Back from France...

....after driving the last 975kms from Dom's flat north of Teruel. When we
left France yesterday the temp was about 4C - nice to see the gauge go up to
27C on the way down through Spain today.

Good to see a few familiar faces again. Neither Champ, Ace nor Jude seem to
have aged one day in the last ten or so years. And neither Champ nor Ace
have quietened down one decibel. Owen made us all smile more than once (neat
trick with me, as some will know). I didn't recognise Jen (BRC) and neither
did she recognise me. Mind, she is a bit fatter than when we last met. Put
faces to names FrJack, Krusty and James. Met Dom for the second time and he
didn't recognise me (and in the dago froup has described me as a Roman
Patrician from "I Claudius" - something to do with the grey hair and beard I
believe). Also met Wavy Dave, who I'm convinced I've met before, although he
says he didn't know me from Adam.

So, en fin - it turns out that I'm not really me, rather an imposter.

Had a lovely time and dead pleased to have re-met all those folks that I
dreamt having met before.

Venue excellent. I believe the dagos are currently planning to descend on
Café 46 en masse next year.

Knackered now. Quick shower and time to sink a few beers before crashing
out.

Hasta la vista, babies.

 

It went up to a heady 10C in Rocamadour yesterday and I gave the
obligatory 'Wow!' as the town came into view, much to Jen's delight.

 

Krusty wibbled forthrightly:

Rocamadour is impressive, isn't it?

 

Black virgin in a sanctuary on top of a rocky mountain?

Imitation!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Maria_de_Montserrat

For Switters: This place is in a diversion of the first sector that we did
out of the A2 highway.

 

Was good to meet you again, mush-brain here probably wouldn't recognise
her own mother atm tho! And as for a 'bit fatter'...sideways on I'm
huge!! But then that is what being imminently due to give birth to
twins will do - nowt to do with the copious amounts of cheese here!

Great to see you all, yes we'll do it again next year (the meet not the
pregnancy!) and I'll make sure to order the better weather in advance
as it's now lovely here.

 

[snip]

Pics anybody?

 

Yes, please.

Of scantily clad ladies.

 

Domenec escribió:

Given nobody else has posted anything yet, I assume they're still to
return...

 

<waits>

 

Indeed. I'll be home in about 3 hours in theory but won't be doing
pics tonight. Then there's the video... I'm waiting to see how much
Owen offers me not to stick it on YouTube.

 

Krusty escribió:

There's a video? I thought there was just a load of pictures of people
slicing ham?

 

Sounds just like every other event with Domenec.

 

Same plus one pound of jamón.

 

Heh, no, Mora's Jamonerfest takes place only once a year.

 

I just imagined you taking legs of pig to all your events.

 

Was it with or without the clothes? If you put it on Youtube I will
hunt you down and kill you for the worthless dog you are...

*checks bank account*

How about £1000, assuming Im able to sell both my parents...?

Or Ill trade you a vid of Champ and Ace playing a Pink Floydd
number...?

 

Isn't that on youtube already?

 

I arrive in France on Thursday evening having missed the morning
crossing due to my passport still being in Reading. Idiot...
I checked into a hotel at Falaise. unpacked, headed down to the bar
and got into conversation with a bunch of (mostly Beglian) aristocrats
and minor royals, in town to take part in some parade thing at the
Abbey. When we had finished all the calvados in the bar we moved onto
Cognac... There was also champagne. At some point, (1 or 2 AM) I
thanked them for the entertainment and went up to bed, tho not before
I was presented with a lapel-badge, COMMANDERIE SAINT MICHEL DE
BRUXELLES, got a bloke on it with wings, a cross and a shield, gold
and red enamel. "Wear this if you are ever in Bruxelles, it will help
you..." said The Comte de Thingy cryptically. I returned his cryptic
remark with a cryptic look and slept cryptically well that night...
I Packed up next morning, went over to Count Thingy and Duke Whotnot
eating thier breakfast and wished them luck with thier parade thing.
Didnt get to do any cryptic handshakes...

I rode a circuitous route to Saintes near Cognac, visited Mr Bastard
and bought a case of his finest cognac and a ditto of Pinneau Des
Charentes. I miss-routed a couple of times that day and ended up at
Rocamador around 10PM, having covered 1000 kilometers, the last chunk
of it pitch-black switch-backs. The Air-Hawk saddle was worth every
penny sat up with Mr & Mrs Ace, Mr & Mrs Carmicheal, James and Jen
(who clearly has a pie problem but reckons to be able to lose most of
her extra weight in a week or two...).

