In the beginning!

Departure day is upon us.

I everything is packed, weighed and I've (hopefully) attended to all that I need.

I guess it's just a matter of waiting to fly and leaving all the little things in the hands of the gods.

Less than 5 hours till wheels up and I'm just sitting here waiting to head off. 

It's always the same, the last moments seem to drag. 

Onward and upward...Awesomeness awaits!



















You should be able to follow our progress here:




https://spotwalla.com/request.php?ck=1c19532198849b71f

testie, aren't we?

So, here we are.

Less than 2 weeks before setting off and Michi offered to take the bikes for a test-run for their weekend away (Pentecost)

On a positive note - It would appear that the newer of the two bikes had no problem.  

The other bike (who has yet to be named) started misfiring.  The problem only got worse as the weekend wore on.

Shame for their weekend

good that we discovered this problem now, not on a camp site in the west Fjords of Iceland.

The bike had to be brought back on a trailer and Michi has begun the task of dismantling, problem solving and replacing parts.

I hope that It won't be too much of a drama to rectify. 

But hey, Them's the breaks.

Vorbereitung (preparation)

Almost there, (Bald ist es soweit)

Yesterday, Scott and I met to discuss the trip; timings, stops, sights, places of interest, people, countries, gear, tools, to IBA or not to IBA and any number of related and unrelated topics.
Scott is now writing up a rough itinerary that'll cover roughly where and when we will be travelling.
For my sins, I calculated all the distances between points of interest, rest stops, bars etc.

I feel that we are now better prepared for what lies ahead of us.
Awesomeness of epic proportions.
With less than 3 weeks to go, we are well on track.

The last of the Deliveries are to come in, but I am confident that all will arrive before we jet off.

It's amazing how short 3 months actually is when you break it down.
Although the majority of the first month will be spent on preparation and then Iceland.
Iceland and The Faeroes will take almost 3 weeks.

Smyril Line contacted me last week enquiring about rego numbers of the bikes (Icelandic Ferry Co.)
Last I'd heard was that the bikes were being prepared for Summer but not actually registered.
This morning I received an email from Michi regarding TÜV (road-worthy), registration and the general state of things.

It appears that we now have two freshly registered bikes.
all there is to do now is get ourselves over to Europe, name the bikes and hit the road.

Bald geht's Los, Mädels!

After all this time, the trip is almost upon us.

It's moments like this that I am reminded of something I learnt in the Army - namely the 7 P's

Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss-Poor Performance

I can only hope that our planning has indeed been Proper and thorough enough.

Oh, I am sure there will be hiccups along the way, hurdles, challenges. Indeed, the whole thing would be a little boring if it all went smoothly, wouldn't it?

Michi and the guys of Samhain have retrieved the bikes from their winter sleep, Serviced the girls, Mounted the Engine bars and GPS cradles. All that needs to be completed is redo and test rides.

They will be given a good test ride into Harz mountains next weekend.

I'm super excited to hear how they performed.

I have yet to name the Mädels, yes they are both girls.

But girls with attitude and beauty.

In preparation for our time away, I borrowed a Paris-Dakar (Predecessor to the GS)  from Les and we set off for a couple of tours around SE QLD. Taking in the roads of Mount Nebo, Mount Glorious, Around Lake Wivenhoe, Fernvale, Beaudesert onto Canungra and back to Brisvegas.

Day two saw us heading for the border ranges, Beechmont, Numinbah, Murwillumbah, Currrumbin Valley and on to Yatala. 

The second day, being a Saturday, We came across plenty of Po-lice as part of  Operation Grenadine. I didn't get given any cordial, but they did jab a breathalyzer in my face and gave me a chamois for my support of their cause. I guess this infers that we could all "polish" our sixth sense, or some such thing. The bloke on the no-plated R1 that didn't stop may have gotten more than he counted on, but no more than he probably deserved.  I just hope he didn't meet with a tree or drop off a cliff.  Needless to say, He didn't get a commemorative Chamois.

Looking back at the rides - we did around 700 km, Awesome range roads, good and windy, no miss-haps, Scott brushed up on his skills, and we visited a load of places with silly names.  How Australian.

As time marches on and we finalise our gear and plans I feel confident that we are ready for this.  

