Objective number one on any motorbike trip is to stay vertical and off the road, in other words in one piece. So, touch wood, this objective was achieved for Granny, Panto and myself. Although Granny had one minor whoops at virtually no speed whatsoever, akin to falling off a stationary bike, in a hairpin bend when the road became too steep and narrow for him to compete with an Italian wannabe F1 driver into the corner. So he did the only sensible thing and gave way, only to find no road underneath him when he tried to put his foot down. This situation always results in one winner – great granny gravity – who has outlasted all of us and will continue to do so.

After a perfect weather day on Saturday for our ride across the eastern side of France, I awoke in a Holiday Inn in Reims, and not one to visit again in a hurry, to find fog outside all the way onto the ground. It was a small miracle that I could even see outside, given the size of the windows in my room. Even by French city standards these rooms were tiny. Someone received a PhD for getting a King bed into this room. Panto was even originally given a room without a window. One, which he in uncharacteristic English fashion, refused to accept. So in even more typical French fashion they moved him to one with only one tiny window!

Most of the guys had contracted severe case of “get home itis.” This is a disease that affects all of us towards the end of a grueling trip. They were therefore going to ride up the highway as fast as possible to Calais and catch an earlier than the scheduled afternoon train or ferry back to the UK. Granny and I decided however that it would be a long time before we had the opportunity to ride together in France again and we should at least attempt he more scenic route across the western half of France. We decided that we would ride for about an hour in fog as a maximum and if it persisted we would gap it to a highway.

Just as we were about to call it a day, the fog cleared and there, in front of our eyes, in broad daylight, was the American war cemetery at Oise-Aisne. Final resting place to 6,012 men including 7 sets of brothers who died in the Somme area in WW I, it is, like all the American and British war cemeteries, immaculately maintained. A poignant reminder of all the young men lost in their prime in a fruitless and stupid war. One fought in trenches with days going by in which only yards were gained and lost.

This part of France was the scene of some of the bitterest battles in both wars. It is also a testament to the great sacrifices made by Americans in two wars, which were, certainly as far as Europe is concerned, not their own wars. These were wars in which they gave their lives for a greater cause, freedom from tyranny and freedom for future generations of Europeans. This is why I get so cross when modern day Europeans are so critical of Americans as people. These are debts that can never be repaid.

Interestingly enough the American gentleman, who runs the cemetery, was immaculately dressed in a collar and tie at 09h00 on a Sunday morning, proud and dedicated. The money and budget for the US Battle Monuments Committee is one item that never gets held up in the current internecine battles in Congress and the Senate. They have 24 burial grounds around the world with about 125,000 soldiers buried in these places, young men having left the US never to return. At Oise there is one British sailor buried and the poet Joyce Kilner.

We then ride back into the fog, stop for coffee and decide that we will stop for lunch at Roye for a good French meal, rather than eat at the Eurotunnel terminal. A great decision as we find a fantastic small restaurant and I pig out on Fois Gras and Flambéed Steak Au Poivre avec Pomme Frittes.

From there we take the easy route and highway it to Calais and the Tunnel check in. Not a bad choice as it is bedlam. Every Brit in France and Europe is on the way home. I have never seen it this busy, but it all works well. Very well. We are booked on the 16h36 train and hope to get one about 30 mins earlier. No such luck. In fact the guys who had ridden directly earlier and had arrived at 12h00 could only get a 15h36 train. So we sat in the sun and caught our train on time, hooking up with a number of other bikers, most of whom had been onto the continent only for the weekend. The proximity to Europe and the tunnel makes weekends in France an easy possibility.

Our tour leader, Paul the Policeman, was waiting to escort Granny back to Guildford to drop off his bike. JayneN and I set sail for Cambridge. At 19h45, following another long and tiring day, we turned into our drive. Smelly clothes were soon in the washing machine and everything unpacked with the flat being made shipshape for DB’s imminent arrival this morning.

And this morning my lady had a full wash and polish from her man, making her look like new. Loving strokes for a sexy and reliable mount. Every trip has a few take away points from it, for me these are the highlights.

1. In nine days of riding, over 2700 miles or 4400 km I never saw one accident or even minor fender bender.
2. Over the same period I also never saw any litter or rubbish anywhere on the roads.
3. The level of driving and courtesy was outstanding despite the madness in Italy.
4. Two of our group dropped their bikes, all of their own accord. These were my two riding mates!
5. Switzerland and Germany really get it. Fantastic roads and everything works all of the time.
6. France also gets it. Great roads everywhere, fantastic food and wines. The best bread ever. Pity about my new eating plan. However overall the service levels and attitudes let them down. It definitely is not somewhere that it works all of the time. You can also see that it is a country in trouble. The small towns are dead. Devoid of life.
7. Italy is completely different. Even in Northern Italy, immediately you cross the border (unmarked and un policed) from Switzerland, you know that you are in a different and non Germanic country. It is not the signs as these are in German, it is rather an imperceptible difference in the appearance of the roads that go from great to merely good– and the coffee – which goes from merely good to great.
8. The alpine passes are supreme works of engineering. The road surfaces were great throughout, however once back in the UK the ride is rough and poor by comparison.
9. Europe is full. A huge population in a relatively small area. France still has vast spaces but by and large it is primarily an agricultural society. The farming appears to be highly organised and very professional.
10. South Africa’s Huguenot roots are evident everywhere. Names like Coligny, Arras, De Villiers, Mentz
11. Before the trip I had been advised to take my GS. This is the same as Spot in SA and Bonnie in the US. A bit lighter than JayneN and maybe a bit more nimble. However JayneN was awesome throughout the trip and particularly quick on the longer legs. At no point did I feel that she was out of her element. I loved riding her.
12. Granny and I rode well as a team. The decision to install Bluetooth intercoms so that we could converse throughout, something I learnt from my Norway trip with DB, was a winner. We were able to discuss loads of interesting things as we went along and when Mr. Garmin acted up, we could sort it out on the fly without stopping.
13. It is absolutely worth a trip to Alsace, above all else and to Obernai in particular. Le Parc Hotel had the best breakfast of the trip followed by the Chesa Rosa in Celerina in Switzerland.
14. The most enjoyable meal was at my old hunting grounds, Padrino in Davos. Well done Antonio.
15. The best lunch at Le Gourmet de Roye on the last day in France.

So where next? I am not sure but it has to be a trip with DB again. I am keen for the North East of the USA next year. The big one I have in the back of my mind, is all the way around Australia. But that is a six month trip.

Until my next adventure, Good Night, Good Bye and very Good Luck.