Hmm. Nice idea. I wonder what this does:
These intrepid motorcycle travelers published a nice map of their journey to Ukraine on Spotwalla. It seems you can do it without one of those nice but expensive SPOT gadgets. It seems an iPhone would do but maybe it would cost a fortune in roaming charges.
biking
Riding to Odense, Denmark
In May 2011, my friend Niels Buus, is organising the next In Sickness and in Health Conference in Odense, Denmark. Its a kind of nursing and healthcare meets Foucault and friends. Its an opportunity to take Bertha onto mainland Europe again. You can take the DFDS ferry from Harwich to Esbjerg and ride less than 100 miles to Odense but the fare is over £300. This time my thought is maybe to take the much cheaper ferry to Hook of Holland and ride up there through northern Germany which I’ve never visited but which I’ve heard is uninteresting apart from Hamburg. Its about 340 miles from the Hoek to Hamburg. Here’s the route calculated by Motowhere. This part is 336 miles.
And here’s the route from Hamburg to Odense. This part is 187 miles.
Revit Air summer motorcycle Jacket review
Riding round southern France in my trusty Hiene Gerrike jacket last month caused me to sweat buckets – leading to dehydration perils. The proprietor of the ‘biker’ hotel I stayed in told me her husband wore a BMW Airflow jacket in the hot weather, so I turned to the source of advice and opinion, ukgser.com and then in turn dallied a while on the BMW clothing internet pages toying with the idea of splashing out over £800 on that strange BMW Rallye pro suit that makes you look like a Lego person while simultaneously emptying your wallet/bank account.
Luckily just one person on the UKGS owners’ site mentioned that he found such apparel unbearably hot in Morocco, and recommended another jacket made by a company I’d never heard of, Revit, so I headed to Bykebitz.co.uk and picked up the Revit air for 114 squids. Its such a light jacket, I could hardly believe it when it arrived. Today I took it for a short test this warm and slightly humid afternoon. It is actually cool. Unlike most motorcycle jackets, its designed to let the air in and it does it beautifully. Its comfortable and fits well and looks, well, ok.
It has CE approved armour at the elbows and shoulders and a back protector, though I wouldn’t mind upgrading this as soon as possible as this seems to be quite lightweight. So far I’d recommend it. I’m not sure how much abrasion protection it would supply but I’m quite prepared to believe that a hot jacket that causes you to lose fluid and feel uncomfortably hot is not entirely safe either.
Now the question is, can I find some good textile trousers that match. Trying to peel off my heavy leathers at the end of a hot day was something I refrained from writing about in my travel diary.
Les Gets, July 6th
Yesterday I rode the 195 miles over to Les Gets where my friend Geoff owns an apartment. The ride was again through some lovely mountainous terrain though I stuck to the main routes in spite of tolls which a lot of people seem to avoid paying leaving the motorways quite empty. Les Gets is a busy little town dominated by sports and outdoor activities, small groups of cheeky children led by slightly irritated youth leaders, and lots of shops selling such nice looking stuff that it makes you want to take up each of these sports.. There are also lots of restaurants and shops selling regional food. So it feels very thriving and there are some English voices on the street. As you can imagine it was a relief to get here and get really clean and wash my clothes in a washing machine so that they come out smelling nice! I’m really looking forward to going out for a meal. I’ve been eating frugally for a little too long. Even last night we had bread and cheese which is nice at first (the cheeses are lovely) but I am getting sick of.. At Geoff’s invitation and partly to rise to the challenge I parked my bike in the damp underground car park down a steep and twisty ramp. I’m already wondering about how well I will drive it out again.
After a week on my own I hear my voice now in conversation with another human and today there is the negotiation about how we spend the time which I just had not thought about in advance. Last night, in spite of being on a nice firm mattress (i.e. not on the ground) I didn’t sleep that well. One or two things were on my mind. Tomorrow evening is when I have arranged to arrive at Severine and family in Geneva, so for once I have nearly two days to decide how to fill. This is a novel experience and reminds me how the travelling each day and camping means I’ve been able to avoid those kinds of decisions.
Les Gets
I’m at Geoff’s appartment in Les Gets after 195 miles of easy riding. I remember arriving before he arrived and picking up the key from a secret place.
Maybe that’s what I need – a network of flats and friends over Europe. That would make much more sense than the endless riding from campsite to campsite. I need to work on it.
I’m still in Severac de L’eglise
Today went so much better than yesterday. Yesterday I covered just over 100 miles but what hot and exhausted by the time I got to Lourdes and in no mood to look around much carting my helmet and heavy jacket. Thats one of the dilemmas of biking around. Is it about actually seeing places or more about the achievement of making the miles? Today I started off at half past eight with a wet load of luggage from the night before into the damp air. I chose fast N roads and motorways to get some distance so I’m now just one night away from Les Gets. My only minor disaster is tthat I left my washing line behind at the first campsite so now am decorating my motorbike with wet socks and underwear. This is a beautiful evening here and a welcoming campsite. I waiting to see which direction the shade was moving before pitching here this afternoon. I ate my delicious Baztan cheeze (the man that sold it to me told me it was beautiful and he was right) and finished my bottle of wine. Rodez I wonder is medieval, perched high up with its large church the highest point. Like many French villages I’ve passed through, this one is completely deserted. There is just one unattended black dog and the muffled sound of people behind shutters. The wind blows through the youthful silver birches planted here by the restaurant and terrace bar. I plan to visit one or other later. Then tomorrow further in a north easterly direction and find a campsite with an attractive description. I think I have cracked the Alan Rogers campsite code with its faint praise which probably means – crap.
After tomorrow I have three nights in civilisation – i.e. in a bed in a house with human company.
