving away. I didn’t want folks to get the impression the bike was unwell, wouldn’t look good at all now would it? Over a coffee we chatted about various things all bike and VRCC related, Fifi gave me a contact number of a friend who could if necessary repair the bike and assured me if I had any difficulty I was to phone him for help, we parted with fingers crossed that I do not see him or any other French VRCC members before inZane in June. I headed back to the cottage, still determined to stay off the tolls but this time allowing myself to wander onto the occasional dual carriageway, I arrived in Bethines at about 13.30, called at Archie’s and agreed to meet Paul at Belonga Mick tomorrow at about 09.30 to sort stairs, and that my friends is where this story might end, but it doesn’t, oh no it doesn’t. Next day as promised Paul turns up at 09.30, by 13.00 we had sorted stairs and Paul had returned home for lunch, I told you all it needed was another pair of hands and a fresh mind.
I spent the afternoon cutting the grass and generally tidying, feeling happy that at least that unmanageable task was now complete. Last thing I decided to check the bike over and load up ready for an early start tomorrow, I’m thinking leave about 08.00 arrive Calais for train around 14.00 with a view to arrive home for around 22.00 (21.00 UK time). Oh if life was that simple, I looked at front indicator again having decided I might have time to maybe remove headlight and sort the rouge indicator, think again. When I checked the lights, I had now lost the rear lights as well, one of the implications of that was I also had no indicators, at all, so what I was looking at was, no rear lights, no indicators and a left front indicator still operating as a running light, ie permanently light and aglow, all alone LOL. So I’m into the wiring in the side panel, all lives that should be live are, in fact everything in there is good, remove rear indicator lance covers and check, as suspected no power, at all anywhere at the rear, so it’s got to be connector under mudguard (rear fender) no tools to get there so this is a no fix. So again a change of plan, I need to be safely tucked away home before lighting up time tomorrow, so in by about 19.00 – 19.30, that’s doable just set of early, after sunup, say about 07.30, get as early a train as possible and, yes steady ride home. So an early night was in order, I finished loading the bike and cleaned the cottage, got everything ready for the early start, set the alarm clock by the bed for 06.30 and retired at about 22.00, fitful sleep I suppose is how it might be described, but eventually I was shocked into life by the unrecognisable sound of the alarm going off, those that know me know my philosophy, I eat when I’m hungry I sleep when I’m tired and I ride when I want too, alarm clocks don’t usually figure. So any way after this rude interruption, to what I’m not saying, I get up, put some part baked bread in the oven make some coffee and shower, as I’m settling down to watch the French weather channel I notice the time 04.30, you kidding me? I went in the bedroom, the clock said 06.45 next to it, my travel clock said 04.30, I must have altered the time on the alarm clock when I set the alarm, note to self, practice setting alarm clock. Never mind and early start is what’s required and better to be on the road in France with no lights and no cars than on the crazy UK roads in the early evening failing light, I was on the road by 05.45. It was cold but dry, I had put on my wet gear as a protection from that, rather than the risk of rain, that didn’t look likely till, oh, north of Rouen and that’s if I was unlucky, I was. I probably wasn’t far past Saint-Aignan, remember the twisty bit of road on the way down? Well never mind the heavens opened and it rained, I’m talking monsoon here, visibility down to well not far. That stayed with me till just short of joining the A16 at Abbeville, yes I’d given up again and decided to take the toll for the last stretch in France, getting soft in my old age. LOL. So I eventually arrive at Calais for the train, think it was about 12.30, not bad going all things considered and all being well I’ll be on an early train, no such look, heightened security, searches and checks going on like I had never seen, all border points open to try to relieve the strain, but with so many being stopped…………….I didn’t get the train till after 14.00. Got off the UK side and the weather was dry, I’d made a quick call to meJulie and she said don’t get my hopes up it was raining up north, I kept my wet gear on, not that it was serving any purpose now other than stopping the wind from freezing a sodden body, I headed wearily up a congested M20 towards and even more congested M25, splitting lanes as the rains started just south of the Dartford tunnel. Then around the M25 onto the M1 and here it was lashing it down, you could only just see the car in front and me with no rear lights. I figured the best thing to do was keep with the flow and try and monitor more what was going on behind as well as in front. 8 miles from the M6 and on the Southside there had been a crash, all lanes shut, and as is the case, northbound gridlocked with the rubberneckers, I’m splitting lanes and trying to make as much progress as possible, most moved sideways one or two deliberately blocked my progress, I waved politely at them in a defiant gesture, that at least I was moving, they were going nowhere and fast. When I arrived at the hold up it looked bad, young lady trapped in driver’s seat, car had been made a sandwich, the queue on the south side travel back over 8 miles and up the M6, which I now joined. I had now lost all track of time, all I knew was I had to keep making progress and get home before the light went, I’d be an easy target with no rear light in weather, that if it was possible was getting worse. My visor was misting so I stopped at a services and cleaned it as best I could, that gave me a short lived period of visibility that I made the most of to relax and push on. South of Birmingham with just over 100 miles to go I seriously considered booking a room, the only thing that stopped me was the thought of putting on wet cloths in the morning before I had to continue the trip home, no, I pressed on. I arrived home at 20.00 hrs. wet isn’t an adequate description but will have to suffice for now, I fell sideways off the bike, having put the side stand down, stripped all my wet gear off in the garage, then went upstairs to get in a hot bath just run by meJulie, while she got on with putting a pizza in the oven and pouring a beer. I’m sure one day I’ll look back on this trip and smile, and I know what parts I’ll be smiling about and what parts I’ll choose to forget, for now it’s maintenance time. Till next time, keep safe Mick