What-ever this turns out to be, it'll be Epic.

Scott's ride in the German Sun.

The cockpit - new addition GPS mount

Same here

Engine protection in place

Sweet, sweet Ride

Test Ride - to The hoes of Wiven

Has spring Sprung?

Indeed, the days here in Australia are getting shorter, the nights longer.

I'm told that winter has ended in Europe and Spring has begun (na endlich!)

But how warm is it in Iceland at the moment? A quick check revealed temperatures of -2 to +7

Of course with a little snow thrown in.

I'm confident that it will continue to warm up over the next 10 weeks or so. 

Either that or We'll be out buying some of that well-known Icelandic knitwear.

Hell, we might just buy some anyway. 

Our plans are well afoot for our excursion to the nordic lands and beyond.  

Scott has finally purchased a helm with built in communication. I'm pretty excited to see if we can get the two units talking (literally & figuratively).  This means that we will have the ability to communicate without relying on the interpretation of wild hand gestures.  Also, we could potentially get out for a ride together and see how long it takes Scott to get his Bike legs back.  From what I understand, it's been a while since he last rode. 

But hey, what could go wrong?

Riding a bike is like,well...riding a bike.

in any case, it is what it is.

I believe we have everything in the way of gear 

including parts for servicing and readying the bikes for such an adventure.

I don't intend to use the word expedition as I believe that's reserved for groups with plenty of dosh, Extensive planning, back-up crew and contingencies written in stone.  

Sure, some sections have been planned, well planned. But for the most part, we're gonna wing it.

The rough plan has already formed in my mind, but like a weed it continues to grow, evolve, change. There will be moments of inspiration and great change followed by long periods of stagnation.  Much like the journey ahead of us.

In my research I have discovered many places of interest that I would love to visit or re-visit, Only time will tell which way this journey takes.  Places such as Finland (The country where I want to be?), Guédelon Castle, Portovenere, Greece, and many others.

Who knew there was so much to see & do in Europe.

For now I am content in the knowledge that the bikes have survived the winter, look just good as before and time continues to march on.

Euro-extravaganza

I miss Europe.

Having lived there for the majority of the past 2 decades I have gotten used to their ways and means.

I truly feel like a fish-out-of-water here in Australia
I need to get out and ride Europe

My Trans-Australis ride was just a warm up.

I'm planning on something more...something bigger

To give you a bit of background: in 2010, I rode out of the Middle-east, into Europe and kept riding for approximately 16 months. What a trip!

In 2015, I once again had the opportunity to take an extended trip around Europe (3 months this time) and I managed to travel to Iceland. 

What an amazing place to ride.
I just wish I could do that again
oops...and that's where it all begins

But how do you plan a riding adventure for a country on the other side of the world?
To tell you the truth, I'm never sure how I do much of anything.
But, I eventually get there and get it done.

As luck would have it, In 2010 I was lucky enough to be mooching around a caravan park, near Patras in Greece, taking photos of the Harleys of Europe that had turned out for the annual meet. When I happened across the president of Samhain MC, in N. Germany. Finished taking photos of their bikes (I was about to move onto the Dutch and their crazy "easy-rider-choppers") Michi offered me a beer. He wanted to know how an Australian came to speak German and be staying at the same campground not far from Olympus, Greece.  So our friendship began. The binding power of poor language skills and german beer.

So Naturally, when it came to planning a trip back to Europe, Michi was my man.
I really wanted an F800GS. but it was a bit out of my price range
So after a barrage of emails back and forth, we settled on an R1150GS.
Two, in fact. 2001 and 2002.

2017 Trans-australis

Sebastian Wale

18 September 2017

From the Right-to the left and back

I never actually had a desire to ride across Australia.

In fact, now that I think about it, riding across an entire continent in under 3 days…complete madness.  I guess that’s why I love it.

I had planned to leave on the Monday, but as is often the case, plans change.  Recently, I’d been having a few issues with the charging system and the Friday before I was to leave, it decided to die. Now, with any normal bike the alternator is accessible and an easily replaceable item. With the advent of the new R1200GS design (ca. 2013) BMW made the brave (some would say stupid) decision to place the stator at the rear of the motor, just in-front of the gearbox. Supposed to last a long time… In real terms, this means that changing out a defective unit and replacing it is a BIG job, time consuming and When you’re paying for a mechanic, that means a huge bill.  Now my Mechanic did everything he could to get my bike, Melinda, back on the road as quickly as possible and I got her back Wednesday arvo.  

