family
weddings, & I needed to fix myself up with a good trip.
I got chatting to Petar on the stand, & the fact that
he is from Eastern Europe impressed me, as did the tours offered.
I departed with brochure in jacket, got back out on the road,
calling in to Gorey Bikes on the way home to have a look around;
it’s difficult to pass a bike shop. The day held up
& I dodged rain showers to arrive home dry by mid afternoon,
very pleased with the comfort of the bike after a short 320
km day.
At
home I did some research on the routes & countries that
the various tours offered by “Ride With Us” visited,
the dates that would suit me, & it boiled down to a trip
to Slovenia, departing from the U.K. in late July. I phoned
on March 13th & booked, started picking up maps &
with summer holidays arranged I had something to look forward
to. The trip would start from the Channel Tunnel at Folkestone,
so I made my ferry bookings to get to Wales, & for the
return. The experience gained in 2006 made preparations easier,
still trial packing & loading are essential before any
long trip. I got the bike serviced by Tommy in Waterford Honda,
& two new tires (BT 021) fitted the week before departure
date of July 28th. The wet summer required full wet gear so
that had to be fitted in too. To improve weight distribution
I re-drilled the top-box mounting plate & moved it forward
to get the weight nearer the centre of the bike, this worked
very well & improved the handling.
Thankfully, Saturday July 28th was dry & having got the
early fast ferry from Rosslare to Fishguard, I was on the
road in Wales at 10.00, cracking on in dry, bright weather
to the motel in Ashford by 16.00, giving me time to relax
after 520 km, before getting a fine steak dinner in a nearby
restaurant, followed by a walk & into bed early in anticipation
of an early start next day. During the night the weather changed,
the wind got up & when I looked out at 05.00 I could see
the familiar rain lashing past the lights of the motorway,
after a shower & quick cup of tea, I was dressed &
had the bike loaded & ready before 06.00, heading out
onto the motorway in miserable conditions to get fuel before
meeting up with the group. The filling station pumps were
card only, & wouldn’t accept mine so I had wait
for the first customer to arrive & then persuade him to
fill me too, paying him in cash, he kindly agreed. I swung
off the M20 into the Tunnel approach, negotiated the automatic
check-in & parked up outside the terminal building, beside
what I guessed was Petar’s bike. Inside I met Petar’s
wife Slavica, got a coffee & chatted with Keith &
Lorraine who arrived in a few minutes later with Petar. Our
train number came up on screen, so on with our helmets &
we followed Petar to the assembly area, here on the ramp we
met up with Lee, the sixth member of the group, & after
the cars were loaded we drove into the last carriage &
parked up for the short trip. We parked the bikes up diagonally
in the carriage, without seats you have to stand for the trip,
but it was an opportunity to chat & get to know each other
a little. The Channel Tunnel is really easy to use, runs smoothly
& efficiently & gets you straight out onto the motorway
in France.
The
damp morning in France got wetter, we slogged on, through
blinding spray off trucks we overtook, staying on the motorway
for about 300 km, passing signs for Great War sites including
the Vimy Ridge Memorial, finally getting off the motorway
& stopping for lunch in a village restaurant, time to
assess each other & to get some hot food in. I knew that
booking on the trip was a shot in the dark; would there be
any compatible riders? Just how would we all fare together
for eleven nights, & a lot of demanding riding during
the day? I need not have worried, we all got on fine from
day one, everybody was considerate & sociable & co-operative,
Petar & Slavica were super efficient, friendly & fun.
After a long French Sunday lunch, we hauled on the cold damp
wet gear, eased on sodden gloves & damp helmets, &
headed off on B roads towards Troyes, passing now through
dormant villages & after cresting one ridge, descending
through south facing vineyards. Now I knew we were really
in France & heading south, dare we hope for improved weather?
I spotted a sign post for “Colombey les Deux Eglise”,
& wished I could have diverted to pay homage to “Le
General de Gaulle”, one of the icons of my youth. It
was drying up as we neared the Foret d’Orient, approaching
the hotel through miles of National Park woodland, finally
parking up & covering the bike. Quickly getting our room
keys it was time to enjoy a hot shower & a lie down with
a book before dinner, after the early start & wet ride
the recovery time was welcome. We met in the bar before dinner,
all feeling tired, & having scoffed dinner, bed beckoned,
light rain put me off any thoughts of walking outside, I was
soon in bed, & after a page of my book the eyes closed.
