Pedro

In the morning I borrowed a small bathroom towel to wipe down our wet bikes from the night's thick fog. It looked like the weather was going to be very nice but everything was properly wet, which is quite the contrast with what happens in most of Portugal. I was happy with not having breakfast, and after a talk with the lady running the place we were off. We learned that the price of codfish went up 70% in a week, and how much the price of everything has been going up, but more on the cost of things later on... I did a few wrong lane maneuvers at the beginning of the day, as you do, but quickly found my bearings. The way my brain works is funny, what really was a challenge for the first few days was intersections turning right. I know I am ok on the left lane, I know I am going on the left lane after turning right, but I'm always checking for oncoming traffic from the lane I'm already on and traffic coming from behind me as if all other traffic is still driving right hand drive. It took a while to convince my brain to not expect traffic to come out from the wrong side of the road. We met with Simon at a very hip modern bikers cafe after a little bit of motorways and A roads to go past Bristol and Newport, in Penperlleni almost in Abergavenny. I was shocked to show up at a bikers cafe and be greeted and directed to park by a parking person, guess they get so busy that's needed. A place like that in Portugal would be terribly snobby and hipsters full of themselves, but I found it to be really pleasant and friendly. All sorts of bikes showing up, too, very unlike what we have back home. Below You'll see Simon's 1290 Super Adventure, parked, he's a VERY experienced and competent track rider and I met him while he was semi living in the Nurburgring. A very cool guy and a pleasure to hang out with, now with the KTM he's trying to keep from R1 200mph silliness but might be failing. At 10:30 he learned from Sofia that I had never had a british bacon butty so that was my breakfast. It was a posh one with fancy cereal sprinkled bread, and I really liked it. The portuguese in me felt like a beer would be the appropriate drink to have with a sandwich of that kind, but I had coffee instead. It really is nice, and I also learned that your bacon is not like the bacon you buy in Portugal at all. Yours is a lot drier, saltier and smoky, ours has a lot more fat. Bacon butty virginity dealt with, and it was well past midday when we set off to see Wales, following Simon's recommendation on the road to take right after. We went through Abergavenny, Brecon, Lower Chapel, Garth. The B4519 going up to Garth was one of my favourite bits of road in the UK, for starters less of the fucking hedges that make you feel like riding in a tunnel, but the nice surface, the views, everything was really nice and green, cool stuff! Sofia in the environment she missed the most, the UK's countryside roads with plenty of bikers. You guys mostly nod, we continentals mostly wave. It was sunny and blue and warm, I was starting to think the bad weather is a myth to keep the place to yourselves. Stopped to have a look around and heard automatic gunfire very close by, turns out we were right next to somewhere where army types go to train. You'll notice my bike now carries a bag on top too, because I'm a gentleman I decided to compromise the smoothness of my getting on and off the bike in order to lighten the load on the Speed Triple. A stop in the Upper Chapel view point: @Sofia, fixing dogs over the phone: And another just a couple of miles down the road, I stop a lot but that's what I feel like doing when going past pretty places when it's not likely I'll be back soon. HUGE sheep you guys have! Happy as can be: Nice road: Later on, we stopped at a shop called Llanbadarnfynydd Community Shop for a snack to eat. I didn't try to pronounce the name. Munched on some cold grapes and that was very refreshing, it was heating up. Also got a Welsh Dragon sticker for my bike, I liked the place. We stopped for fuel somewhere around there, Garth I think, and in basically the same place got a perfect example of a lot of our social interactions in the UK this trip, on the fuel station Sofia used to put petrol into the Triumph she was very rudely treated by a 30 year old with a bottox face when trying to buy a bottle of water. Lady pointed her to the water section for big bottles but then said that they only sold 6 packs, and then accused her of ruining the packaging and making the bottles now unsaleable. I walked to the gas station across the street and had a lovely conversation with an older, in her sixties, lady who couldn't be nicer and wanted to know all about the trip we were on. Everywhere we went people in their 20s and 30s were mostly rude and unfriendly, while 50s and over were super nice. We rode North. It would have been nice to do this part of the trip in two days, and we could have because the next day we would be catching the ferry from Liverpool well into the afternoon, but it was a sunny and very warm saturday in Wales, everyone and their dog was out. Every hotel room south of 300€/night was full so we decided to enjoy the roads and make progress. Newtown, Dolgellau (that I learned to pronounce like a Welsh person), past Snowdonia with clear blue skies. I have to say it's a really pretty country, but don't go calling hills mountains, it's not ok. We stopped very few times for pictures though, although Sofia probably has videos which will take some work to edit. Here's a Shell station next to the river in Betws-Y-Coed, or Betsy Coed like you say it. We would have liked to stay around there, but then we checked Sofia's weather app because there was a darkness in the horizon. We were riding next to a rain storm, so had a coffee in the gas station, a look around the town and booked a room in Chester for the night. Sofia had worked close to Chester before so we would enjoy a dinner in the town and a look at a saturday night out in the UK, as you do, I was quite curious. I love Shell stations, there's nothing but a couple in Portugal, they make me feel like I'm away on a trip. There was a couple on a very purple Harley Dyna there, cool bike. From there on, we pressed on to Chester suffering no more than a light drizzle for 15 or 20 minutes on the motorway, or A road, I sometimes can't tell the difference in the UK. I booked the wrong hotel, looked at pictures of one and booked another, realized when I got to the room. It was a sad state of an hotel to be in, and again reminded me of Morocco. It was run down like what happens when something (whatever it is) is built and then left to be used for 30 years with no maintenance or upkeep. It was over priced for what it was and all the staff were 16 year old girls, very nice and friendly but completely untrained or unprepared to deal with the slightest request (like getting asked if the bikes were ok for the night were they were). Spirits were high, I had fumbled the reservation but