I managed to Hit the road Thursday morning, taking my time with 750 - 1300 km days.  My immediate goal was to make it from Brisbane to the S.A./W.A. border by Saturday evening. No mean feat and not a ride most would consider sensible by any means, Even better.

The ride to the border (S.A./W.A.) was relatively uneventful.  I rode, I re-fuelled, I repeated.  The first day was a test of the bike & we only covered around 800kms. Next day, 1000 and third day 1200.  Plenty of wildlife along my route - kangaroos, emus, goats.  But the only thing that crossed my path & posed a potential risk was an eagle.  Maybe he was a little deaf. Eventually I arrived, Border Village, at around 1800 on the Saturday night.  Perfect timing for dinner and a couple of bevvies.  Of course, most of the other Long distance riders had arrived there the previous night. But they hadn’t had their bike rebuilt earlier in the week. The rider who'd ridden the furthest to arrive here had done over 7000 kms.  

It was good to achieve something and have a rest.  I considered staying two nights, as the next day it was drizzling and miserable. But around mid-morning the skies cleared and I decided that there was not enough here to keep my interest. So, I packed my moist tent and headed over the border and on to Norseman.  Leaving so late, I didn’t arrive at Norseman till around 1800. I was quite mindful that the wildlife would be on the move and riding could become dangerous. I wanted to get to the caravan park and put up my tent. Unfortunately, the office was closed and I had to settle for the pub. Shame that, pizza and beer for dinner.

With only my next goal in mind (Denham, Shark Bay) and a look at wave rock, I decided to get up early the next day. 0400 found me warming up Melinda and her heated grips, it was a fresh 5 degrees, but that was soon to change and it got down to an exceedingly stupid -0.5.

The difference between 5 and -0.5 is enormous.  It was brass-Monkey cold, it couldn’t have been colder if it had snowed.  Now that I think about it, it would have warmed up had it snowed.  I was constantly being “reminded” by Melinda to beware of ICE!

Wave rock added another 300-500 km to my trip, but what’s a few hundred compared to 10k?  As for the rock…I saw it, I stood on it, it was shaped like a wave.

After wave rock, it was onward and upward. Heading toward Denham, Shark bay, The most westerly point on the Australian Mainland (depending upon your reference).  6 days and 5000+ km  I arrived at my destination.

An area shrouded in some dark Australian history; pearl harvesting, fishing, dolphin feeding and of course the migration of the Grey Nomad.  I settled into the caravan park, spitting distance from the beach and set up camp.  5 days I was to rest and prepare myself for my next challenge, the return journey.  

I love long distance riding, I love non-stop riding, I love doing things others shy away from, I just love it.

The plan was to ride from the most westerly point (namely Denham) to the most easterly point (Byron Bay) in 3 days or less.  Easy-peasy, I hear you say. The ride ended up being around (exactly) 5120.9 km and I achieved it in 68.5 hours.  Well-under my 72 hour goal.  Now some will ask “so, how fast (speed) did you cross the Nulabor?”  But my whole approach to long distance/endurance riding is: managing fatigue, speed, rest, nutrition and unseen events.  I didn’t have to speed.  Although for a country so insanely massive our speed limits are way too low. I mean seriously, if we had a national speed limit on highways/motorways of 130 km/h I could have saved 10 hours. That is not an insignificant amount of time.  For most, that’s more than a day’s drive. (an argument for another time)

Anyway, I stayed within the speed limit of each state (even more of a challenge to achieve my goal). I rested well, even slept a few times, I ate properly, and had time to attend to a spotlight repair.  

The ride itself was just like any other ride.  I was not entirely familiar with the different rest-stops we have in Australia, but now I believe I am a little wiser. I found places to rest, places to pitch my tent and sleep, places to eat.  I was impressed with how good I felt after a few hours off the bike, resting against a tree or in my tent and with a little food in my belly.  