We had all agreed on early starts, & after a light breakfast
I checked over the bike, having covered 1100 km in the previous
two days. Petar asked me what was I doing? I said “Checking
the oil”, Petar’s only comment, “ Why? It’s
a Honda”. I guess because the bike was still new to
me, I was being ultra careful, I now know that the legendary
Honda build quality does really provide unrivalled reliability.
Early morning mist on the fields indicated a good day to come,
the sun came out & we sped south on fast motorway into
Germany, getting onto the famous B 500 road through the Black
Forest. We enjoyed mile after mile of twisty road, superb
surface, marvelous scenery, achieving exhilarating lean angles,
eventually pulling up into a bike park at Lake Titisee, getting
off to stroll past shops with cuckoo clocks, eating my first
ice-cream of the summer! Pressing on, by 16.30 we reached
our hotel; this was attached to a large brewery, in a pleasant
rural setting. With the bikes parked in a locked garage, I
got a fine room, then into the hot shower to ease the shoulders.
I had been experiencing pain in the left shoulder & a
course of deep tissue massage by Charlotte Hill back in Waterford
had made a huge difference, in fact the whole trip went by
without any real discomfort. The hotel had a cosy bar with
a unique feature, a little electric train that ran intermittently
along a track suspended from the ceiling over the bar. The
beer was good & cold, the dinner an excellent buffet,
we gorged & chatted till 22.30, everybody in great form
after a really fine day of motorcycling, cool forest air with
scent of pine trees mingled with hops enhanced a walk outside
before bed. On paper the next day’s ride was short,
but this was deceptive, the traffic was heavy crossing into
Switzerland, then we stopped briefly to purchase vignettes
(road tax), but we took an hour out to relax at the Rhine
Falls, where this mighty river plunges over a cliff &
takes a 90 degree turn, overhead we watched a Zeppelin airship
circle about on a tourist trip.
We took the road on the south side of Lake Constance, picnicking
in the shade of some birch trees in a lay-by overlooking the
lake at lunchtime. Riding through many towns & villages
was slow work during the afternoon before re-joining the motorway
towards Innsbruck, now the Alps started rising out of the
hazy eastern horizon, & after a series of road tunnels
& the border crossing into Austria, we left the motorway
& headed up into the hills to our hotel, situated in a
village located in a steep valley. After a warm ride we were
welcomed with jugs of iced elderflower drink, a real reminder
of my youth, parked our bikes in the garage & showered.
My room had a shaded balcony looking out on steep fields &
mountains behind the hotel, so an hour sitting out on the
balcony with a book, reading to the distant sound of cowbells,
proved very relaxing. The dinner in this hotel was excellent,
small portions & very tasty, washed down with the customary
cold beers. At the end of the meal a birthday cake was produced
by the staff, this was a complete surprise to everybody, it
turned out to be Petar’s birthday & the cake had
been ordered by a friend of his who knew we would be in that
hotel that night.
We
were on the road by 08.30 on Wednesday August 1st, needing
an early start with a 450 km ride into Slovenia ahead of us,
the first 150km on the motorway, through a number of tunnels,
the longest was 17km of heat, fumes & hypnotic lights,
it was difficult to maintain alertness & concentration,
& a great relief to emerge into fresh air & daylight.
We then turned off the motorway & headed up into the mountains
on secondary roads, leaving most of the traffic behind &
riding through woods, over three low passes, through a short
tunnel to emerge looking down a spectacular valley. This brought
us to the border crossing into Slovenia, now a mere passport
check since Slovenia joined the EU. Here we met up with friends
of Petar & Slavica who had ridden up from Serbia to meet
them, time for a snack & a bottle of water. We were now
into the Julian Alps & started descending towards Lake
Bled, passing through the town of Bled & continuing further
up into the blind valley where Lake Bohinj is located, &
to our destination, Hotel Zlatorog, beside Lake Bohinj in
Triglav National Park.
