One night, in a bar, JVS said "Why dont we ride our bikes down to Switzerland, for the L-Bonian congress".

"Capital Idea!", I said.

Well. When my mates found out they described it as "The blind leading the blind". God.

Preparation

As a belated anniversary present, my missus gave me permission to get an Autocom intercom system. Which is good, as I'd already ordered it. Ralf Davidson raved about his one - they are good. It took me about two hours to install the bugger - given my complete lack of mechanical ability, thats pretty good. The Haynes motorcycle manual for this bike paid for itself again. Oh - a lot of the interface cables for the Autocom system are expensive - £10 for a helmet lead, £30 for walkie talkie leads,£10 for a plug for your phone. They are expensive. For a reason. They're really robust. I've lost count of the number of times I tried to get off the bike, dragging the cables. Did they break ? No. Thats what your paying for - tried and tested robust leads. That work. All the time. I chatted to a couple coming back who had real problems with one lead on their cheaper system breaking down half way through their journey. So. You get what you pay for. Just assume that your entire trip will cost a fortune in any case, and buy the right stuff, first time. Seriously.

Oh - my one -the Pro 7- has an amusing feature that lowers the background music from the MP3 player when the other rider comes on the radio circuit. Or I talk. So you have an in-helmet Karaoke system. Well worth the extra £20 increment from a Sport 7 to a Pro 7.

JVS got himself an Autocom also - and ordered a pair of Kenwood walkie-talkies. They arrived a week before departure, and I had to spend another £60 for the interface cables. Ouch.

Tested them by the wife following in her new car, with the kid talking to me. They work *really* well. Excellent fun. The wife followed me for five miles, nagging at my riding..

Saturday, 2pm.

Discovered that the bike battery was shagged, prompting a possibly illegal run to Aberdeen to get a replacement. McGowans, as usual, came through with the goods. Hit Waterstones and Dennis Irvines for maps. The Motrax "indestructible" map of Europe is class. Dennis Irvine's had one in a glass jar full of water for a year - still perfectly usable. Perfect for those wet "at night" naviation nightmares.

Oh. Word of warning. German roads have junction numbers, but most maps dont show them. In the end, JVS's fold-out map was best, showing junction numbers and filling stations. Course, I should have got a GPS equipped PDA. But I'm cheap.

What the hell do you pack for a 5-day cross-europe trip? (JVS, take note!)

• Toolkit - spanners, pliers (3 types), cutters, cable ties, torch.
• Puncture repair kit and "get it home" CO2 cannister
• Chain Oil (small can)
• Spare front and rear bulb kit.
• European breakdown cover
• Passport (D'oh!)
• Copies of registration and insurance documents
• Clothes. In poly bags. Cos Panniers (even with the wet weather gear over them) leaks. And Shoes. Do you know how much pannier space bloody shoes take up ? God. (only one pair - who do you think I am ?)
• Toiletries
• Phone (roaming enabled)
• Walkie talkies and chargers
• And stuff that I should have taken:
  • Money (Euros and lots of them), Credit Cards. Oh and a cash machine card. With PIN Numbers. As I didnt. D'oh!
  • Something to lock the bike up with
  • Decent Chain Oil

Sunday 12th September - 240 miles.

Thinks: One more thing.."

All by myself...

Dashboard. Primitive, eh. Speedo (in MPH), Rev Counter, Temp Gauge, Useless Fuel warning lights. And the MP3 Player in the foreground, big buttons handy for gloved fingers."

Does my Bum look big in this ?

Got up at 10am - the time I was supposed to leave. One hour of focused headless-chicken running around, and the bike was packed and rairing to go. A quick stop at Strathcathro services to fill up, plug in the Autocom to the MP3 player, and I was off.

50 miles later, at a layby south of Perth, I stopped to calm my nerves, and change the battery on the MP3. My darling daugher had lent it to me flat!

During this stage of the ride, I ran through the checklist of stuff that I *should* have and concluded that:

• I had not yet replaced the back brake pads, which wont last 1,600 miles.
• I had forgotten the chain to lock my damn bike up with!

Why the nerves ? Well, the tail end of Hurricane Charlie was blowing over scotland at the time. Side-gusts of up to 40mph can ruin even the most calm of days riding. At points, (especially on the M90 bridge at Perth), I was down to 30mph. And hiding beside lorries.