Somewhere, in the early part of the ride (2nd day) I noticed in the distance along the Nulabor, a  gigantic piece of machinery was approaching.  Escorts, flashing lights, making painfully slow progress. I wasn’t at all sure if what I saw coming my way was indeed real.  It seemed to be wider than the actual road. Now mind, this is the major road that connects the East-Coast of Australia with the West-Coast. Could this be a thing? I slowed to 100, then 80, then 60. It was then that I realised it was indeed that big and covered the entire paved surface. I was tempted to duck and continue (bit silly really). The approaching Behemoth did recognise that I was there and it attempted to make room for myself, I wasn’t at all convinced that there was enough room and decided that the verge was probably the safest place for me to pass.  This is the same verge that I had been eyeing earlier with suspicion. It sloped away from the asphalt road, looked to be covered in a loose, coarse, soft, slippery, dangerous for motorcycles, gravel.  Once I left the relative safety of the paved surface for the verge, I discovered that it was indeed covered in a loose, coarse, soft, slippery, dangerous for motorcycles, gravel.  Oh, and I was still at speed.  I suppose it’s moments like this that people say “their life flashed before their eyes” what a load of rubbish. It’s moments like this that I wish I were a better rider. Despite every fibre in my body screaming BRAKE AND SLOW DOWN, I quickly realised that that was not what I needed to do. Washing speed off caused the bike to become unsteady and wobble. My only other option was to give a bit ‘o gas, power through this and re-mount the tarmac.  The whole time thinking that I would go down, bite the dirt and become laughing stock of the transports’ escorts.  I actually managed to power through this, I mounted the road, I looked around and with an air of “I do my own stunts” and I powered off along the Nulabor. I’m quite sure that the escorts and others had been looking-on and thinking that I was going to go down like a fat kid on a see-saw (or lead balloon).  To tell the truth, when I stopped about ten minutes later for a “rest” and reflected, so did I.

Just before the NSW border I fuelled up in Yunta, SA. Here I got chatting with a member of the constabulary, on escort duty.  His normal service vehicle was a BMW R1200RT but today he had the relative comfort of a marked Ford Territory. We chatted about bikes, how he could never afford the service costs associated with the BMW on his wage, and other bike stuff. They were accompanying another massive piece of mining machinery  that was heading to Broken Hill.  From Yunta, Broken Hill was about a 2 hour ride or so. The friendly policeman indicated that if I were to get stuck behind them then I would be unable to pass. That would mean that my times would be totally thrown out.  I had to hurry, Instead of having a 5 minute break and coffee, I quickly finished refuelling, paid and got back on my trusty steed. The trucks were warming up and the flashing lights were flashing. I don’t know if they waited for me to get underway, but I have a sneaky feeling that said policeman delayed their departure somewhat. 

Just over the SA border is a flat expanse, broken only by the rest stop Little Topar. This place often experiences strong winds and today was no exception. With an awesomely, powerful Northerly attempting to blow me off the plain and temperatures in excess of 34 degrees, it was not my most pleasant day on a bike.   Starting out my ride the previous day at Denham, I still had on my thermals and was quickly overheating.  Dehydration is a major enemy of concentration and endurance.  I quickly got changed, but had lost way too much water.  But it could have been worse, and I was still hanging out for a proper coffee.  All that was on offer in Little Topar was an urn of boiling water and a tin of what someone had called “instant” coffee.  I grabbed a quick mug, chugged it down and was on my way.  Another mug of this drink was unnecessary. 

