'Round the World with an Italian Supermodel

Those reading along and living vicariously no doubt have little difficulty imagining what it might feel like to be doing what I'm doing. I tend to avoid my subjective opinions that could interfere with your idea of what the experience is like. I don't intend to ruin it now after all this time, but I do think it merits at least an overview that I hope won't spoil any of the fun.

It's been 3 years now since I've been on the road in one form or another. Clearly I'm not miserable. But all the great suggestions above on where to go and what to see illustrate one of the more serious side effects of travel: the inability to do it all. Turning right instead of left, going straight vs. stopping, heading north instead of south lead to destinations that, no matter how incredible or disastrous, can't help but leave me curious as to what would have happened had I chosen a different course (which includes not moving at all). The world is filled with a potential of experience that, yes, can even be discovered in the real world, even if that reality is diluted by a 40 hour work week, pragmatic concerns and obligations of responsibility.

I started writing this post with the intention of providing insight into the nature of this kind of life, but I've changed my mind. For those sitting at your desk reading this instead of working, dreaming of what this life is like, here's something better: after work, break routine (or just leave now). Walk out the door and go. A mile away, 50 miles away. No maps, no rehearsing, no planning, no thinking. Just go. Lie to anyone who might wonder where you are (they'll never get it). Head to the hills or the beach or desert or gritty urban areas. Look for parks, lakes, rivers, interesting roads, isolated, empty sections of land. Get out. Sit on a bench. Stare. Break routine. Go where you've not gone before. Because, when it comes down to it, that's all I'm doing.

Very pretty, rain has its own colours and atmosphere, sometimes refreshing the eyes

Camera updates:
My RX100 (which has been with me since Boston) stopped working while on my Scrambler adventure. SUCKS! Loved the patina it had going on. Fixing it was as much as a new camera, so I upgraded to an RX100 III, which as far as I can tell is pretty much the same (other than it costing more). I'm not traveling with my RX1-R anymore. Just too big and bulky. My iPhone 4 has been replaced by an iPhone 6, but unfortunately it won't sync to my Macbook after an update. Joy joy!

Enthusiasm for exploring a new place on Earth is typically great enough for me to not regret leaving whatever place I might be. But Ireland was tough. I did not want to go, but I was going anyways. My only consolation: it'll be there whenever I want to return.

Onward: Ferry Crossings.

I covered ferry crossings before, but always get a few questions about the process from those who've never done it before, so here goes.

1) Book your .... online. Write down reference number.
2) Arrive. Signs for miles will be posted. If you don't speak the language, look for this:



3) Once in the port, follow the signs to your ferry operator. Multiple ferry companies often use the same port, so make sure you take the one you bought your ticket on (e.g. Irish Ferries, not Irish Fairies!).
4) Ride up to gate. Provide Reference number. They'll tell you where to go (Line up in lane 15, etc.) If it's a border, you'll be asked questions, so get your story ready (I'll be riding to Lyon and will be there for 6 days. Staying at the Off-Ramp in. Then it's on to Germany.)


4b) Once through, you'll sit in another line where you'll wait until they're ready to board.


5) Follow their hand signals of where to go/where to park your bike.
6) Watch them strap your bike down. (Keep it in gear, yo.)


7) Walk upstairs, say hello to Julie, Captain Stubing, Doc and Gopher.


8) Enjoy the view


8) Go back downstairs when they announce you should go back downstairs and hope to see your bike upright.

The lack of people in all your shots of Ireland I find very appealing. Your spontaneous free form travel would always have to put you where you need to be at just the right moment in time. Thanks for the post's. Steve

centeroff said:

The lack of people in all your shots of Ireland I find very appealing. Your spontaneous free form travel would always have to put you where you need to be at just the right moment in time. Thanks for the post's. Steve

Click to expand...

You hit upon an interesting theme here...but if you look back you'll notice people are conspicuously absent from most of my pictures. I tend to gravitate towards voids. Ireland has a lot of them, but not quite as much as, say, Spain (or Death Valley!).

Now, I don't want to blow the surprise for any of you who haven't done an extensive trip on a motorbike, but most of it sucks. Long hours in the saddle, boring roads, weather, crapulent hotel rooms, road closures, traffic, bad food, no food, broken toll booths, etc. If ride reports were realistic, readers would be crushed to death by boredom and no one would read them. You survive--and enjoy--long rides by ignoring all that crap. You stay motivated because you know that, if you keep going, you'll see or experience something you'll remember for the rest of your life. Something that'll change you. You don't get that with comfort or predictability, so you take the hit and keep your eyes peeled for something worthwhile and memorable.

One of my greatest motivators are these 'environmental influences' that implant themselves inside me. Certain places nail you in the gut with a 'feeling', a perfect, all-encompassing memory of a particular, peculiar event in time and space. For me, these only happen in solitude and they only happen in random places, like on the edge of a cornfield as a storm approaches or near an irrigation ditch or on the side of a dirt pile on a back road. For a minute or two it's as if the environment funnels all of its energy into you and leaves an imprint that lasts a lifetime. It's as if, instead of me looking out over the landscape, the landscape peers inside of me, leaving its impression imprinted forever.

My mental states tend to be caustic. So to get outside and be free and hear the birds chirping, see waves crashing or watch some mystery crop (are those soy beans or is that asparagus?) blowing in the wind is not just therapeutic, it's antivenom.

So it's been confusing to me, my return. I've hated almost every moment since I re-arrived. That is too strong a word, but the colloquial version fairly approximates my response. I pinned my general demeanor on a few different very reasonable and obvious causes and, like every other trip that tuns 'meh', I just keep going because experience has taught me it will get better.