still managed to park out of the city centre, which was the goal, so we walked down the river pathway on a good 30 or 40 minute walk to build up an apetite. A nice walk after a day on the bike is always welcome and makes dinner taste better. We just had a great motorcycling day, Wales is a pretty place, and I'm sure there's plenty of other roads to get lost and spend a week exploring the place. You'll notice the black bag on top of the GS keeps getting bigger, it's a theme ... We walked into the centre of Chester at 20:15 on a saturday looking for a place to eat, the place was busy with people on nights out and it seemed like most of them was already well past dinner (or tea) and well into the drinking. The vibe was borderline between happy and loud and when it starts to get drunken depressive and sad, but still on the happy side. A walk around Chester at 20:30: I noticed there were very few couples around. Mostly were groups of young women or young men, but no mixed genders except for clearly non binary people. Gay couples of both genders seemed to be more of a thing, but it might have just been me noticing them more. What I did get was a couple of eye contacts from women in a way that would hardly happen in Portugal, not to me or not to most men when clearly in a couple, granted they were a little into the sauce but I did enjoy the experience. It's a lovely looking town, and we walked around. Most restaurants were either too busy or not appealing at all, or WAY expensive. Sofia is a Pizza Express fan, so we went straight in when we ran into one. I got myself a big beer and lovely pizza was had, I was surprised because I was expecting a Pizza Hut sort of thing, and while it's not Napoli it was perfectly fine and a nice meal. I was happy. The cost of stuff in the UK is scary to me, and a real culture shock. 2,40 pounds for a crappy coffee is criminal, as is almost 50 pounds for a meal for two in Pizza Express. When on a trip I notice these things and they sting, but they won't ruin my fun, I do however worry and wonder as to how you can manage. We took our time and enjoyed the meal and the relaxation after a day on the bikes, while outside the window night life was happening. After dinner we had another little walk, this time searching for a quiet table to sit outside and have a drink. It was proven hard to find as everything was too loud and busy, the street vibe was now rapidly turning to the sad oh-why-did-I-drink-so-much-and-am-always-disappointed-when-I-go-out vibe. It was nice to see though. 09:30, took this picture and the lovely girl in the middle of the street wanted to come over and take my phone away, her friend, the sober one, didn't let her, so she proceeded to scream and moan at her friend. The picture doesn't translate the event, I enjoyed it We did find a quiet table in one of the places that sold wine by the glass, and watched people go by. This one dude was drunken out of his mind and kept bumping into other guys on the street to start a fight while at the same time having trouble standing up, he then proceeded to try to seduce a female police officer, then asked the time to a few people, then sat down and went to sleep in a street bench, cool night out. An über was called and we made it home for an early night. At the hotel I realized I had stepped on poo, probably human poo, that concluded the night and my old travel AllStars were no longer able to go into closed luggage It was an interesting night of watching something that is quite foreign to me. I would love to see how a male university student from Portugal gets on when he comes to the UK on an exchange program and sees that nightlife. We had little to do next day except have coffee in the morning, a visit to a local bike dealership, then go past an outlet shop to buy myself a pair of unsoiled sneakers, and make it to Liverpool for an evening ferry crossing to the IOM. Breakfast at the hotel was terrible, I eat a sausage because it's included in the price and I'm Portuguese, and regret it. By now I'm struggling with the lack of fruit or fresh vegetables, never happened before. The bike dealership was closed, Sofia was disapointed because back when they would all be open on sunday mornings. A tasty coffee was found though, and a little bit of time was spent watching Chester come back to life. Rode through the Cheshire Outlet into consumerism hell, managed to buy my replacement shoes exactly the same as the previous ones, we looked at some stuff for Sofia too, had a hipster vegetarian lunch, and rode off to Liverpool. Rode into Liverpool feeling quite happy, and waze took me right through the area by the other side of the river where I think your car is shopped for parts, a few scrap yards, a few upholstery places, pubs with people sitting on the step outside looking properly bored, nice place ... We made it to the ferry entry and parked by a nice building. Looked up the history of it and it's quite cool, too, older than it looks. A very nice man working security for the building's side entrance was friendly enough and left us park by his post, to go have a walk and another coffee to kill the afternoon. After a while we were bored, it looked like it was about to rain so took the bikes to the ferry check in place. Before boarding the ferry, me and Sofia were both patted down like we were entering a high security facility. One of my cases was searched and a leatherman confiscated for having a lockable blade. I was not happy about this, the other bikers there were in disbelief as everyone had a similar thing with them, camper vans had kitchen knives, etc. I, myself, have another blade in the form of a swiss army knife in my pocket that nobody searched for. I complained and asked for a written document, and here is the twat happy to bring it to me: She was not so happy when I made her fill in the date, which took three asks, and her name, which took two more. If you ever go there are are fortunate to meet Mary Malvern tell her to fuck off from my part. The leatherman sent for destruction so I guess someone was in need of a nice present for a husband or whatever that day. We did complain about this to the office of the Steam Packet Company running the ferry, but some stuff you just can't let ruin your day too much. I did not like being the two only foreign vehicles on that ferry and being the ones specifically brough to the side and searched. The plus side is that we did meet three cool people while waiting for the boat, all of them in disbelief at her atitude but the issue was put behind me and we sailed onto the IOM. The crossing was hell, I mistakenly sat near the children play area and kids were shouting in a sugar fueled rage until 23:00. @Sofia had a couple of her sea sickness pills and was in dream land, I sat there and took it, might have PTSD now. Off the ferry well into the night and quickly to our hotel for three nights, just 5 minutes away, happy to find a comfy bed. Two days in the IOM to look forward to.