In preparation for this type of ride, as Australia seems to have the stupidest animals who are hell-bend on committing suicide by traffic, I contacted Clearwater (CA) and purchased a hybrid kit of one Erica and one Sevina.  The amount of light generated by this combination is equivalent to that of several small suns jammed into a couple of Vegemite jars.  In other-words, very, very, very, very bright.  Bright enough to raise the eye-brows of more than a few truckers’.  I have the ability to identify lane markings, cats-eyes, road-markers etc approximately 1-2 kms away.  Unfortunately, on my last evening, just around dusk, my lights began to flicker, then they would spontaneously strobe (not groovy), finally they completely failed.  Now, I’m not afraid of the dark, but the only time I saw and roos on my journey was after the lights failed.  As I was travelling through rural areas, plenty of road-kill, I decided to drop my speed by 10-15 km/h, not good when the clock is ticking.   My next fuel and food stop just happened to be at a large roadhouse (Gilandra), perfect for a bit of road-side repair work.  Having re-fuelled, had a good feed, something to drink and feeling rested, I attacked the lights.  Beginning with all the connections, the CAN-buster and finally the fuse.  The Fuse! Why did I not start here?  Once I discovered where the problem lay, I spoke with the station attendant and asked if she had one of these - holding up said fuse. Fully expecting to be charged an arm & a leg for a replacement, she replied with “I’m sure I’ve seen a few of those lying around here somewhere” After a bit of rummaging through several draws, she managed to produce 3 fine specimens, all of which she gave me and wouldn’t let me pay.  Having installed the fuse, I discovered that the Sevina had completely failed but the Erica still came on (searing my retinas in the process).  I guess one small sun will have to do the job.  Off I rode, into the darkness of Central New south Wales.

Around this time I had a bit of a glance at my rear tyre. Now, my tyres were renewed not long before I left for the trip. The front was sweet as, at least half it’s life remaining, but the rear…well, I was a little worried that I would have to stop and source new rubber.  Upon closer inspection, I did have tread, just enough to keep going, although it was no longer round.  I guess the combination of heat, cold, poor roads, rough roads, long straights with minimal curves took their toll on my rubber.

Not long after this point I decided that I was sick of sticking to the major roads and wanted something a bit more biker friendly and fun.  I ended up riding through the Gibraltar Ranges.  I had never heard of the place and to say that I was pleasantly surprised is an understatement. Slightly west of Grafton, absolutely amazing and definitely the highlight of my 10k + km ride across Australia and back.  I would even go as far as to say that it could be one of my favourite roads in the world. Maybe the time of day had something to do with it, but this was near the end of a 3 day marathon, early hours of the morning, just before day-break, I had the roads through these ranges to myself.  I did note that there was plenty of roadworks underway and am sure that during the day the road would have been down to one lane for many kilometres, controlled by traffic lights. But by beating the commuters it was absolutely amazing.  Along this road there is a camp site/caravan park, Jackadgery where I re-fuelled, maybe a destination for my next ride?

From here I headed onward to Byron and my destination.  I arrived at 0759, taking timezones into account, I had definitely done it in less than 3 days.  What a relief, what a blast! 

What have I taken away from this experience?  Australia is so stupidly, enormously massive.  But three days is more than enough time to cover this distance.  There is more to Australia than meets the eye.  I’m very surprised (and glad) that I didn’t come across more wildlife. 

Saying all this, I’ve made some serious decisions about my next adventure.  Just this past week I purchased a 2001, R1150GS, in Germany.  I plan, amongst other rides, to circumnavigate Iceland in one day, ride Nordkapp, Norway - Gibraltar in under 3 days (5,500 kms) and maybe even ride the FHB in under 48 hours, again.

Down Under

It's been a while since I updated this thing...been a busy boy.

I've been back in Australia since October 2015 and am still struggling with not being in Europe.

The distances here are just massive

Since then, I have submitted and been awarded my Irish IBA - FHB 48 certificate.

My greatest ride yet. 

I have also been in contact with the Australian IBA and they held their Inaugural Muster in Parkes, NSW. 

Well, What better time to do my first Australian ride. So, here goes!

I didn't really plan or think about such things as petrol stations. Hey, in Europe they're accessible 24/7.

But this is not bloody Europe, is it?

Inaugural IBA Muster - Parkes, NSW, Australia

The ride to Parkes has to include an IBA certified ride, I chose the easiest (SS1600K) for my first certified Australian ride.  Not all went to plan.

The check-in time was to me 14:00 hours in Parkes.  So, I planned to firstly ride out west to Charleville, then south to Parkes. Sounds so simple, right?  Wrong!

I left home around 14:00, 01/07/16. Witnessed by my cousin, Ben.

The ride out to Roma was extremely uneventful. I know that there is a 24 hour petrol stop in Roma, but figured I could get some in Mitchell, 86 km away. I arrived in Mitchell to discover that I was oh-so-wrong. The petrol station had closed about 1 hour prior to my arrival.  Bugger!