Suffering is an inevitable consequence of being alive. I accept that. And I'll take the pensive, Saturnine neurological ink that stains my thoughts over an effusive, bubbling elixir of glee. Because, at the heart of anything exquisite is something that's usually anything but. Onward....

Might be time to hole up on the wild Irish coast and write the book.

Wales was a surprise. Didn't really know what to expect. I did a little wandering, but was on a schedule (more on that in a bit), so I didn't have much time to peruse the landscape like I normally would.

As with most of Europe, you don't need any sort of guidebook to find interesting things. .... is just everywhere:



This was an old Ironworks foundry. Happened to be right across from a mobile home park.







I knew Stonehenge was nearby, mapped it out and realized it was pretty much on the way.



The above pic was actually on a Tank Crossing road. Very strange it was to see Tank signs in such a pastoral location of the globe. Would have actually liked to see one.

Then I got to Stonehenge.



Is nothing sacred? They ....... put Stonehenge into a building so they could charge by the head to herd tourists through it? I wasn't going to ....... pay to ....... see something that really belongs to the world. Then I looked around....and thought....no, this isn't right. I looked on Google maps and I was standing right on top of it. But still, something was amiss....

I cruised back back out onto the road and circled the 'block' and aha--about a half mile away there it was:





Honestly, it was quite boring. But then again, they're just rocks so I'm not sure why I expected much.



I enjoyed watching the sheep pounce around, though.

The last 2 pics I want to wander into! Thanks

Dennis how long are you in the UK for? If you head towards Norfolk let me know.

topolino said:

Dennis how long are you in the UK for? If you head towards Norfolk let me know.

Click to expand...

Not in the UK any more, mate! On a fast track to Norway....





Spent the night around Stonehenge. Had to make it to London the following day. I don't often have plans, but a super cool dude from Ace Cafe in Germany set me up with the folks at Ace in London. Not only was I to get a tour, they were also going to allow me to store my bike inside their vault.



Also happened to be Italian Car day....



Spent a few hours shooting the .... with Mark Wilsmore, the managing director for Ace. Some cool f'in history behind the cafe. And Mark's straight out of the era.



Dude on the left there is Simon. Another cool dude (from this era). Didn't get a pic with him 'cause I'm an idiot.

Hans-Peter, the Ace dude from Germany, also set me up with MCN. They were having a moto-festival about an hour and a half north of London. So what the ........everything just seemed to work out (all because of HP).



Got some petrol and shot up. Ticket was waiting for me at some secret entrance in the back--figured it'd be a .... show when I arrived, like how things work in the US, but I went straight in with no issues. Even got a pukka parking spot next to this slick Royal Enfield.



Saw my first new R1. A little TRON like for my tastes, but I do like.



Then it was into the expo, where they had the latest Harley Davidson technology out on display:







And tons more bikes to appreciate:





(Including this bike that kind of propelled Ace and motorcycling into the rebel spotlight)



This, though....



I'm no bike thief, but man....now I know what goes through their head when they wander through parking lots.

Oh yes....so I met up with Steve Hunt of MCN to do an interview and bumped into this man.



He questioned my choice of bikes for touring. Would have loved to throw him the keys, but he had some prior commitments.

Met up with Chris Scott (Sahara expert and overall modest badass) and got to spend some time with Nick Sanders. Interesting conversations. Nick's mastered the art of making a career out of his motorcycle adventures. Yamaha loves Nick and takes good care of him. I won't tell you what figure he threw out as his sponsorship income, but I was a bit shocked. We're not talking MotoGP or WSBK $$$, but damn! Nice to know it's possible to make a very good living on two wheels. Chris rides whatever the .... he wants.

I'll hit up MCN for photos of me and Nick...overall a very interesting day.

#jealous

Not at all jealous, no NOT AT ALL!!!!!

Local Ducati club had a booth, too:











Liked to see the mud all over that Multi, though I wouldn't want to try and manage it sliding around with those street tires!

Back to London!

So this is my second time through London. First time all I saw was rain and lorries on the motorway. This time I was actually in London proper, but have to admit I tended to just want to stay boxed up in my hotel room staring out at my ridiculously breathtaking view:


But I had y'all to keep in mind, so I headed over to Ace, picked up my bike and headed out.

I might regret it after the trip is over, but I just don't do much planning, if any at all. It allows me to discover the real side of the places I'm visiting and I think I'm able to provide a more accurate perspective on what places are like in their unfiltered form.

To those who've never been, this is what London looks like:


It's what London looked like to the eye in my brain, an image that's been displaced by direct contact with the city, replaced by a taxonomy of images such as these ones:




Snarled in traffic wherever I went I was. It wasn't a feeling of claustrophobia that I experienced, but something similar. I just wanted out. I chose the wrong time of day to visit (during sunlight hours) and thought I'd come back later that eve. I wasn't having any fun and other than more pictures of my front wheel in traffic, it was clear I wasn't going to get any good pictures of my bike in front of anything other than parked cars.

Though I know there are many fascinating and glorious London neighborhoods, I developed an affinity to mine. I was on the outskirts in Wembly in what was clearly a working-class Muslim neighborhood. And I loved it.



















Made me long for a skateboard and a can of Skoal.

By the time I'd gotten back, however, I felt miserable. A fellow inmate (Ghost Rider LV) had offered to buy me a steak at his favorite restaurant in London. Unfortunately my immune system got into an argument with my appetite and my immune system won. In my hotel I stayed for the night.

Ehhh...not that I'm a doctor but how does beans and smash help the immune system? Lol

We need you healthy so we can continue to live your journey! Hope to see you well and back on your journey. As always thanks for sharing it with us.