So, boating day. We woke up early and I was quite pumped about sailing to England, I've never been in a ferry longer than the ones to Morocco. The ferry I take to Morocco takes exactly 1 hour travel time and the largest vehicles it takes are motorhomes, bikes board first and exit very quick because it's a small boat, and honestly both sides of the trip make it a quick efficient event both in Spain and Morocco. I have been dreaming of putting the GS on a container ship and taking that trip to southern America so was quite curious to see how a day on a boat feels, I was also very eager to see what the sea looks like at night. The ride to Santander took a little longer than it could have because we rode out of the mountain area we were in via smaller streets, but Santander is a pretty big city so eventually traffic got annoying and we were quickly on a little bit of motorway to make it to the port. Breakfast was had at a bakery, and I honestly feel like Spaniards overall are useless at it. The bread in most of Spain is poor, the pastry is also not worth writing home about, compared to Portugal and France it feels like they simply can't be bothered, regardless we did buy some bread to take to the boat for lunch and dinner, along with some cheese and sliced ham. We got to the ferry check in and it was starting to get hot by then, we were early and the boat wasn't even in yet so went for a little walk to buy a memory card, Santander center is a pretty nice place, wide modern avenues and a general happy vibe to it, I wouldn't mind spending a night there. We waited and waited under a shaded area, all the vehicles now starting to form a crowd. Out of all the vehicles, I didn't see a single non UK one except our bikes, that felt a little weird as I was expecting at least another few travelers. What also happened was that instead of patiently waiting under the shade a lot of bikers just roasted in the sun and proceeded to strip down most of their clothes, I've seen brits do that in Germany before and find it hilarious. In front of the row, the first ones to arrive, were a couple of Hells Angels guys on Harleys, behind them a few more or less classic motorcycles including a very pretty Ducati, and then us. Everyone looking happy after their stay in Spain. After a tedious wait, there it was: It took forever to unload too, annoyed me that all cars exited before the bikes as that was probably what would happen to us too. I have to say all that operation felt not very organized and a little chaotic, but I guess that's what happens with such a big number of vehicles. We were the first few bikes to board and that made me happy, no confusion for us and we were up in the cabin before most were even aboard. I quickly had a shower and changed to normal jeans and tshirt, and was childishly eager to explore and see us set off. Sofia was, however, a little less enthusiastic about the boat thing and wasn't at all looking forward to her motion sickness, previous trips hadn't been the smoothest, including one when a storm got so nasty that they diverted the boat to France. I assured her it was going to be fine since I had booked nice weather. I went and got a seat at the bar facing the front, happy to be on my first long water cross: Two hours into it, she's having something to eat to push down the sea sickness pills. I was convinced to take one too, just in case. @Sofia's look and mood was akin to a scared puppy. The cabin was tiny but helped the feeling of adventure. We crashed from the sea sickness pills side effects, a nice nap made me eager to get up and go outside for the end of the afternoon and sunset. The sea was indeed perfect for a smooth sailing, and it wasn't even that windy for being offshore. For lunch we had the bread from Santander, it was ok and I was able to push it down with the nice cheese we had, but wasn't keen on having dry bread for dinner too, so we had dinner in boat's restaurant. It wasn't the nicest meal, I did have a nice burrata and roasted vegetable "salad" with was very nice, but everything else was a little "meh". Not worth it of a picture, the sea remained call and I did enjoy having a cold bottle of wine casually sitting around as in a very overcharging shitty cafeteria, making the best of it. By night I had a nice walk to the outside, now a bit chilly out but satisfied my curiosity. At night the sea is ... dark, which is no surprise but I enjoyed how really dark it really is. The kind of dark that feels like you have your eyes shut, I liked it a lot. Really dark: We were making steady smooth progress: The cafe closed early and the pub / bar sort of place was too packed with very loud music and people, too busy, so we had an early night although I did go back outside for another look at the dark sea. I wonder if it looks darker in a less lighted boat more out in the middle of the sea. We both dozed off easily. The night went as well as could be expected, I was left wondering what all the fuss about sea sickness was about, Sofia very happy to have had her best cross ever. Arriving at Plymouth at 09:40 AM. It took forever to get off the boat and even more so to get off the port, after all the cars went out and because we were the first bikes to get into the boat we were also the last ones to get off. I was surprised at how hot it was outside and quickly took my jacket