A holiday in parenthesis. Wet ones. (By the way, this is long, so either **** off now or don't whinge) I left our sceptred isle on the 31st July on the first day of me hols heading towards Newcastle. It rained. All the way. I met a couple of bikers near Scotch Corner while I had a brew and they weren't as "well" equipped for wet weather as I was, so they were pissed wet through and they'd only been riding an hour, with another two to go. Overnight ferry to Imjuiden in Holland and I wake in anticipation of the wonderful weather beckoning. No fucking chance. The usual "cats and dogs" doesn't begin to describe the deluge, and I don't have a word for the amount of thunder and lightning which abounded. "Not to worry", thinks me, "I'm on hols", so I head up country to the next "waypoint", but it's not so easy when you can't quite see the roadsigns (what few there are) because the visibility is shite. It only continued all day mind, so no big problem. My 4 year old Spada cheapo jacket did me proud though and never let a drop of water in, so although I weighed twice as much by the time I crossed into Germany, I was still dry. Cheap rubber overtrews kept the crown jewels dry too, surprisingly. I reached Bremen and thought a bit of time off the bike was called for, so I got myself into a tidy little motel and got me head down. Tidy, apart from the tart who served me dinner. She was the spitting image of Danny DeVito when he played The Penguin in one of the Batman movies. Scary, especially at one in the morning when she knocked on me bedroom door!. Up at the crack of arse for an early start and a quick escape. "What's that I see falling from the sky" thinks I again, "Surely not rain"? Well of course it was rain. Fucking tons of it, or rather, tonnes of it, after all, I'm on my hols and I'm in Germany. Not to worry though, it can't last all day like it did yesterday. Well I soon learned how wrong a person can be. Well actually, it took me all day to learn how wrong a person can be, but you get my drift. Fortunately, I didn't drift off the road during the flood. I changed my plans mid afternoon and instead of heading up the road into Denmark, I decided to take a ferry from Puttgarten to cut out a little soaking and as I pulled into the ferry terminal, it fucking stopped raining and the sun broke through. Then there was a mad scrabble from all the passengers on the ferry to grab a fucking hotdog/hamburger from the on board vendors. Why? I've no bastard idea, coz I'm sure you can buy either in Germany AND in Denmark and at cheaper prices and the ferry only takes 45 minutes, but still, that's what they did. Off the ferry in Denmark and I've got an hours riding to reach the tunnel&bridge from Denmark to Sweden. A full hour where it didn't rain. Sunshine as I entered the tunnel and pissing rain when I exited onto the ramp leading to the bridge. Visibility back to **** all. I decided to get as far up Sweden as I could, so I got me chin on the tank bag and headed north as quickly as possible. I made about 200 miles after the ferry before I began looking for digs. Again, not easy when you can't see your hand in front of your face. Actually, it might have been a bit easier if I DIDN'T have my hand in front of my face, but by that time, I was past caring. Tank filled again, digs found and head down for the rest of the night. Swedish porno TV is shite btw. Woke up to sunshine blazing through the hotel window, but it'd fucked off by the time I'd got dressed and thrown some food down me neck, so it was back on with the rubber leggings and back on the bike for more of the same. I didn't think there was so much rain up there, just waiting to drop on me, but take it from me, there fucking was. It rained to within 100 miles of my destination (or base camp, from where I was going to ride some great Swedish roads) when it suddenly stopped. Probably because the wind was so fucking strong, the rain couldn't land. I was leaning a good 10 degrees but riding in a straight(ish) line, but eventually I reached base camp. 22 hours actual riding and 1744 kilometres with less than 2 hours in relatively dry conditions. I fitted Avon Azaro's (cheers Loz) before I left and they never gave me a second to regret the choice. They stuck to the road in THE worst weather it's ever been my pleasure to ride in for anything more than an hour or two. Su-fucking-perb. When I woke up in Sweden the next day, the sun was cracking the flags and it did it EVERY day I was there. Temps hit 50 bastard degrees C on my pal's veranda (I even took a pic of the thermometer on my phone) and the road temps were even higher. Those Azaro's never complained at these extremes either. Some fantabulous riding was done at some rather un-me like speeds and I regularly saw 220kph (not fast by some standards, but I'm an owd fart, remember) and all while breaking my recent resolution not to ride in T-shirt and pants. Bikes fucking rock. Of course, it all had to end and I had to come back, so of course, it had to rain. A 6 hour ride through the night so I could get the ferry at 8 in the morning, and it was thunderstorms and rain all the way. Rain stopped dead as I reached Goteborg though, so the day on the ferry was quite relaxing and pleasant. I even managed to ride the trip from Newcastle to Notlob without a jacket or gloves and stayed warm and dry, so it wasn't all doom and gloom. 4000 miles I did and loved 3000 of 'em I don't think it's stopped raining here since though and the bike REALLY needs a wash and brush up.. -- Beav VN 750 Zed 1000 OMF# 19
What? I thought everyone just looked out of the window at any of the nubile, blonde young ladies passing by that seem so abundant. Perhaps I need to see more of Sweden, as my opinion seems to be skewed somewhat. <thinks> Or maybe not.
It was pissing down, remember. I couldn't see through the window. Two weeks of no traffic, superb roads, brilliant weather and more than a few pieces of crumpet to enjoy and you want to seee more of Sweden. I'm shocked -- Beav VN 750 Zed 1000 OMF# 19