The deterioration in road surface on crossing into Slovenia
came as a familiar reminder that we were in Eastern Europe;
the socialist era hotel was comfortingly familiar to me too,
with photos of Marshall Tito still on the wall & single
rooms with single beds. The riding clothes had now been on
for five days, so peeling them off I threw them into the shower
& followed. Next up was a swim in the indoor pool, located
just near my room, great to ease out all the muscles at the
end of 2200 km, Lee had found it too & we enjoyed a leisurely
time in the pool, with views out on the mountains. The bar
served large cold beers, my holiday beverage, at home I stick
to red wine, I think it’s the thirst at the end of a
warm ride that only a long cold beer can quench. The dining
room featured a well stocked buffet with many of the dishes
I’m familiar with, pork in many guises, mushrooms, fresh
salads, & rye bread. With a competent jazz pianist playing
near the door, the ambiance was very relaxed, families with
perfectly mannered children, a great deal more civilized than
our uncouth culture in Ireland of the Celtic Tiger. We ate
together as usual, and then took a long walk in the darkening
evening, out over the little river feeding Lake Bohinj &
into the woods, returning to sleep soundly with cool mountain
air coming in through a wide open window.
Thursday was by agreement a day off the road, after meeting
at breakfast we decided to take the cable car ride up the
nearby mountain, 1000 meters straight up to a ski resort at
the top, not for those nervous of heights!
A
walk around at the top showed my sandals up as uncomfortable,
so I retreated to the terrace of the resort & ordered
coffees & apple cake, sitting on the very edge of the
precipice, looking out over spectacular views of Lake Bohinj
& the Julian Alps.
The day was hot & sunny, & after descending by cable
car, I stopped to purchase new sandals in a sports shop conveniently
located right at the terminal, dumping the old crippling sandals,
we then strolled down to the lake & took the tourist boat
trip. Powered by an electric motor the boat was silent &
non polluting, gliding through clear water past bathing parties
below camp sites hidden in the woods, the beneficial side
of centralised socialist planning was impressive. The boat
did a circuit of the lake, bringing us back to the hotel in
time to get the trunks & head down for a swim in the lake.
The water was cool & refreshing, fed into the lake from
the top of the mountain down a waterfall; Bohinj was proving
to be an idyllic destination.
The planning of the tour & the routes by Petar & Slavica
was so good that it all looked easy as we followed along,
this was the real value of an organized tour, riding great
roads, staying in places we otherwise would not have found.
Petar explained that they drive the routes by car in the off
season, stay in the hotels & do their research in tourist
offices. Over dinner we decided that Lee & I would go
to Postoina caves with Petar & Slavica the next day, Keith
& Lorraine opting to get the bus into Bled. Morning brought
drizzle turning into rain as we struggled south over narrow
wet mountain roads, through deep valleys & thick forest,
at one place squeezing past a truck loading logs on a narrow
bend, thankful for good wet grip tires, sharing narrow gorges
with railways, passing stretched out sawmills built against
precipitous valley walls. Postoina caves are a major tourist
attraction, & they are huge, requiring a rail ride to
get in & out, clattering past stalactmites, heads just
clearing the tips of long stalactites, then a long walkway
constructed by Russian prisoners of war in 1942, with bridges
over deep canyons & of course the lights switched off
for a few seconds to raise screams. Back in daylight the rain
had stopped, but the traffic made up for it, we filtered along
the clogged motorway around Lubjiana to get back to Bohinj,
past the familiar blocks of apartments that you see in every
city from the Baltic to the Adriatic. Back at the hotel just
in time for a quick shower before dinner, we tucked in heartily
after a tough long day on the road, then enjoyed a feed of
cake provided by Petar & Slavica’s friends, sitting
outside on the terrace. After an arduous day I was happy to
get into bed, in the morning we would be starting back westwards.
Saturday
dawned cool & bright, we were all ready & anxious
to get on the road & at 08.15 our little convoy swung
left from the hotel, following the lakeshore road back onto
the main road 10km away, now heading due west to the Italian
border, getting onto spectacular motorways, crossing elegant
bridges over valleys, then diving into tunnels under the foothills
of the Dolomites, the sun getting hot, tarmac & tires
warm, perfect motorcycling once we got onto the B roads &
over the Passo di Mauria.