off and tied it to the back of the bike. One full hour after docking: someone is looking at every passport very carefully, which is ok as it's a proper border, but they had all been checked in Spain already and maybe it would be better to have more than two people doing the whole of the work. I had a long while to check out the Harley though, and what looks like a "sporty" Harley in online pictures really is massive and very very long, don't think it's for me. Between all the port stuff, in which nobody checked anything more than giving a quick glance at my passport, it took us the best part of the morning to get out and get rolling. We steadily got on the small road heading north through the Dartmoor, and stopped a little later for something to eat in a shady place by the road. A pasty was consumed, bought from a very nice lady's shop, Sofia was very happy to be well received by such a friendly person. Is it proper nosh? I liked the exuberance of black pepper, as I'm a pepper fan, but don't really understand the concept of potatoes inside dough, it's either meat and potatoes or meat in dough, both are confusing to me. However, it was a first taste of britain. Skies were blue and sunny, the plan was to ride through Dartmoor, through Exmoor, and then go spend the night near one of Sofia's dear friends in Swindon. This plan proved to be too ambitious, the time spent in the ferry killed it, and by the time we made it to the other shore it was clear Sofia wouldn't be meeting up with her friend. He was going on a trip after so we missed him, that caused some anxiety, and that mixed with my distaste for shedules on a motorbike trip did cause some friction between us on that first day. We were also planning on meeting with @boboneleg since we´d pass near Bristol, but time management wasn´t the most efficient on this first day, turns out Bob was away too, so that's not too bad. While we were contemplating what to do, somewhere near or in Simonsbath or Minehead. We did make it to the shore, and went to see the Lighthouse Keeper's Cottage at Foreland Point in Lynton, but fog was quickly setting in and kind of killed the views. It's a nice shore and a pretty area, but we should have given it a pass and be less stressed. On low spirits, we got on with the job of heading to where we were heading, so got on the A39 and went east. Ladies and gentlemen, if you just want to go somewhere don't hop on the A39 close to the end of the afternoon, I am not used to that. It's the worst case of british problem roads I've seen. Speed limits change every mile, you've got camera warning signs every time you blink, constant traffic, it's complete arrassment of surveillance and police patrol, and the pace of traffic is soul crushing. Sofia was getting a little bit of a shock compared to the UK she was used to a few years ago. We wanted to be in Wales the next day, because there was a set date for the Ferry to the Isle of Man, so that meant getting to near Wales that day, and in a way it was good that we got that road and traffic out of our way for next day. While all of that was happening I was dealing with riding for the first time ever on your side of the road, it felt ok and I felt confident on open roads and even on roundabouts since it's all about following the flow of traffic, but intersections were interesting. Here we were, stopped while finding a place to sleep in a pub, somewhere near Woolavington. I found the scene very English, then proceeded to set the navigation to said pub and head off down the road on the wrong side much to the surprise of a gentleman driving a 5 series BMW, I corrected my road position, an apologizing wave was waved and all was ok but Sofia did catch a fright as she was beeping her horn behind me. A decision was made to invest in a proper horn for the Speed Triple too. Overall, it was not the ideal start into our UK part of the trip, there were few tense moments through the day as there sometimes are when people travel together, and I have to confess I am a little too used to being on my own in "adventures", but we parked the bikes behind the pub away from prying eyes, had a nice shower, and proceeded to order wine and food. Showers: what is wrong with you people and your showers? Took me forever to understand showers, it´s like you're dialing the clocks on a time machine just to regulate warmer or colder water. More on that later on It was an overpriced room, but felt cozy and I was in a better mood. We were going to meet up with our friend Simon the next morning and he's always a lot of fun. I was also in a british pub so ordered fish and chips. Food took forever to arrive, 40 minutes into the wait and we were told that the chef was going to take 5 minutes to go outside since she was too hot. No alternative, but it felt a little "Morocco" to me, I smiled at the event and was now having a relaxed glass of shitty wine with my travel companion so all was good. Chunky chips were very different to what you have in Portugal (in a good way), and the fish was not codfish but some other thing. It was OKish, not going back there for the food though. I also don't understand just boiled peas as a side, it's beyond me. The people were very nice and all smiles, though. We slept well, and I was looking forward to getting back on the bike the next day and pointing it to Wales.

