Well, I can't believe that it's already been a few weeks since we all got back off the trip. The big bump back to earth is starting to fade into a distant memory for all of us...but not to fear as we will be reliving it all in just a few short weeks time and we want all of you to be there with us.That's right - Team Enduro are holding their final fundraiser on the 8th November @ The Berkeley Arms, Spetchley, Worcestersire. This will be a chance for us to show you some of the fantastic photos from the trip and for you to hear all about our adventures, from crazy fishermen in Sweden to Mike falling down a hole in Albania. Of course, the most important thing about this party is the charities. We are all really pleased at how much we have raised so far (our total will be announced at the party) but we want MORE! So buy a ticket and come along for a great night of photos, food and fun!We are also really pleased to announce that the party will feature live music by The Bullfrog Project so don't forget to wear your dancing shoes!To purchase a ticket please click on the **party** link to the left!Thanks!Sarah.
Riding into the Phoenix training ground this morning, I choked up again as Leigh and Tony greeted us with a big grin and handshake. The sun had come out for the occassion along with Helen of Castledown Radio who will be using some of today's interview over the coming weeks. (other press don't get out of bed on a sunday and so will be using our e-mailed words and our photos in articles, so an extra big well done to Helen for being more professional!)
We spent the morning chatting with all of the Phoenix gang present, who feel more like our second families now, and drinking coffee until the time seemed right for the ride to be completed.
My trusty Colin Aprili-oops 650cc carried me faithfully over the remaining couple of miles as Sarah and Flick followed on Phoenix bikes, complete with 'L'-plates. Choked once again, I had to fob off tourists that were asking me to take their photo for them so that we could pose for a couple of our own pictures. A huge thanks to those that were there to see us finish, but as expected the finish felt massively depressing after such an awesome adventure during which such a vast number of people have really made our modest ride so special. Being offered the world by those who owned nothing and shown amazing hospitality by everyone we met was extremely humbling and has given us a drive to go and see more and re-visit those who were so generous. Over-populated Britain has a natural beauty of its own that so many are too busy working to buy iPods ad flatscreen to notice, and it is for this reason that our journey has been so magical - to see areas free from Capitalism and people whose wants are to be happy and not to be rich.
The ride over, we headed for a slightly spaced-out English fry up in a bid to begin the re-gaining of 2.5 stone that I have managed to carelessly lose somewhere en route. The final piece in my personal jigsaw was completed at 4.30pm when I rode up to the Chateau Impney hotel to meet my parents, as we had done on that 1st morning back at the end of July when, the ride having started, we grabbed a coffee before spending a manic morning repairing 2 broken bikes on the route to Newcastle. Then it was time to go home, compile some photos, think about writing a book and look for a job....!
Thanks again to everyone involved, whether you provided help, sponsored a charity simply followed the ride or some other form of involvement that I haven't thought of.
Thanks too to the bikes Cheese (who has decided to go into hibernation and wouldn't start this morning to ride to Stonehenge!), Sparky (who has gone into retirement on the coast of Italy, maybe to return to England in the next few weeks) and Colin (my trusty bike who is now looking into 'No win, No fee' cases to sue me for damage to his face in Albania).
Stay tuned for a full account of the last 60 days and please come to the party once organised - keep eyes on the site for the date.
Mike
After a sad goodbye at Nice airport, I was soon on my way into the night towards Andorra. As the night settled and I sat back in the saddle to get as comfortable as possible for a few hours riding, I suddenly felt alone. I was determined to finish the trip as planned as long as the bike kept moving, but if something did go wrong would ADAC's team of grumpy gits come and help me? The 2,500 remaining miles felt like a very long way and I was planning to arrive back into the UK in just 3 days time.
250 miles later saw me and my tired body and bike asleep under a self made bivvy as I had ditched the tent in order to lose some weight off the bike. The starry sky was comforting but still foreign and now very cold.
After a restless night full of being jolted awake by a passing lorry, I set off in search of Andorra in the dark at 4 am. If the trip was to be completed by the weekend, today had to be a massive day of riding and I hoped to cover over 800 miles.
