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The
ride down to meet Stevie in Bracknell was
uneventful, even though heavy rain is forecast
the God’s are smiling on me with dry
roads. After our grub, we’re kitting
up for departure through the Chunnel to Calais
for out first night on the continent. A text
reads “Hope you’re not using the
Chunnel”, we check on-line and find
Chunnel is alight, deep joy. Not helped by
the Pope visiting Paris, its total chaos as
other ferry websites crash and phones ring
permanently engaged.
We’re über organised this year
on Motoeuro with accommodation booked most
nights and we’ve planned our route to
take in the best roads Europe has to offer,
this could be our undoing if we can't get
to France by tomorrow. Dammit.
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I
don’t usually have good ideas but when
they arrive, they are good ‘uns. Portsmouth!
The lovely people at Brittany Ferrys can squeeze
us on the slow, overnighter with our bikes but
nowhere to sleep – book it. By the time
you could say “Wouldn’t be funny
if the ferry was ablaze too” we’re
leaving Tesco with full tanks of fuel and a
new pair of shorts for Spelky as I forgot my
trunks for the beach (optimistic eh?). We join
the queue at 11pm along with lots of other bikers
and mention our trip which is met with a sharp
intake of breath from everyone, our blinding
optimism is obvious to all, and they wish us
well. The crew tie our bikes down, we grab some
beers and endure a night on the floor. Next
morning our deck is called for departure just
as we pay for brekky, oh, for God’s sake… |
| Motoeuro
2008 - The adventure starts here. |
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It’s silly-o’clock
when we ride in to the French morning at Caen.
We’ve got even more miles to do today
thanks to this diversion but we’re in
good form as we set off on the A13 towards
Paris, then the A6. Sun is out and the motorways
mean a swift pace, we do so well that the
last 90 miles is spent on the N6 through small
quaint villages like Bessy sur Cure and Lucy
sur Cure, I sing Beatles songs for no apparent
reason and we stop for lovely French coffee.
After parking up in the Hotel’s grounds
we visit on Dijon city centre, which is far
better than I thought. Beer, Pasta, bed, 340
miles gone today and we’re getting close
to Geneva.
It looks like rain today, waterproofs on we’re
away after breakfast by 8am. We take the A39
then the A381 towards Champagnole then on
to the N5. The rain is manic, angry rain that
does not leave us alone. Riding the twisties
out of Morez along the D1005 to Gex, Stevie
loses the back end and my front tyre washes
out slightly, time to stop for grub in Gex.
These are great roads but we can't take advantage
of them in these conditions. Pull in undercover
at what looks like a café, turns out
to be a kebab / burger place but the owner
is happy to see us along with our soaking
wet kit. Coffee, kebab, frites and salad ordered
we try to get warm, we’re soaking and
cold but we laugh when Stevie pulls a chip
out of his meal with a live caterpillar trying
to get away…. “Bit too fresh,
mine”.
Leaving Gex, my bike is sounding like a VTR,
oh, look the exhaust is loose. A quick, wet,
roadside fix where the end-can joins the pipes
means we can carry on but this isn’t
a permanent solution. The E25 leads us into
Switzerland and the top of Lake Geneva, its
stunning even in these wet conditions, long,
long hillside tunnels give us a brief rest
from the rain. We start to climb into the
mist to our hotel for the night in La Chapelle
d’Abondance. My bike is now sounding
like a Ducati, we stop at an undercover garage
so I can get stuck in without getting lashed
on. The rain has gone, but we now have thick
mist and wet roads as we ride into the clouds,
they are so twisty but we’re riding
with caution as visibility can't be more than
10 metres. Very tired, cold and in need of
beer we reach the small village of Abondance,
the sat-nav is now on to help us find the
hotel but takes us off piste up a thin tarmac
road which soon turns out to be a dirt track,
the VFR is losing grip everywhere, we’re
knackered, cold and hungry but Stevie rides
on, “I’ll check to see if it’s
up here” he points to a dirt-track which
is more suited to farm vehicles than bikes.
I stay behind and light up a smoke, 5 mins
later my phone jumps into life, “Thank
God, he’s found it” I say out
load. “Dave, I need your help, I’ve
crashed my bike”.
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VFR’s
don’t normally go off-road, how the hell
I didn’t drop her or spin the back end
round I will never know. I see Stevie in the
distance up another bloody hillside track. Don’t
ask us how we managed to lift 280kgs of R1150GS,
do a 23 point turn to get the bugger back down
that hill, thank God the brakes aren’t
servo assisted. Blood pressure getting lower
we see the first people we’ve seen in
hours, an older man with what looks to be his
daughter (or he’s rich) “Parlez-vous
Anglais S'il vous plait ?”, I ask, the
old man replies, “Oh, yes and my daughter
speaks French if that helps?” I could
kiss him.
