Meeting Ted Simon – big fish in a small pond

Sunday 31st May was an opening at The Adventure Bike Shop down in Suffolk, in Acton, not to be confused with the ghastly Acton in west London where I once worked as a Health visitor. What drew me down there was the hope of meeting and talking to the father of motorcycle travel writing Ted Simon who was billed to be giving a talk. (Read the first paragraph of that biography in the link and you will see that he is an old fashioned person. I don’t think young people go to Paris and ‘fall into journalism’ as he did. Or maybe they do – hopefully). After killing time fingering some Touratech products and trying on a Nexx XD1 helmet (more about that some other time) I wandered into the small marquee where Ted was speaking. He had a computer perched on his lap, was holding a microphone in one hand and every now and then tried to open a bottle of Coke with the other without putting down the mic, giving up and forgetting about it for a while. Because, of course, I respect him so much I was riveted by his account of his memories of both of his travels. His lap top was misbehaving and I wondered why doesn’t one of the organisers sort it out? Ted must have recounted these events and his responses to them many many times by now and there was perhaps a slight sense of weariness – not about having to do the show one more time but, I think, that the world had changed so much since his first trip in the 1970s. I think he is still astonished that his books have brought him such fame. He commented, ‘you don’t have to be clever to be safe on a journey like this, you just have to have the right attitude, one of humility. In fact you can be stupid but if you have some humility rather than the arrogance that can come with stupidity, you are likely to be safe’.

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After he had finished I made a quick move to the front and offered him my copy of what must have been a short run, “Riding Home” published by Penguin, (not Riding High as I presume it was later retitled) to sign.

Riding Home by Ted Simon

Ted commented that that edition was not well made but I said it was not badly written. I said that I was sure he was tired of people complementing his writing but added mine. He replied that he had no problem with complements but never knew how to reply to them. I ventured to tell him that I thought his motorcycle writing was unusual in that he actually had interesting and intelligent things to say and he replied, “well, I’m a big fish in a small pond”. That was not the frank answer I expected but I can see that he is aware of the truth of it. I was pleased to have met him. He is over eighty I think, and its unlikely we will meet again – he lives in America. In fact I had tears in my eyes as I turned and walked away, and got on my bike.

The Adventure Bike Shop is only 35 miles and a lovely ride away from Cambridge, just past the beautiful Long Melford. Afterwards I rode through some more beautiful countryside to Ipswich to visit Andrew. I was starving as I had had no lunch and ate nearly all the delicious home made biscuits that someone had brought him. Andrew’s show at Arthouse1 is on my Flickr site here. Andrew was not well enough to attend.

The ride home was a simple blast down the A14 where the bike showed me that it is far happier breaking the speed limit than Bertha.

Adze route to Ipswich via Acton

A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night

This film by Iranian director Ana Lily Amirpour, came to a cinema near me last night. I loved it, especially for the beautiful wide screen black and white and the sound track, curated by the director (who according to Mark Kermode is an ex-DJ). (You can find posts of the music on Youtube). This film breaks genre categories: its very darkly lit and nocturnal noir, its horror and romance, all set in a dystopian supposedly Iranian town called Bad City, though filmed in California.

This is a masterful scene that reminds me of the bar scene in Wings of Desire where Bruno Ganz and Solveig Dommartin (who died of a heart attack at age 45) meet face to face. See here for an interview with SD about that amazing scene. In fact there are very many movie references, direct (the scene from the moving car near the end reminded me of Lost Highway for example) and indirect, with the mood of Nosferatu in places or the industrial background of Eraserhead. The lead is played by cute Sheila Vand. Though a little predictable/corny/romantic in places, it is wonderful and worth seeing.

Sorting a few teething problems on the BMW r1200GS TE and Navigator V

Not a very inspired ride, though enjoyable all the same. The aim was to sort out a few problems with the bike and GPS. First my new bluetooth headset (Interphone F3MC), unlike my five year old trusty Interphone F4, works properly with the BMW Nav V GPS that came with the bike instead of the intermittent loud hissing just when you need to know whether to turn left or right you can hear Emily lound and clear, second: one old pair of prescription sunglasses lets me actually see the GPS screen better than the new ones – their polarising must be slightly different, so those two things are really important to get sorted before going on a trip to foreign lands and inevitably getting lost and frustrated. Last, I worked out how to adjust the gear shift so that I can wear my huge motocross boots on the bike.