Now a short interlude to describe how it feels to be riding for 2 months solid...
Firstly, the wind batters and pulls you around (particularly when riding at 130kmph) in a way that is just a little annoying to begin with. As your body tires over the next few hours and days, it can cause serious problems for your neck and back that ache in a way that make you want to stop. This was fine for the rest of the trip, but with such a tight deadline I had no choice but to carry on.
Secondly, your arse...! Imagine, if you will, sitting astride a slightly padded stool with no back rest for 10 hours a day with a few breaks (whilst the wind pummels of course). After 7 weeks of that, now imagine having to do the same, sat as before in the same upright unwavering position, for 3 more excruitiating days of 18 hours-a-day on that stool, with the wind, and fewer breaks. Pain is not the word...!
Now that description is in order, I can continue. Crossing the border into Portugal some hours later, my aim to exceed 800 miles was successful. By the time I had nipped in and out of Portugal and back into Spain I had covered a total daily distance of just over 1,000 miles. Pulling over at a campsite that had closed for the season, I called Sarah to let her know how I was doing before curling up under a small plum tree for the night in my sleeping bag. Being tired, I couldn't be bothered to erect any kind of bivvy to shelter under and the sky looked clear and starry - if only I remembered that northern Europe has dew...!
Waking up at 4 am again, I was cold and extremely wet from the dew. Reluctantly climbing out of my cozy bag, I packed up in the dark again and was back on the road towards Biarritz by 4.45am.
At this time in the morning, my bum wasn't awake enough to feel the throbbing pain and so the miles few past so that by the time I stopped for breakfast at 8am, I had covered over 250 miles. Now passing Hossegor, just 90 miles south of Bordeaux, I was looking set for a return into GB on Saturday as planned - ready for a final ceremonial ride to Stonehenge on Sunday morning.
The miles continued to fall until I hit the spaghetti of roads surrounding Paris just 180 miles from Dunkirk. The traffic slowed and came to near stand still and junctions for roads appeared every 100metres on my right. Time to learn fast and do as the Parisian motorcyclists. Adopting my newly embraced style, I rode directly down the 3 foot gap between the weaving Paris traffic, only pulling into a lane to let a real Parisian past as he/she rode at a breakneck speed between cars.
This unerving technique saw me on the road to Dunkirk, now north of Paris, just 40 minutes later.
Soon the first signs of the coast came into view as I passed the fantastically named 'Region Pas-Nord de Calais' (translated 'The Not-North of Calais Region' - so that will be SOUTH of Calais then, you funny French things?).
Dunkirk arrived having ridden another long day of around 800 miles. The ferry was booked online by Sarah and I was to sail at 8am the next day. With everything quite literally behind me, I slept in the ironically named 'Best Hotel'.
The next morning, I swiftly packed and made it to the ferry by 6.30am. Packed onto the boat on time, I strapped the bike down and headed upstairs for a fry-up - managing to eat only 1/3rd with my shrunken stomach.
Dover's dirty beige cliffs soon came into sight over a blue and sunny horizon and, as the captain allowed us to return to our cars and bikes, I actually wept - seriously...like a big girl! Walking down the stairs to the bike I was surrounded by people that looked on, unsure as to whether I was either upset or insane!
The rest of the trip involves a ride up the M20, M26, M25 and M3 to meet Sarah (who had hired a car) at my great uncle and aunt's place just 18 miles from Stonehenge. And tomorrow this epic adventure comes to a close with too many thoughts, adventures, stories and feelings to put properly into words.
As I mentioned, we will be compiling a full account of the trip from the diaries that we kept throughout the ride and hope to pass the results on to people as soon as possible. Photos will be uploaded onto the site in the next 2 or 3 days - I will let you know when if you're on the mailing list, if not then keep looking at the site!
Once again, a huge thanks to everyone who's supported us, including PHOENIX, Icantrack, BMAD, Scottoiler, Dubberware and more. It's been an uphill struggle to get here, but tonight I'm sleeping just 18 miles from the finish line and 9,824 miles from the start feeling a million and one feelings - but mostly just that I want to be back in Albania...