My only option was to return to Roma (or wait till morning) 

So, back I rode. frustrated but successful. Fully tanked, I headed back west, direction Charleville.  This is where I should start to ride in a Southerly direction after refuelling. 

Unfortunately, the universe didn't want to play along.  I arrived in Charleville around 01:00 hours to find that the last petrol station closed at around 22:00 hours and opened around 05:00 hours.

What the hell is this?

I drove around looking for other possibilities, tried (unsuccessfully) to wave down a passing Taxi to ask for information. Eventually, I flagged down the local garbo, figuring if anyone knew where I could fuel up, they would.  "Kel" informed me that I was out of luck and that I'd have to wait till 05:00 hours.  So, I pulled up in the car-park opposite the servo, whipped out my sleeping bag and mat and got ready for the wait.  A couple of hours' rest would be good for me but would take it close to the wire.

At around 02:00 hours Kel turned up at the petrol station looking for me.  Her Garbage truck had broken down and she had some time to kill. She then asked me if I knew how to syphon petrol from a car, as she had 1/4 tank in hers and wanted to offer me some help.  I jumped at the offer, unfortunately modern cars have a safety mechanism that prevents syphoning fuel and we were unable to pass the hose into the tank, just my luck.  After a few failed attempts Kel suggested we go back to hers as she had a ride-on mower and other engines in the shed.  We managed to find enough fuel to get me to the next fuel stop, Cunnamulla, I even had about 10kms to spare.

I left Charleville around 03:00 hours, heading south.  At around 05:00 hours I came across hundreds of kangaroos, both dead and alive.  Kangaroos, unlike other animals, panic when they see a vehicle.  and have a death wish, they can't seem to decide where it is safer for them. I'm sure that their thought process goes something like this: 

"Oh Bugger, a Motorcycle. 

Think I'll cross the road as it's safer over there (half way across) 

No, it's not, it's safer where I was.  

No, wait, I think I'll just head into the light.  

Aaaarrrrggggghhhhhh!!!!!!!!!"  

Stupid animal.

and it's a strange thing, at first thew all came from my left, then after a while they all came from the right, and then a little later the left again.  I wonder if they have meetings about this? 

So, try as hard as they could, one of them really wanted to be hit and crossed my path just at the right moment, it's tail making contact with my spotlight which was pushed back and smashed my RHS fairing...

At least that's all that happened, no dead roo, no dead Melinda and no dead Skippy

Wallabies, on the other hand would rather ignore you and stay safe.  I only saw one Emu, he was minding his own business.

Around 06:40 hours I stopped for a sunrise photo (see below)

Finally, I arrived in Parkes, NSW at about 12:55 hours to fuel up. A total of 1,850 km in 23 hours, I had achieved my first Australian SS1600K.

I then proceeded to the meeting point, Parkes RSL. I registered, submitted my paperwork and then headed over to the Settlers Inn (just across the road) for a much needed rest.

That evening we all assembled back in the RSL, over 100 riders from all over Australia. Many had travelled much further than I with at least 3 from Perth.

Certificates were presented, stories swapped, dinner, drinks, camaraderie.  Not long after, I headed back to the hotel and bed...I was wrecked.

The next morning I got up nice and early, checked out and assembled with the others for a ride out to "the Dish" and group photo.  After a bit of brekkie, another catch-up and chit-chat, I then mounted my trusty steed and headed off in the direction of Brisvegas, QLD (990 kms away).  I wasn't sure if I'd do it in one leg or stop the night. That's the wonderful thing about long-distance riding, you can do whatever you like.

After an uneventful north-easterly ride I arrived home around 21:30 hours.

A great weekend was had, some 2807 kms ridden and met some great people.

I hope to meet with them all again in the future.

The Certificate tells all!

Post-Kangaroo strike

In the middle of no-where, cold as balls!

Level-up!

Some of the bikes which took part!

What did you do this weekend?

´Stralia

Whoa...

boy time flies when you're having fun. 

I made the FHB ride, just waiting to hear back form the Irish IBA

Not that it was easy, guess that's the point. 

Long distance riding isn't for everybody.

I think I mentioned that I was heading to the Island of Hvar, Croatia for a few days.

