I awoke at 4.30 after one of the warmest September nights in a long time where temperatures hadn’t fell below 15 degrees and was now rising as the day began. I still put on my thermal vest and jeans over my leathers deciding to leave the union suit off but still wrap up just in case, on this small island the weather can change in the turn of a corner as I was going to find out next Saturday but for now I was looking at a 750 mile bike ride thru England and down thru France, today was going to be a good day…………………………
Before I go on, did you know a word underlined is a link, usually place name to Google maps, will put them in when I remember, and gives a clue as to where I am, so to continue.
At 6.30 in the morning it’s a breeze getting out of the city, the commuters still tucked up in their beds for the most part with very little traffic on the roads. I still choose in the UK to drive any distance on the motorways rather then the A and B roads I’d be using in France, not so much because I want to make fast progress, I’d still hold my speeds down to around the 60 mph even though the limit is 70 and up to 70 to 80 is, well shall we say not overly punished by the law allowing for the 10% plus three rule, remember 10% because the speedometer is probably out by that much and plus 3 cause that’s what they will (discretionally) allow you. No it’s not because I want to open the dragon up and speed as quickly as I can from this overly populated island, no it’s because of that this small island is over populated with little distance between towns and areas of conurbation and that’s something I don’t enjoy, riding thru towns and cities when rush hour begins at 7am and ends at 7pm, no the motorway will do me, just sit back and enjoy the breeze while watching the now awake commuters rush to the chairs and chains to start another day “working for the man”, wow Michael, slow down I can see philosophy rising it’s head leave that for Zen and the art, it’s been getting better for us for a long time.
Just before Birmingham the M6 splits and here I have a choice, toll road or old road the toll for a motorcycle is £3 (when this road opened oh not so long ago it was only £2.50 for a car) I usually don’t use this road as for the few miles length I think the charges though once fair are now excessive, but on this occasion and judging by the amount of traffic queuing to turn left and onto the old road I decided I’d take the new and less travelled road.
Wise move and I sailed along a half deserted road to rejoin the old M6 in no time at all.
I like to chunk down the UK side of my travels, M6 toll being first yard stick, then it’s the M1 intersection, I always find the M1 boring, I mean more so than any other motorway, don’t know what it is, just bores the life out of me. This is followed by the M25 clockwise around London Dartford crossing. South the Thames is crossed by a high level bridge, north you use the old tunnel and go under the Thames, as an interesting aside this stretch of road is not a motorway, interestingly the M25 although claimed to be the first orbital motorway in the UK it was not and still is not, useless information but until an act of parliament was passed prior to building the M6 Birmingham toll to bypass that great city, it was unlawful to stop traffic on a motorway for anyone other than emergency services, so rather than sort an act of parliament for the M25 they just left a 2 mile stretch of road classified as an A road, as a further aside now they have permission to stop traffic on the motorway we now live with the ridiculous situation where we have trafic lights actually on the slip road where you join the motorway, but I digress, lets get back to this trip.
Just before the bridge there is a service station and I took the opportunity to get off and feed myself, just a light burger and a drink and I was back on the road, I didn’t need to fill the Dragon as I still had a couple of gallons left in the tanks, I’d take care of that just before I get to the tunnel.
So it was over the bridge and onward towards the last stretch that is the M20, at the top of the bridge I had a bit of a fright, just past a lorry and a gust of wind caught me, took the tank bag half off and was strong enough that I nearly inadvertently changed lanes, this worked to my advantage as the trafic usually makes a dash for the toll booths but the cars to my right seeing this sudden change in direction by the mad man on the bike decided to stay back and allow me to choose my lane in my own time. This toll for bikes is free, there is quite a queue and I suppose stopping a bike and waiting while the rider gets his money out to pay his £ will be too much of a delay for the other users so for us it’s free, you just arrive at the booth man lifts barrier and away again.
From there it was a continuing steady ride around to Folkestone and the train, I was making good progress. I don’t use a watch, again for old time followers you’ll know my philosophy on that “time is mans burden”. I check the time I set off, allowing enough time to get to a set destination but not being governed by it, if I’m late I’m late, if early I’m early, “life can be as simple or as complicated as you make it, me I like simple”. So on this occasion my body clock is telling me I am making good progress and will be ahead of my allotted travel time, sure enough I arrive at the terminal with three hours to spare, in all honesty I’d planned that, I’d elected to buy a later ticket, allows some breathing space but also covers the chance of being asked to pay extra as I am travelling at a more expensive time should I arrive early, the ticket I’d purchased was the most expensive on the day, £35 one way.