Not yet, give them until the weekend I was never out of touch with work, though, usually saved the laptop stuff to the end of the day but was frequently on the phone. I did get a bit fed up with it because you get to this level of anxiety that makes you feel that during the week anyone can throw a crisis on you at any moment and ruin a perfectly enjoyable trip that's meant to be relaxing.

I woke up excited to see what the Picos da Europa are all about, we started with a short ride to San Vicente de la Barquera for breakfast, a nice seaside town. The ride there felt like the Alps. And a little walk around town, it's a lovely place as far as towns go. Temperature started to rise and the little walk soon turned into a chore, we got on the bikes and moved off. Next stop was to be Cangas de Onis, now away from the sea and what may be the main town in the area. We stopped in what felt like a heatwave, my winter jacket would not have been my choice for this. We parked in the shade and went to look around the streets a little, to buy something to eat later on. A custom yellow GS, cool colour, BMW should never be without a yellow GS: Lunch purchased and packed, our next stop was to be a lookout point. There's two of them, I can't bother with looking up names, one is very popular with tourists as was very evident by the stream of cars pouring out from the access road, we took the next one. Our choice, according to Sofia's research was usually empty of tourists but had a couple kms of dirt access road, so we left the Triumph safely parked in town and got on the GS to get up the hill, my expert traveling skills made me choose what looked like a nice looking shortcut and instead of a 2km dirt access road at the end of the tarmac we ended up getting the 14km up the hill on a pretty steep gravel road. Good fun though, and the views were worth it. Back in town to get back with the Triumph, we rode off on a lovely twisty road buried deep in a river canyon, a eventually gave up on finding the ideal picnic location and settled with sitting on a wall in a cool shady area to eat our empanadas. The motorcycling was top notch after that, too, twisty roads and traffic was a non issue except for a stretch of roadworks were we got stuck behind a bus driver that had no business driving mountain roads. Some of the peaks seem to rupture from the earth very dramatically, it's very cool landscape and the roads were a surprise to me, they're very well made and you'll have fun on a slow trail bike as well as on a sports bike. Back home for a shower and a meal after a hot day on the bikes. Turns out the restaurant wasn't closed for their weekly rest but instead just closed for holidays, similar to most other places in the area, so we hoped on the GS and rode over to where we had dinner the previous day, this time enjoying a very nice sunset: Dinner was lovely, we shared a squid entre and then the bbq beef The next day we have a ferry to catch.