Only
stopping for fuel & water & photos, the scenery dramatic
with bare mountains rising out of fertile valleys, we sped
on to Brunec & our hotel, arriving at 16.00 with plenty
of time to cool off & relax, again with a shaded balcony
looking across fields of maize to distant hills. This hotel
was new & built to a very high specification, excellent
materials & fittings, beautiful marble stairs, superb
tiling, all high quality. They even had an unusual pool, quite
small, constructed of steel with a plastic coating & a
sliding roof, but being primarily a ski hotel we were in off-season
& the place was quiet. The meal was a little heavy, especially
after the warm day, the cold beers welcome. Another Italian
hotelier had driven 600 km on his Honda Goldwing 1800 to meet
Petar & Slavica to plan possible trips during 2008, it
was interesting to meet a biker/hotelier & to learn of
possible future trips, perhaps using the moto-rail facility
overnight from Dortmund to Bologna, (DB Zug) traveling overnight
on the sleeper train with the bikes, allowing an extra four
days to tour in Italy, this got us all talking about next
year!
By this time we were all very well at ease with each other,
with a broad range of ages & backgrounds & experiences,
Lee the 28 year old junior, Petar (just turned 40!) &
Slavica, Keith & Lorraine late 40’s & myself
the old man at 61. But I remain optimistic as Petar told me
he took two 74 year old guys through the Alps last year, &
they were well capable. Later the chat turned to our options
for the following day’s route, getting into the high
Alps. We decided to make up our minds on the road, depending
on weather, there were two high passes planned including the
notorious/famed Passo di Stelvio. Petar explained clearly
the alternatives, either go over the high passes, or continue
on the level road around the mountains, we all felt that having
come this far we would be very reluctant to miss the most
spectacular route of the trip. So to bed with visions of snow
capped peaks & uphill roads.
Being innocent we slept well……next morning, following
a light breakfast we got out on the road, 120 km of motorway
before a stop to finally say yes or no to the Stelvio, a brief
roadside conference produced agreement all round, “We’re
here, the weather is perfect, lets do it!” The approach
road is all lazy bends, luring the unwary gently up to where
it all starts, suddenly you see the gradient change, the bends
tighten into real hairpins, and the mountain just goes up
in front. The bends are now numbered, starting at 48 at the
bottom, on & up, meeting bikes & cars & worst
of all the camper vans, hairpins now acute, trying to keep
the speed & balance, avoid the traffic, overtake a camper,
down to 1st gear, lean in, turn hard, wide open throttle,
up to 2nd gear & 7000 rpm to power up the next straight
200 meters into the next bend, before I knew it I saw number
30. Looking up it was awesome, looking down, plain frightening.
The arms are now getting tired, wrists aching, clutch hand
cramping, sweat pouring down under the helmet & leathers,
just keep going, keep going, don’t look down because
there is now no continuous barrier on the open side, vertical
cliff face on the mountain side, now number 10 is behind me,
still the top looks very high above, watch the concentration,
ignore the heat of the sun & off the engine, press on,
starting to feel achievement, & finally, there’s
Lee’s bike parked up on the left, I pull in beside him
& gratefully kill the engine. Helmet & gloves off,
leather jacket off, let out the steam, now the others pull
in, in turn, we are all grinning like kids, the adrenaline
rush has us on a huge high, hugs & congrats all round,
nobody dropped on a bend, no injuries or damage. The scene
at the top is a real surprise too, hundreds of bikes…………………every
type from asthmatic scooters to Goldwings, just enough room
to squeeze through past tee shirt stalls & milling throngs
of bikers with the top half of the leathers hanging from their
waists. We stayed with the bikes for about 15 min taking photos
& getting our breath back, then adjourned to a terrace
café, secured seats in the shade & ordered lunch
& water, lots of water. I realized that the top of my
head had got sun burnt in that 15 min, at this altitude, 2758
m, around 9,000 ft, the thin air was no protection, &
we were too elated to feel the effect of low oxygen, that
was to come tomorrow.
Another round of photos & tee shirts purchases & we
were ready to reluctantly leave this biker heaven, I’m
sure we all felt a huge inner satisfaction, & looked forward
secretly to being able to tell people on our return home,
“ Went up Stelvio on the hols”.
Brimming with confidence we set off down the far side, turning
right at a fork near the top, taking the road into Switzerland
via the Umbrail Pass, now driving carefully on a packed gravel
road, the gradients less severe & the bends more open.