My friend Valentina put me up in one of her apartments and I stayed there for 5 days.  

Enjoying their hospitality, the island, their village, the sea, the wine and good food.

What a totally amazing place, and an amazing time was had. 

If there were one place I could head back to tomorrow, it would be here.

Famous tree-on-bridge

I even made it to the UK and spent a week in Scotland with Lorraine. 

We even made it as far as Harris and was able to check out the actual Harris tweed at it's source.

A weekend away was a welcome break from my constant travelling.  

Scotland is always special for me and made even better by my mate.  

I did so much in the past few months, I've probably forgotten more than most have done.

A Scottish beach, noice!

The remotest tennis court in Scotland? Ask Andy Murray's mum!

The Most westerly point on the UK mainland.

Build it on a swamp? why not? 

Again!

Camden town

After Scotland, a week in London was necessary to say goodbye. 

Henning and Ronan made that possible, thanks.

Europe, Scotland, Europe...it all seems like a dream now.  The adventures, the dramas

The miles, the friends - both new and old, the places and the sights.

I made it back to Australia at the beginning of October. 

I've been working since the 21st, didn't waste any time.

It's a bit strange being back in the normal workforce, not that agency is normal.

Night duty at the moment.

Getting used to being back in Australia, near family and friends, looking for a home for the Wandering Sebastabator.

I may have found one, but time will tell. the bank wants 3 months work history...hummmmm

A coldie at the cricket

My nieces seem to like Melinda.

Girly car dayz

its been over 10 days since I had Melinda picked up by the breakdown service.
But, I've not let that put an end to my travels.
After picking up the hire car, what a rigmoral.
It took from the early morning till 1900 to get the car sorted, but eventually I Did.
I arrived in Ljubljana a couple of days ago & managed to catch up with an old friend, Tina.
Not before I bumped into Ivan, the crazy Serb-Croat at the bar in the campgrounds.
I just wanted a quick beer before I had dinner and met with Tina.
He called me over to the bar and started buying drinks. He was on white wine, so I had the same.

But wait, let me go back a little. Since I last wrote, I caught up with a few old friends in Kassel,
I attended Thomas' birthday dinner, spent loads of time with Jay.
Rode from Kassel to Trondheim, Norway to begin my FHB-48.
On the way to Trondheim, I was involved in an accident. No damage to Melinda, apart from scratched crash-bars. Guess that's why they're called crash-bars. Can't say the same for the car, though.
Couple o' new doors will fix her up.
Yes, I came off. Yes, I believe the car was at fault.
No, my life didn't flash before my eyes, I was too busy trying to avoid a disaster.
I made it to Trondheim, performed a few minor repairs and rested.
The next day o started my ride, to Fucking, Hell and Bach.
It was pure hell, but worth every butt-numbing kilometre
Around 3,300 km.
and I bloody loved every single one of them.