We didn't exactly leave at first light, after a lazy breakfast we eventually got the bikes out and made it to Spain after no more than 10 or 20 km. I always get a kick at how the road surface changes immediately when you see a border. We did a detour over a dirt road, what looked like a scenic road in the map turned out to be a few kms of gravel road over a hill, the views were nice and all but not really the stuff to which the Speed Triple and it's fancy Pirellis call home. After a bit we stopped for a taste of the shit Spaniards call coffee, pitiful really, but the rain was holding off and we were headed to proper hills and nice roads, the skies were shy about turning blue, but all was good, we rolled on. A lunch stop while all hints of bad weather vanished and temperatures climbed, and shortly after I'm being led around some lovely mountain roads. Cantabria is known for mountains, higher altitudes and green pastures, cows with plenty to graze on because of a lot of rain. We saw mostly drier rivers and reservoirs in what looks like a worrying lack of water in a high temperature September. Some lovely views and really nice roads, I now understand why this is such a migration area for motorcyclists from Portugal and the UK. Sofia had done her research and took me through the least travelled roads, which included some interesting canyon roads with very little traffic. I could get used to this. That's @Sofia down there in the road: The last hour, as the sun was starting to lower was pretty cool. The roads, the forrest, the colours reminded me of my time in the Nurburgring a while ago, it was a very nice ending to a great day on the bikes. We settled into a small countryside apartment, our base for two nights. Lovely view from the back window: There's a small restaurant the across the street from the place we were sleeping in, but turns out it was closed. We took the chance to have a nice longish walk to the next open place and it did feel nice after a warm afternoon on the bikes. A nice dinner and a (now feeling longer than the first time) walk back through Ucieda. Long day on the bikes, nice long walk, well fed, I slept soundly. The next day we would ride around the area, check a couple of nice looking roads and a few scenic locations, and come back to the same place for the night. Bonus is leaving the luggage behind for the day, although I don't really feel a big difference on the GS with it on.

I had been to the UK twice, once as a 9 year old boy with my parents, and another time for a long weekend to watch the opera in London. I remember very little from the first trip except a few spectacular moments like the assembled dinosaur bones in the museum or my little brother being chased by geese, and the second was limited to the center of London so not really a representation of the UK. I do have a few friends from England, that I met often at the Nurburgring, and also seem to get along fine with this forum. @Sofia has worked and lived in the UK before, and was missing the place a lot, she had made her mind to visit both the land and her friends on the bike since January, but I wasn´t too keen on it. People spoke of very congested roads, very high prices for everything, rain and overall bad weather, etc, all major things I usually dislike in places and make me want to give them a pass on a motorcycle trip. Sofia was very keen on it, though, and I decided to tag along mostly to see how happy she would be there, but not before giving a suggestion: I would want to go to the Isle Of Man. Going to the UK on my bike and not go to the IOM didn't make sense to me, I do love the feeling of motorsport locations when normal life is going on, there's an aura that's left in the roads or tracks, and a melancholy that really suits me. I was to go on this trip with an open mind, decided on enjoying the experience even if I didn't agree with the place, and being guided by someone that really loves it. I wasn't expecting to enjoy it like I did, but it did provide a few culture shocks. Will leave my observations to when they occur in the trip, both good and bad. I have just reviewed my pictures and I have almost 900 of them, a lot of that are motorcycles in museums though, I'll do my best to test Pete's servers but keeping it to a viewable amount ... We were to sent off from different locations and meet half was through the day in the high Douro. That suited me fine, I would leave with nothing but a 15km motorway quick ride and then make my way up the Douro valley, all on lovely twisty and scenic northern portuguese roads, little concern for formalities such as road markings and too many traffic signs ..., and then meet up for a couple of hours more before stopping in a well known previously visited location for the night and dinner. I rode with almost no specific photo stops, by 9:30 was making my first stop for a morning espresso And by 10:45 was stopping to watch the train I had shortly before passed play catch up on the other bank of the Douro river: I usually take a lot longer to get here, taking small detours forgotten roads amongst vineyards, but today was all about efficiency, I kept to the main N108 and then the 222, a lovely way to set off on a trip: Hardly ever stopping, I got to our meeting point a while ahead of schedule. Sofia was leaving Ericeira quite further away, to face a 300km (or more) motorway trip under severe rain, I just sat down outside a local cafe and had a sandwich, did a few work phone calls and settled into my favourite traveling pace, slow and take it as it comes: A while later, and after riding through a monsoon, there she arrived riding what looked like an overloaded Speed Triple: Hardly no pictures were taken that afternoon, we rode two or three hours to our final destination through Tras os Montes, and arrived just in time for a nice shower and a stroll to the restaurant enjoying a lovely September evening on the countryside. The wild berries on the way to dinner were just too tempting... We feasted on coal grilled beef. This restaurant now becoming a little bit of a friendly home away from home after a few rides, I think it would be an ideal stop on the way back home. Well fed, we strolled back to the room and had a lovely silent night. The next day, we'd point the bikes to the Picos da Europa.