Saturday AM had breakie, went walnut hunting with James, recieved a
master-class in bread-making. I went out and pootled, leaving as Champ
and Krusty arrived. visited cave nearby, brillic...
I wont bother doing the saturday evening thing, others have covered
it, suffice to say it was a very enjoyable evening... James is a
superb cook...

Sunday, had some breakie and went out on bike retracing the
Friday-night switch-backs, fantastic route and great views, rode down
to cahors
Visited Rocamador on the way back. Excellent stuff.

Monday morning, following the Champ/James reccomended route to
Clermont-Ferrand via Aurillac. lovely roads. At aurillac I decided to
detour via the Vallees Des Jourdains, this was not such at good
idea...
I came to a sign stating that the roads across the Col was closed and
asked a couple of locals about this. They assured me that it just
meant that the hotels and bars along the route were closed, end of the
tourist season kind of thing... I should have listened to the banjos
in the background...
The road climbs up through bend after bend, steep sometimes sheer
drops, this isnt one of those roads where you check out the scenery.
After about 10 klicks Im up in the clouds, the temperature is sinking
and snow is now on either side of the road... bno room to turn around,
so I think, well its got to start going down soon, right? Wrong.
Evenyually Im faced with snow and ice across the road and the bike
makes the decision for me...
Luckily I was thrown away from the bike. If it had landed on top of me
Idve been screwed. OK, so unload the bike, carry bags down to dry
non-slippery road ( 400M-ish). Go back pick up box of cognac and box
of wine (no breakages) ditto. Go and get panniers, ditto.
I then had to drag bike back onto road propper and point in right
dirrection. I then hads to lift the damn thing up. Cant, roads too
slippery. Right break ice/snow and make a dryish area for me feet to
not slip. Ditto for tyres. It is now nearly around 40 mins since the
off, the temperature is going down, its around 3pm and no-one knows Im
here. Phone wont work and sleeping on the mountain isnt really an
option... I cant get the bike up and have now resolved to taking
day-pack, bag of clothes and sleeping bag and tracking back down the
mountain. I had a little "anger-management moment", gave the bike one
last heave the it came up...
Very gingerly I walked the bike down to the baggage, loaded up, and
took a very careful ride back down.
It was one of those stupid and foolish moments that could have had a
senseless tragic end. What a dickhead!
I spent most of the rest of the day feeling angry with myself, which
was a waste of good roads and possibly contributed to another off
leaving the autoroute for my night stop at Montlucon. Id pulled onto
the slip-road and the back slid out too quick for me to be able to do
anything other than roll across the tarmac. Amazingly I got up without
a scratch.

Next day I reached Orleans after a great ride. Met a wonderful
Frenchgirl who worked in the fashion industry and seemed to know the
owners of a number of tres chic bars that let us in at all sorts of
funny hours. We got back to her place around 4 in the morning, opened
a bottle of champagne, like you do... around 5 I had to sleep. Work up
around 11 snuggled up to her and thinking... "I really REALLY like
France..."
Stayed an extra day in Orleans. The owners of my friends favourite bar
gave me a bottle of wine, and the friend gave me her email/moby/etc
details. Maybe middle-aged crinkly road-mucked manky-leather wearing
bikers are the new fashion accesorie?
As I packed the bike up a few hundred demonstrators came past. It was
kinda wierd, a happy near-riot flowing around me...

Last night I stopped in Lisieux, Having narrowly missed running dry.
Rode into a Garage with the first splutters of an empty tank! I pulled
into a Garage near Evreux just as thier fuel ran out. There were some
unhappy bunnies... There were also 3 bus-loads of CRS riot police
having a toillet stop, all big tallguys, tooled-up with attitude. So I
wlked over, gave them a big cheerful bonjour and asked for directions,
how the demonstrations were going, the usual stuff...

I bought some vintage bordeaux in Lisieux, had friuts de Mere, and
slept well. Made the ferry on time (just) getting home around 4:30PM.

Jen and James were excellent hosts and Id reccomend the trip to anyone
thinking of the French EOSM, can we just call it the FREOSM?
I met some wonderful people at various points along the trip.
I found myself in some totally surreal situations.
I experienced just about every possible emotion at some point.
Good road-trip. Made me feel really alive and positive.

Tomorrow Im taking Marina for a last ride on the bike. The familly is
gathering near Llandridod to scatter her ashes. This trip has helped
me feel more ready to do this. Its part of the moving on thing.
Thankyou to everyone who took part, you have given me some really good
therapy...

 

Owen escribió:

Really? I still haven't seen one picture.

 

More than one.