So picture this. At the campground, tent close to bike. You’ve been efficient and emptied the tent on the way out. There was no wind last night, so you didn’t bother pegging it except for the front door. You set up the stove to make coffee. Last night, it took to the third-to-last match to get the stove lighted for soup (who knows how old these matches are and things are a bit damp). You want to give the last…
It was the day of gorgeous gorges. The nice thing about following someone else’s route without any explanation is that I really have no idea what to expect every day so every wonder that I see is a fresh delight. Today was definitely that sort of day. Woke up to a bit of mist, making the campsite look magical and natural. At least from that angle. From the other all campers were still there. I left Castellane a wee bit…
The thing about motorcycling is that it’s about anything but a straight line. It’s also about the road, not the destination – I didn’t even have a putative destination for this trip, just a big circle. So, efficient people who wanted to get to Castellane from the gite would have taken 2h46m to do it. The route I had planned was about 8.5 hours. Of riding, not taking into account stops or detours. I haven’t actually planned these routes to…
As I left, I was very glad I hadn’t tried to keep going in the dark. After I left the lodge, it wasn’t long before I was on little mountain roads with no one on them, which wouldn’t have been fun at night, and I would have missed the scenery. Stopping was definitely the right choice, but now I was behind my route and would have to catch up. But this day would be challenging even if I’d started where…
On Tuesday, I got a late start due to getting, and reacting to, some undesired news. The road itself started pleasantly. Then a slog along a divided highway for a bit (sometimes unavoidable). Naturally no pictures of that, but here’s a pretty flower from a rest stop. Then off the highway into the Jura. It was fun to ride when I got away from other vehicles, but not all that exciting scenerywise (usually curvier than this!). Then a steep decline…
Say what you will about European campgrounds and their lack of nature and space, but sometimes they have bakery trucks. Of course, they also have people who treat it like their house, and parade around in their bathrobes, but, well, fresh pastries do offset that somewhat! I had woken up to a lovely morning at the campsite and chatted a bit to the British bikers next door on a quick blast through the Ardennes. First step, as always, is to…
Naturally, I didn’t leave on time. I didn’t actually leave until 4 pm. There was a time when packing for a trip was routine and I knew exactly what I needed and where it went. Of course, that is no longer the case. Everything lives in different places now, adapted to the things we do as a family. And I had to find again where it all goes on the bike. Yes, I should have done that in the days…
It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a proper motorcycle trip, and even longer since I’ve gone it alone. The last trip I took was just before we left Canada when I was pregnant with my now 11-year-old son. And I haven’t gone alone since Ivo came to join me in Canada. So, it’s time to go and just ride, with no particular destination in mind, although this time, for the first time ever, I’ve planned the route…
When reading the guide books for the Trans Siberian, they mention that the trip around the bottom of Lake Baikal should definitely be done in daylight. Since we weren’t going to sleep on the train this time, I booked 3rd class, which is open carriages, four on one side, and two on the other, with only curtains for privacy. I had also tried my best to figure out which way the windows would face, trying to get a lake view,…
Our minibus to Olkhon Island showed up a bit later than expected, and after picking up more passengers and making some other mysterious stops, we were on the road somewhat after 10:30. It’s really not very far, about 250 km to the ferry, but the road is rough, so it was 2:45 pm before we got there. And, for me at least, the ride was like an unsecured roller coaster – we were in the back row and I had…
After only our one night from Vladimir to Yekaterinburg, we felt like old hands getting back on the train. We found our car, had our meat-pie disappointment, and set up the cars for sleeping and got to bed, hushed to sleep by the rocking of the rails. When we woke in the morning, we faced another long hot day in the train. Luckily, despite it being the same car and the same compartment as the previous trip, we were now…
It was night time when we got to Yekaterinaberg and we were tired and hot and sticky as we piled out of the train and headed into the city to find our hostel. We found the metro, rode through its air-conditioned depths to our stop and followed the map I’d downloaded to our hostel. Only to find nothing there, no indication whatsoever. Ivo went off to ask at a local restaurant where our hostel might be, while we waited and…