We made a quick stop for fuel on reaching the main road, then
sped along a fine road to St Moritz, past wonderful scenery,
swinging through open bends, with fields of ripe maize on
either side, finally drawing up in front of the Hotel Soldanella
in St Moritz at 17.00, tired but exhilarated after a fabulous
day’s riding. This hotel was built about 1890, &
beautifully maintained in original style, but with updated
plumbing thankfully installed too. St Moritz is built on a
hillside above a small lake, so many of the buildings have
lovely views, I got a fine big room with a little balcony
tacked on, from which I could enjoy the lake view. I enjoyed
the usual cold beers out on the viewing terrace, sheltered
by glass walls from any breeze, where the luxurious surroundings
made us truly feel like the 19th century wealthy who would
have patronized Hotel Soldanella when it opened.
The dining room brought us back down to earth as modest 21st
century tourists, a super arrogant Italian waiter did his
best to put us in our place, but the wheel comes full circle,
& after a superb meal, none of us were willing to leave
a tip for a guy who sought to treat us shabbily. After dining,
some of our party retired to the pool table, I decided to
stroll down the town, through a street of exclusive designer
shops. I’m glad we were there in the off season, even
this glimpse of such a gross & ostentatious lifestyle
through shop windows, I found shallow. This did not detract
from the enjoyment of staying in this lovely hotel, in a beautiful
place.
Time
to move on in the morning, a leisurely start leading us back
to the mountains again, climbing up the Furka Pass, again
very steep & very tight, today I’m finding it difficult,
I can’t get the rhythm, I make a mess of the hairpins,
my confidence is evaporating, the bike feels heavy, stress
levels soar, it’s a struggle to reach the car park by
the glacier at the summit. I’m relieved to park up,
get some cold water from a glacier stream & re-hydrate,
the altitude seems to be affecting me. On reflection now I
think the combination of altitude & de-hydration kicked
in severely, I should have drunk a bottle of water before
the ascent.
Looking down the far side I start to dread the Grimsel Pass
in the distance, but miraculously it all comes right descending,
the smooth rhythm is there again, the grin restored. Across
the bridge at the bottom of the valley, then straight up Grimsel
Pass, now I can really appreciate the power of the Pan European,
huge torque from low down, the steepest gradients eaten up
with a growl, reaching the summit and wishing this road just
went on & on. Time to stretch the legs & take in the
views at the summit, distant snowy peaks glistening in clear,
thin air, eyes squinting in the extreme sunlight, now we were
eager to get on the down slope, heading towards Interlaken.
With hardly any traffic the ride down was thrilling, we each
took our own pace, & with wide bends & sensible gradients
this was a fast stretch where we could all improve our riding
skills, meeting up at the bottom for the run to our hotel
in Wilderswill. The temperature at the valley floor rose &
soon we were cruising in 28 C hot sun, time to run the zips
down & open the helmet top vents, finally pulling up in
front of “Willy’s Biker Hotel”. I spotted
a water trough & pipe across the street, Lee & I got
our heads under the cool mountain water, what a way to finish
a great day’s ride. Willy is an unmistakable biker,
clad jeans & black tee shirt with the sleeves cut off,
he gave us a very friendly welcome & set the informal
style of his hotel.
Iced shandies all round gave us time to unwind, soon the bikes
were under cover in Willy’s shed out the back, &
after a shower & lie down we met up for a fine feed of
good country food, watching thunderstorms in the mountains
behind the village. A small river a short distance away ran
down through the village, soon we could hear the roar of water
as the rain in the mountains now had the river in spate, how
quickly the weather can change in the mountains & how
dramatic the effect can be. Willy’s is a rambling wooden
structure, much added to, my room was at the back, to get
to it I had to walk through his theatre, yes theatre, across
the stage & up a stairs into the back annex, very cosy,
very informal, very homely. Next day we had decided would
be another day without bikes, planning a couple of train rides,
just as well, because it turned out pretty damp. The first
trip was to Grindelwald, this turned out to be very wet &
full of tourists, so after a strong espresso, we headed back
to Wilderswill. I then decided to take the cog railway to
the top of Schynige Platte, this was an astonishing piece
of engineering. Built in 1893, with gradients of 25%, winding
it’s way up along cliff faces, turning through tunnels
& emerging at the top of a mountain at 2000meters. Here
they have constructed an Alpine Garden with over 600 species
carefully tended by a team of gardeners, even for me a non
gardener, this was impressive, & very pleasant to walk
around, especially with the sound of cow bells from a grazing
dairy herd a little distance away. It was really cold at the
top, so after an hour I was ready to get back down to the
warmth of the valley, & climb into bed for a siesta in
Willy’s. Later on a couple of beers whetted the appetite
for another of Willy’s country dinners, & with a
poor weather forecast, an early start & a pretty long
day planned for the morrow, after filling our bellies &
enjoying loads of chat, I was in the bunk at 23.00.