Bonus. The missus called me as I went around Edinburgh. My phone, hooked to the Autocom, said "Ashley", rang twice and automatically answered. And I was able to talk to the missus whilst poodling around at 70mph. Excellent.

I took the Jedburgh A68 route south from Edinburgh on a whim. Thinking that it would be slightly less blustery than the very open A1. Bonus. What an excellent road - and of course, well used. I must have counted 100+ bikes going in the opposite direction. Excellent bike road, despite the numerous radar traps.

A68 near Jedburgh. Lovely. Only sunshine that day!

A sight for sore eyes. And Wrist. And Bum

Made the ferry at Newcastle with 15 minutes to spare. Phew. 5 hours for 240 miles ? Thats how bad the wind was.. And its times like this you realise that your beloved Shoei lid is *noisy*.. Very noisy.. And the Autocom speakers dig into your ears.. Time for a new one, methinks. One like Ralf's (the top one) would be cool. But he's got one already.. Sigh. What about Bart ?

Humped all the crap off the bike, after strapping it down. The biker beside me gave me an invaluable ferry-tip - cable tie your front brake lever, so the bike doesnt bounce around.

The ferry itself was great fun. Four or five bars, etc. The main "ballroom" had a band and later, some dancing girls. The music was awful, so I moved to the "snug" bar and chatted with some lorry drivers, a polish guy (who was trying as we all were to chat up the Polish barmaid), and finally a broadcasting guy. Entertaining. At midnight, I turned into a pumkin and left for bed, via a walk over the top deck, enjoying the wind.

The night ferry crossing, as the ferry cleared the English coast and headed for Holland was *very* bumpy - I thought I'd get bounced out of bed. I heard the other passengers moaning about it. "Bloody amateurs..", I thought.

Windy ? Force 5-8 ?

Impressive wash..

Nice cabin. Up six flights of stairs.

Monday 13th September - 90 miles.

A rather blustery day.

"Bing Bong", went the tannoy at 7am. "Due to the weather, our arrival time in Amsterdam will now be 10am". Why couldnt they NOT make this announcement first thing and leave us all sleep.

Stalked the decks in the morning, enjoying the bracing sea air.

Unclipped the bike, left the ferry. The passport control was hilarious. I didnt even have to take my helmet off.

Then a 90 mile tramp from the ferry to EHV, again suffering with cross-winds. I think the average speed was about 50mph... Every muscle in my body is now complaining after my 8 hour "Kawasaki workout". Hot bath tonight, methinks.

Spuggy (he of the Unsuitable Bicycle Club of Great Britain) pointed me to this BBC Weather site, which indicates wind patterns for the following five days. Looks like the hurricane is subsiding..

Left work at 10pm and negotiated Eindhoven ("The City of light" - bloody traffic lights) successfully. Had a jar or two in the bar at the Pierre Hotel.

Tuesday 14th September - 30 miles.

Another day at the office. The high point was calling up MotorHouse Eindhoven (+31 40 248 0000, 2 Bruggelaan, Eindhoven, NL), and begging them to replace my rear disk pads. They said come along - and took all of 10 minutes to replace the pads. Had a good chat with the guys there, and left entirely chuffed. They'd a really good selection of new bikes there - €10k euros gets you a brand new R6. Of course, us Brits can get it with Dutch tax off, etc. Wonder if grey importing still is worth the pain ?

The classic "Turning right into the oncoming traffic" bug struck again - I was pulling a U to avoid roadworks, and forgot where I was. The large arrows on the road pointing at me reminded me, so I quickly skipped across to the right side of the road in the cycle lane. Must watch that...

Met up with JVS in the 'Bin. Briefed him on the plans for the weekend, and did a live test of the Kenwoods. He drove his car out of EHV whilst I went back to work - easily 2 mile range among the buildings of Eindhoven. When he ran out of range, he called on the mobile. Nice - it all works! (Oh and the MP3 player interface is excellent. Must remember to change the music on it.. Och, if only I could afford an iPod...)