I spent many happy hours searching for bluetooth headset reviews. Sena seemed a good make and build highly specified intercoms, but reviews are very critical and about basic construction. Scores of people complain that a small plastic tab used to fasten the headset to the helmet breaks very quickly and in addition to that, it seems that the unit is ok in light showers but when it rains heavily water gets inside and it stops working. I find this astonishing. For me Interphone is tried and tested, though even that has some problems playing music from the Nav V. But it works in the rain, having ridden many hundreds of miles in pouring rain, I know that about the make. Crucially it is firmware upgradable via USB. My old one probably stopped working properly because it couldn’t be.

The back roads to Ipswich

Today I attempted the scenic route over to Ipswich to see my old friend Andrew Vass who is unwell. I am getting to know the bike but the Navigator V GPS is beyond me at the moment and I am thwarted in its use. For a start it does not talk nicely to my ageing bluetooth earphones (new ones on order), so a typical instruction is, ‘at the roundabout [loud hiss]’. Second, it clearly has a polarised screen because when I put my polarising prescription sunglasses on, the screen instantly turns blank. To see anything on it I have to tilt my head through at least 45 degrees. Finally I don’t understand how Basecamp routes turn into anything you are obliged to follow on the GPS. At junctions it shows you any number of optional turnings simultaneously and even a BMW GS can’t go in more than one direction at a time.

On the way back, I resorted to putting in the names of towns I remembered were on the route back and ended up with a beautiful sunny evening ride avoiding all main roads, absolutely ideal. The trip was 61 miles out and 59 coming back – strange.

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New Touratech luggage

A bit clunky yes?

Finally I’ve fitted this Touratech luggage so going somewhere on this bike this summer is a step closer. It is beautifully made and highly specified and anodised finish as opposed to bare aluminium which discolours easily as I discovered with my old BMW ‘adventure’ panniers. However, I think those old panniers fitted to my old 2007 Adventure made a better job of locking to the bike and locking themselves. These otherwise very nice Zega Pro 2 panniers have very fiddly lock mechanisms of needless complexity. At least I asked for a set that all opened with the same key. See this nice review of ammo can panniers. I love it.

Arriving in Ljubliana

As the train moved into Slovenia the landscape and the buildings became distinctly alpine, in fact the changing view from the carriage was stunning, snow topped mountains and wooded hills. And the trend from dilapidation to attention and repair continued. By the time we arrived at Ljubliana, not the train’s last stop, it was dark. Most of our travelling has been at night so it was good to witness this changing landscape. The stations have also got less hassling as a we’ve travelled west and Ljubliana was open and quiet and the evening was balmy.

We had good instructions to walk to the Atticus B&B, straight down from the station, over the Dragon bridge and then second left. Our instructions said that the key had been left in a box in the courtyard so it was a relief to find it there and that it let us into a stately solid building that used to be a boarding school and up the stone stairs into the top floor and into a small room with a ceiling made up largely of Velux windows.

The place was freshly built into the eaves of this grand building with newly installed bathroom, a change from the previous night’s adequate but not quite working I.e. Leaky facilities in Belgrade B and B. We spent a bit of time up there, eating another picnic dinner on the night of our arrival and went back there for an afternoon nap and shower the next day (it was really warm weather).
The main thing about Ljubliana is its perfect size… in fact its all a little too perfect. Endless beautiful outdoor bars and restaurants, the nicest ones lining the sides of the river, lots of boutiques and clothes shops (I bought some Crocs and a pair of Afghani trousers).
One nice memory was eating grilled sardines with white wine in plastic cups from a van by the market. Another and final nice memory was discovering the addresses of a wine merchant that stocked good Slovenian and other regional wines. The evening before the day we were due to leave for Zurich we visited and asked advice for a good sparkling wine to take on the train with us. After an initial slight grump we won over Mr wine and the next evening, on the way to the station, visited and bought it (an Italian wine made with the Champaign method), along with a generous supply of ice. Opening this, and drinking it, on the train as we pulled out of Ljubliana was one of the holiday’s pleasures.


The view from the more interesting than you’d think castle.

The cabin was the most modern but not the most spacious and doing anything involved playing jig saw (that’s not the right game) with our bags.

The next morning we arrived firmly back in the West, in Zurich, busier but cleaner than most of the Eastern European stations.

From Zurich, after a quick strong coffee and croissant, we took the three hour train to Geneva.

The final part of the travel was my flying back from Geneva to Gatwick – the Easyjet flight left 5 hours late, something that none of the rail systems of Eastern Europe did. Every train left on time and there was only one delay.