I show him the Hotel name and ask him for directions,
“Oh, that’s a lovely hotel”,
yes we know thanks. He adds “It’s
got a Jacuzzi and everything you know”.
Yes, we know thanks. WHERE IS IT!! We’ve
just missed it when we came off the main village
drag, we thank them and ride like the devil
himself down the tracks to enter reception dripping
with water and mud.
“Hello. Welcome. You should try our swimming
pool” said the girl at Reception. I am
about to explode with joy or collapse with relief.
Big beers, Jacuzzi, heated pool, herbal sauna
– Fan-bloody-tastic !!!! Stevie does his
‘bomb’ impression into the pool,
which he finds hilarious, but the woman in the
lounger doesn’t agree as she wipes water
off her 6 month old baby, ahem. Later, after
reception have dried all our kit, we dine a
La Carte, supp ice cold beer and retire after
one of the most exciting, adventurous and terrifying
days of motorcycling in my life. I wouldn’t
swap this for anything. But, what’s tomorrow
got in store…… |
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We wander down to an
indulgent breakfast, we’ll need it today
as the clouds haven’t lifted, you could
almost touch these thick sponges, they seem
so close. The Hotel owner asks us to stay
another night as the weather is bad in the
Alps today, we’re aiming for Col du
Grand St Bernard and we can't wait –
sorry, pet. It remains to see if she is a
good sales women or a saint.
Through Chatel, we pick up the D22 and enter
the twisties out of the hills, the roads are
getting dry as we descend and within 30 minutes
it’s perfect – Hurrah! The E27
takes us through Saint Maurice and on to Bourge
Saint Pierre, Bourge Saint Bernard and on
to the magnificent SS27 to Grand St Bernard.
We stop for fuel loving these dry, perfectly
tarmaced twisty roads, 4 lads call in on Ducati’s
and one on a new KTM RC8, they’re off
in a hurry on the same roads as us. Near the
top of Grand St Bernard you’ve got a
choice; go through the tunnel and miss off
the summit or ride the SS27 into Italy. Of
course, we ride the SS27 into the clouds and
mist.
A few corners later we see one of our Ducati
friends with his bike in bits. Looks like
he has high-sided it, the fairing is not looking
nice, his mates wave us past and eventually
we get to the summit where it’s snowing.
No, I am not kidding. Reminds me of the Stelvio
Pass, cold, snowy but there’s a restaurant
where I order “quatre café au
lait – grand SVP” and soup. Can't
remember the French for bread but when the
soup arrives, of course its consommé.
Damn. An older couple next to us are taking
photos of themselves with pictures of St.
Bernard dogs (hence the name, geddit?), so
I offer to take their picture in exchange
for their left over bread. Oh, the shame.
They feel so sorry for us and offer chips
too. Our reaction is to decline with thanks......pity,
really.
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Back
on the bikes, we ride over the summit from Switzerland
into Italy (and this tunnel in the rock face),
where border control is one bloke waving us
through. The clouds lift immediately and we’re
welcomed to Italy with dry, warm roads. The
SS27 doesn’t disappoint as we head further
down this amazing road to Morgex off the E25.
The SS26 is just as good through La Thuile,
is that the pegs down? We climb once again to
Petite St Bernard where the clouds thicken once
more, the mist is dense and its funny to think
a short while ago we were leaning into those
corners like Rossi fans. It's eerie at the top,
with small chapels abandoned and ski lifts almost
ready for the main season. There’s no-one
around but as we stop for photos we see though
the clouds where we are headed for tonight –
Seez. It’s a long way in the distance
and the only things between us are corners.
Lots of them. The D1090 is truly a biker's paradise.
The ride down is frankly mental, the clouds
and mist are well gone and these dry roads in
the late afternoon sun are fantastic. Stevie
and I are on our sides and loving every minute.
We don’t stop until we’re In Seez,
think my tyres are melting. Turns out, thanks
to the sat nav, we are staying just outside
in Aime on the N90, good job we checked. Longis
Hotels are highly recommended, food is amazing.
Our steaks are cooked on a charcoal fire in
the restaurant by the Chef, we enjoy a beer,
wine with our grub, then a swift Kronenburg
before bed – we’ve seen so much
today it’s hard to take it all in, what
an absolute blast. Oh, and as you can probably
work out, she was a good sales women, eh?
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