When I arrived at the booth to book in I’m informed I will have to wait for my allotted train as because of earlier cancellations all trains are full, OK again I’d calculated that I’d still arrive at the cottage before the midnight hour, no I’m not Cinderella and the Dragon wont turn into a pumpkin but for some reason if I’m awake at midnight I wont be for long, body just shuts down at 12, I can push on beyond that but it becomes more and more tedious.
So I ride around to the car park and wait, while I’m sat waiting a couple pull in on a BMW, we get chatting and I learn they are looking for the sun and reckon Spain’s a good bet so that’s where the’re heading. I noticed his ticket was a letter before mine and he said he’d been informed all trains were delayed ½ an hour and how he wished he’d pre bought his ticket as he had paid £85 on the gate, this I found a little annoying as I’d been told all trains full yet ½ an hour later they can put a cash paying passenger on an earlier train, seems to be the way of business these days, like banks special offers open to new customers only, old loyal customers are stuck with what they’ve got, me as a frequent traveller block book tickets 12 months up front and then get knocked back so a cash payer once a year traveller can board before me.
As it was we travelled around to the terminal together and when we got to the ticket check they just asked him what letter he was and assumed we were travelling together so we both got on the same train, incidentally the carriage we were in was half empty so there was room for another 4(at least) bikes so the others that weren’t cheeky enough to follow could have made this train, never mind in 45 minutes I’ll be in France and my ignorance of their laws and language will be a refuge from the madness.
We rode the first 15 or so miles of the duel carriage way together but then as it split, one way for the toll the other for the old unclassified roads we parted with the BMW riders taking the toll and me taking my usual right turn along the road more travelled, they had a destination, me I was going to enjoy the journey.
For the most part the ride to Rouen, though not toll road the roads have been upgraded and have long stretches of 4 lane almost motorway sections, it was on the first of these sections I pulled off for a brew and a sandwich lovingly made by meJulie that morning. My mileage was about the 350 mark and I have to say at this stage I was feeling no ill effects from the sitting on the bike for so long, I had started to ache on the M20 but my arrival in France had given me a new lease of life and I felt refreshed and was looking forward to the next few hours, just me, the Dragon and the road.
I packed my brew gear away and once again got astride the bike and headed south. Rouen arrived and disappeared along with a few other towns I’ve now become familiar with, eventually the sun went down and the moon became our companion (do you like that) after about an hour of riding in the dark I decided I’d have to upgrade my light this coming winter as it was getting a little difficult in parts to get a clear view especially when the moon hid behind a cloud.
Unlike the UK ride I don’t need to chunk the France ride, rather I just let the road roll under the bike and enjoy the wind, as 600 miles rolled over on the milometer the base of my spine began to ache, surprisingly not my knees, I decided to get off and have a stretch, it was not really surprising as I had first got astride the Dragon that morning at 6.30am and now it must be approaching 11pm, not far to go, I had picked up the “BIS Limoges” signs a few miles ago, always the sign I’m nearly home, for anyone not familiar with French travel, these are tourist routes that dissect the country and if ever you want to experience travelling thru France away from the rush pick one and ride it, it’s like time travel, going back 20 or even 30 years they haven’t arrived in the 21st century yet, nice.
As I turned into the drive at the cottage I noted with pleasure how short the grass was, it had only been a few weeks since our last visit but it was nice to arrive to a lawn that only just needs cutting, an event we hoped would be regular but unfortunately you just can’t get the staff, oh well, that was then.
A quick look up at the carriage clock on the mantle tells me it’s 11.30 French time, one hour ahead of UK so that’s 16 hours on the road and 750 miles, a good days ride. I went thru my usual procedure of turning on the electric and water before routing out the second sandwich made by Julie along with a beer from the fridge settled down on my favourite chair, no I didn’t sleep there after another beer I went to bed and slept like a baby.
I’ve split this into two, second part will be posted weekend.
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