Heavy rain fell during the night, so rising early I got the
bike checked over & packed, in for a good breakfast, then
on with the wet gear & saddled up. We hit the road at
08.00, not exactly enthusiastic about heading north &
homewards, that end of holiday feeling about the group. We
had a lot of motorway work to do, fortunately it dried up
quickly before we hit Basle & the heavy industrial traffic,
slogging on we sped past Mulhouse & Belfort, back into
France & onto B roads again we could relax & chanced
upon a gem of a country restaurant in a village at lunch time.
To keep it simple we all opted for the “plat du jour”
at 11 euro, what a feed! Home made pate, steak with potato
& cauliflower cheese, apple tart, cheese platter, coffee
& glass of wine, we got through all except the wine; Lorraine
being pillion was able to enjoy the wine. More heavy showers
hit us before we reached the Foret d’Orient, but speeding
along we hardly noticed. Staying in the same hotel as on the
outward leg meant a quick check in, with plenty of time to
shower & relax. We met up for the usual beers before dinner,
but now on the return leg we knew each other, were a unified
group at ease. It was time for the group photo at dinner,
tomorrow we would split up, Keith & Lorraine heading to
Paris, the rest of us back home through the tunnel. So to
bed early, getting up at 06.30 next morning to load the bike
& check it over, with breakfast done & goodbyes said
to Keith & Lorraine, our reduced group headed north at
08.00, soon encountering cold rain showers, the temperature
dropping back down to 13 C, requiring all the wet & warm
gear on again. We stuck to the country roads as far as Rheims,
then re-joined the motorway for the two hour blast to Calais,
now we were back in dreary industrial scenery, the Alps a
distant memory, by 16.00 we were on the train, an hour later,
16.00 UK time, after goodbyes on the train in tunnel, I was
back in the motel in Ashford. I’d have turned round
& headed out again very easily.
I
treated myself to another steak dinner, tomorrow would be
a long day. The weather forecast was good, I was now looking
forward to being in my own bed the next night. I got on the
road at 05.30 next morning, just light enough to see comfortably,
out ahead of the traffic on the M 25, I opened up & headed
for the M 4, by 07.30 I was pulling in for breakfast on the
M 4, 240 km from Ashford, the Pan really is the bike for covering
distance fast & comfortably. After the fry & coffee,
I got back out on the road & sped into Wales, reeling
in the miles, checking into the ferry office in Fishguard
at 12.30, for the 14.30 boat. Here I met a group of Galway
lads on bikes returning from Poland, we had plenty of chat
& company for the crossing, exchanging ideas & experiences,
thoughts turning to next year’s possibilities. Tuskar
Rock came up on the port bow, then the low Wexford coastline,
soon it was back to the car deck, gear on, fire up the motor,
down the ramp through the disinfectant sprays & onto the
N 25 home. I soon realized I was back in Ireland, a van pulled
out straight in front of me, then a tractor the same, after
an incident free trip, it’s frightening to acknowledge
the appalling standard of driving in Ireland, & our poor
roads. Once home, too tired to start laundry I simply ate
beans on toast, showered & retired, next morning was time
enough to wash the bike & the clothes, record the distance
& wish I was still out on the road.
Total distance was 4900 km or 3063 miles, about 300 liters
of fuel, countless hours, every bit of it enjoyable, really
well organized by Petar & Slavica, with good company &
road teamwork with Keith & Lorraine & Lee, the best
value holiday ever.
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Motorcycle
Tours, Organised Motorcycle Holidays, European Motorcycle Touring