Well, if one bike has always had sharp lines since forever a Katana would be it.

I have never tasted RedBull, quite proud of that!

Made it home today. Yesterday we had a lovely evening back in Portugal, and today rode to my parent’s place using mostly small roads. The absence of cameras was a shock, but we got used to it. I hope there were no cameras, too. I will look at making a ride report but I’ve got hundreds of pictures, mostly from bikes in museums, so it may take a while. Good trip, though, and we did end in a high which is always great because it dictates the mood with which you look back on it.

You have the train as an alternative, it’ll last almost the same if you arrive in France and jump straight on the motorway. Sofia went to the dreamland from sleeping pills, and now it’s nice and sunny in Santander while all other vehicles exit the boat while motorcycles wait. We shall sleep in Portugal and have a nice roast for dinner!

It seems to be kind of both ways, proved by watching water in a glass. It’s getting pretty rough now, too. We shall overcome!

She was, but now laying down under the effect of motion sickness pills. It's going to be a choppy ride, just went out and it's blowing a gale, you can sense the boat crashing down every now and again.

Sailing out of Plymouth right now, Sofia’s feelingthe waves and not enjoying it. Not me though, I’m feeling like a well seasoned sea wolf, drinking a pint and watching the rugby.

Top day yesterday, absolutely great museum and amazingly beautiful bit of Dartmoor hills with poneys. Loved it, now in a pub’s tiny room waiting for tomorrow to come and catch a boat to Spain. You have some really beautiful areas in this island but pretty shitty data connection so not able to post photos today.

No, there's a bit that wraps around the handlebar, an arm, and then the bit with the blue bit that clips onto the phone. You can leave the arm out and bolt the two end together without it. Looks like this except mine has the vibration dampener:

You can get rid of the little arm between the piece that hold onto the handlebar and the bit that holds onto the phone, and just assemble one to the other for a cleaner look.

No I didn’t. After Isle Of Man we stayes a couple of days in Wincham, rode around the Yorkshire Dales and then Peak District, then south and a couple of days in West London, then south and spent a couple of days in Lee Upon Solent, always visiting and staying with friends, and today on the New Forrest, which is the prettiest area in England in my opinion. Tomorrow will visit the Sammy Miller musem and head to near Plymouth to catch the Ferry on Sunday. I was hoping to go back near where you are but decided to spend time with some of Sofia’s very close friends, will have to save it for next time if my license plate doesn’t get banned from the UK.

Yes, Lee on the solent for the last two nights, now heading out not too far away but not sure were we’ll sleep except going to see a motoring museum. It’s been interesting, mostly visiting Sofia’s friends over the last few days. Ferry from Plymouth on Sunday.

Always nice to spend a little time on the bike by yourself on a birthday, good one.

Happy birthday Chris!

Dany’s my good mate who started riding motorcycles a little while ago but manages to ride several times to work so gaining experience with every week. He’s good people!

It was lovely scenery and pretty roads. I will leave my opinions and considerations to my ride report, but it’s being quite the culture shock.

Yorkshire Dales, two days ago: Peak District later on today, looking forward to it.