I’m not sure whether to be disappointed (because some of the speakers are cool – Like Lois Pryce) – or relieved (is that what academics are really like? – oh no!) to have missed this conference.
Here’s a great video of this conference held at Chelsea College of Art and Design, University of the Arts London in July 2013
IJMS Conference + Exhibition 2013 from IJMS on Vimeo.
In 2014 its in Colorado so I probably won’t be going.
First ride for four weeks – on a motorcycle that is.
BBC Radio have a series of short conversations that they call The Listening Project. The key is something powerful in a short conversation often between family members though sometimes friends. Loss and love are frequent themes. I noticed this one:
Itchy Feet – Ian and Judith
last week. Its a slightly strained conversation between what you’d have to call an elderly couple – from Yorkshire. The introduction is something like: he went off travelling on his Honda motorcycle for a four month trip and returned to his wife 14 years later (can it really be true?). Now he is planning his next trip. He’s 70. He talks about getting his visas for Russia and Mongolia, sounding like he is following in many overland motorcyclists’ wheel tracks. ‘I’m fit as a butcher’s dog’, he says, ‘when my hip gets mended’. ‘I’ll tell you, I’ve spent more time in a tent than t’Indians’.
Just for completeness, here are the last stages of the journey home, to be fleshed out later:
I slept poorly on the boat,
in fact I slept badly for the whole trip! Gathering down on the very lowest deck as the boat came in to Portsmouth was a nice opportunity to chat to the others with bikes.
They were a pleasantly friendly and interesting group which restored my positive feelings towards bikers. There were at least 4 other 1200gs bikes there including the new water cooled model which its owner was very pleased with though the electric suspension turfed him off the bike when his pillion got off for the first time, he said. We made it up the very steep ramp and then I sped out of the port and up onto the motorway and up the A3 to the M25 at a really good pace. The bike’s fuel gauge has not been its strongest feature and it is on its third one since I’ve owned it. Telling me I had 66 miles left, then 68 then 72 miles should have made me stop for petrol but I thought I could make the next stop apparently 25 miles away. But of course I ground to a halt by the exit to the M40 and had to be rescued and re-fuelled by the RAC – the first time I have called them out.
I also learnt that 40 minutes of leaving the ignition on to keep the hazard lights flashing drains the battery to a point where it needs an on-hand RAC person’s charger to get the engine going.
When riding in the rain in Spain, water leaked into the tiny hole in the GPS screen (caused by me dropping it a couple of years back). So the route only starts from after I filled up with petrol near Uxbridge and is inaccurate.
Coming home at EveryTrail
Eventually, after stopping for something to eat at South Mimms on the A1 – which seems more like a business meeting centre than a motorway service station, I got home by 4pm.
I have to say I was exhausted – and still am. But It was a successful trip and most of the lessons I learnt from my last trip to Sweden I was able to put in to practice.
From Potes to Laredo at EveryTrail
Saturday! 7th
Well, it rained yesterday evening so I got into my sleeping bag and tried to sleep but the rain kept me awake until it stopped some time shortly after dark. This morning its damp and cool. The showers are thankfully short though my flimsy travel towel is getting damper – in fact everything is getting grubby now. Its now that you yearn for those simple pleasures of a nice bed, bathroom, bath towels and a proper kitchen. But the roughing it is part of the fun – honestly. I bought some fresh bread from the shop and have my little jam containers purloined from the hotel for breakfast with a cup of tea (tea bags with dried milk – but its fine). It was delicious. It seems to have taken nearly the whole holiday to find fresh food. I shall stay put today, maybe walk into Potes (its 4k) and head off to the coast tomorrow, Sunday. I also read most of Venture into the Interior. Its interesting to have a parallel journey going on in my imagination. It gives some added status to my venture to Spain.
Before I left an extremely garrulous Dutch man engaged me in conversation. He is here, he said, because he won a competition to see the final stage of a cycle race around Spain. He said last night he met two girls down in Potes, half his age, who told him about a party which he accompanied them to. He says he got back to the site at 6am. He says he is an oil and grease salesman. He is travelling with two tents and was living life on this site in a large four person tent, though he showed me, just after I had got my earplugs in and helmet on, his spare tent, a Coleman 3 person tent packed up that weighed 5kgs.
Sunday 8th
The last campsite probably at Laredo. The ride was fine, just under 100 miles, first of the Picos road going north from Potes, then some nice coast road where the sun came out and then, the unavoidable motorway going from near Santander over towards Bilbao. Despite having the coordinates for this place, I got taken down unpromising roads into industrial estates before finally deciding to just look for signs and follow them. So I arrived. It’s a bit unprepossessing to start with. For sure it is right by the Parque Natural estuary/beach but there’s a peerless fence around it and it is a rather full slightly down at heel family site for the Spanish. The site owner pointed out that there are tables scattered around the site and that I should camp next to one. Actually they are sinks – washing up sinks and I am right next to one of them. They are useful, very useful to cook on, to wash up conveniently, get water to drink and cook, but incredibly ugly. Its ok. And the sun came out for a while and the temperature rose to 29. While I can see that back in the mountains there is dark cloud and rain. So I think it was a good move to come out to the coast. A British couple and a young Spanish couple have arrived since I got here. I’m looking forward to some good walks by the sea tomorrow.