Oh. One last thing to consider. I have Frank Thomas trousers and jacket. And its supposed to be "breathable". Bollocks. Even a snake would sweat in those. So leaving them around the office (as I have done today) is trying the patience as well as the olfactory responses of my co-workers. Sorry mates. Thankfully, a few of them are bikers, and can put up with smelly boots and waterproofs littering an otherwise "sterile" office environment. God knows what they'll smell like *next week*.....

Wednesday 15th September - 15 miles.

A long run through the night, and through the rain in Belgium. Why does it always rain in Belgium>

Only thing I have to do is to get five stuffed parrots for our Talk like a Pirate day on Sunday. That shouldnt be too difficult..

So I failed miserably. The stuffed parrot shop had closed down some time ago. So I got a long-overdue Haircut instead. Such is the growth of my hair that I had difficulty getting the helmet over my Kevin-Keegan style growth. So getting it shorn helps me helmet up (so to speak, phnar phnar)

Another long day at the salt mine. Poodling home, this twat behind me was getting a little too close for my liking. So a wee bit of throttle, and he disappeared. Coming up to the next set of lights, he barges alongside. Its a twat in a Porche. You know - middle aged, Porche driver, small penis. So he looks over, grins, guns the engine a few times saying "come on then"..

So I rev up a few times to acknowlege the contest.

Lights change. He roars off, must be making 80mph in the short piece before the next traffic light. All squealing tyres, sideways slide, etc. (There was a corner involved).

Wheras I thought "Twat", waved him goodbye and had a good chuckle at him making an arse of it as I lanuidly moved away from the lights.

Honestly. I'm driving a vehicle that can outperform his (at least till 100mph), but cost just over €2,000. The cost of the set of tyres he just laid down. And he feels the urge to show off like some child, IN TOWN, in the dark and the rain, alongside a cycle path at pub closing time.

I should have dragged him out his car and adminstered a good beating just to drive home to the idiot that having a Porche doesnt give you a license to mow down other road users, pedestrians, and at the speed he was driving, low flying aircraft... Or indeed, drive like a complete anus.

But there we are. The new "non-Rude Bob" just chucked, and hoped the twat didnt wipe anyone else out on his short journey to the grave...

Thursday 16th September - 320 miles (or so)

Checked out of Fawlty Towers. They handed over my shirts that I was getting laundered - unfolded. So I'm standing there in the bike gear, helmet in hand, and he hands me two shirts on a hanger. What the frick was I supposed to do with them ? Bungee them to the back of my helmet ? What planet was this guy on ? So they got scrunched up into the panniers..

At work, wondering where JVS is.. And how he's getting on with his initial leg down from AmsterJam...

JVS. AKA Micro Ted. AKA Johnny. AKA Johnny English. Fantastic. Loads up his bike, rolls it out of the end of his drive. As he gets to the pavement, some woman drives by. He parks the bike on the road, turns around, and the woman is reversing up the road. Despite hitting the horn, and the Lovely Debbie shouting at the woman, she reversed into JVS's bike and knocked it over.

1 yard completed. And he's down!

Scratched Mirror cowl and ingeniously bent front brake lever"

Thankfully, no real damage to JVS, and his next door neighbour was kind enough to take his bike out and assess damage. Mostly superficial - usual scratched fairing and bent front brake lever.

Setting off from the office now. 4:20pm, and late. Picked Johnny up at the bin, on the first of many Faff-stops...

The following was filled out on Monday 20th September.

Various things happen at work when you state your taking a longish weekend. Just as you've dressed up, packed up and stading there with 20 kilos of bag in triple-insulated liners, there's a progress meeting. Great. Sweaty before I started. I picked up Johnny

Thursday. Our "60k ride, and two hour stop" methodology puts us at 2:30am on the outskirts of Strasbourg, after getting horribly lost. Its cold. Its dark. Polish lorries thunder by at 120kpm. We find the hotel, surprisingly without getting lost. And put our bikes into the basement car park, involving a 45 degree slope. Cool!

The border crossing between Germany and France at Strasbourg is of the "school medical" sort of accuracy. We drove up, and were waved through without even having to stop. Which is good, as I was so tired, I dont think I could have held the bike up. Cleaned fabrics and fell into bed.

Less "Easy Rider", more "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure"

It was nice

Ahh. A boudoir and a beer.

This is what the inside liners in my jacket looked like drying out in Strasbourg. Unlike me

Part 2 ...