After completing the FHB-48, I rested. Not before noticing a problem with the front suspension.
I think Melinda developed a leaky fork seal and/or a problem with the front wheel bearings.
Not too sure, the next day I contacted BMW breakdown, they picked the bike up on the Friday and have had it ever since (14/08/2015)
That night I stayed in the Pullman, Toulouse, next day I picked up the gay-girly-fiat 500c in which I'm now travelling and mentioned at the start of this entry.
A bit of a different ride to Melinda, but it has a convertible roof :-)
Next day I headed south to Lagrasse, near Carcassonne.
After that I joined Anna and the kids at La Mole, Katharina's place.
Stayed the night, then we all travelled together to pick up Jay at Nice airport then onto Genoa, Italy.
We all stayed there 3 nights and explored Genoa.
Next, onto Lake Como where we spent 2 nights. Took a boat ride around the lake and a few local towns, Cernobio and Como. Had an awesome lunch together.
The next day we went our separate ways, they headed to Zurich and I, Ljubljana.
I was to meet with an old friend, Tina, in town.
Before that, I met Ivan the crazy Serb-Croat who insisted on buying me drinks in large quantities.
I don't think I was in any fit state when I met up with Tina, but I never am :-)
Next day I headed into the castle and spent the afternoon being entertained by the walking tour. It was informative & fun. That evening I met a young Italian couple travelling by motorcycle travelling through.
Next day, I decided to join the bicycle tour of Ljubljana and met Chris, a retired Emirated Captain. We got on like a house on fire and had similar interests - beer
So, we hit the brewery, ate, took a tour and then proceeded to partake of the amber liquid
We also found a great restaurant and (influenced by beer) decided to travel together for a while.
Tuesday, we headed for Zagreb via Novo Mesto. Novo Mesto gave us nothing more than lunch and we decided to head East, over the border, to Zagreb.
We checked out Zagreb, decided we liked it and had a great time.
Following day we headed to Belgrade. Trying to find a campground here was no easy task. After a 90min border crossing we wanted nothing more than a few beers and a bit to eat. Searching for the campground, we crossed Belgrade 3 times and found 2 camps that either didn't exist or had closed 3-4 years previous. Bugger.
At our 3rd attempt, we were successful, but the entry road didn't look too promising. We arrived there many hours later than planned, but as we had nothing planned, it didn't really matter.
At least the bar was open and Chris had some grub in his van. Dinner was served.
Next day we headed into Belgrade, after a late start.
We had a bit of a look round, some awesome ribs, several beers then decided on a walking tour. The trouble was quite long, the guide knowledgable but a bit long-winded. We then had dinner in "My hat" traditional Serbian fare - absolutely awesome grub. We felt a bit wiped out by the previous days' drinking but nothing a couple more beers couldn't fix.
Finally, we managed to get a train back to the camp, had a goodbye bevvy then the end of the day.
Today we said our goodbyes. Chris is heading into Hungary today, I've decided to head to the Island of Hvar, Croatia. I have a friend down there who invited me a while ago. And I need some beach time.
I don't expect to hear anything about Melinda till Tuesday at the earliest, so a weekend on the island it is.
No real plans except to travel. Truly, I am living the life of Riley.

Moving but standing still...

I find myself still in Kassel. Not that that's such a bad thing, it's only been a couple of weeks and there have been plenty of good times as well as reminiscing.

After landing in Denmark, I rode straight to schwaförden and my mate Michi.
Here, we fit new tyres (12,000km +) it seems that Iceland managed to kill my rear one.
I also was able to perform the service and get Melinda ready for another 10,000-15,000 km around Europe. You may scoff at the big numbers, but to me they are only distractions, markers to be glanced at as they roll by.
The achievement is journey, the destination is mostly only there to give direction and make it easier to explain to others. There is no real destination.
Rambling!!!

Anyway, last weekend was the 30th anniversary of Samhain M/C and I convinced Jay to join me there. He even rode pillion, 254km each way. Quite an achievement for a novice.
From the moment we arrived our proverbial cups overflowed with kindness, friendship and drink. What a night. It's always a good time up with the club. With the good food, good mood, 300-400 bikers, beer, cocktails, camping, ceremonies, shots, fire-breathing strippers, burn-outs, a night to remember.
The next day we returned to Kassel, a little worse for wear & decided to visit the thermal baths for some much needed recovery.  As I learned in Iceland, there is nothing better than swimming, sauna, steam-rooms to help the body and mind heal.

This past week I've been spending some quality time with Jay, Bomb (Anna) and the kids drove to St Tropez last weekend.
I even managed to sit in on Jay's band practice a couple of times and just do normal stuff.

Enough of that.
I've started getting ready for the next phase of my journey.
I shall embark upon my first IBA of 2015. This will be my second attempt of the FHB-48. Hopefully
this time I'll be successful.   The ride: Fucking, Hell and Bach in 48 hours. Over 2000 miles. Last time I started in Bach, France rode across to Fucking, Austria and on to Hell, Norway. This time I shall begin my ride in the north and travel South. After reading a few reviews, this seems the most likely route that will be successful.

So, today I shall wash, pack Melinda, pick up a few supplies, and ready myself.
Another important part of my preparation was to replace the original seat on Melinda. The old one was extremely soft, didn't offer much in the way of support and became uncomfortable very quickly.
I got the name of a guy who reupholsters motorcycle seats from Tobias, a German biker I met in Iceland.
I guess this ride will be the ultimate test.

Tomorrow morning I'll be back on the road again and heading north so I may eventually head South.