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I had went to bed early, and did set an alarm clock for the first time in weeks, to 06:30. That gave me time to enjoy waking up lazily in bed, procrastinating getting up while enjoying my own company. Breakfast was the only poor one I had this trip, that went nicely with the theme of this visit to Fes, croissants were stale and worthy of one single bite, orange juice hadn't seen an orange since an industrial factory somewhere once processed them, and coffee tasted like Nescafe. In Morocco there's no excuse for non fresh orange juice and shit coffee, but it made sense as that hotel didn't even offer a breakfast free stay, they had to push people to eat it I was ready to go a little after 7, but as I looked around the streets seemed really wet and it was going to be dark for a while after leaving, so grudgingly put my plastic rain pants and jacket on. By 07:25, I was ready to go: Put navigation on heading to Ain Dorij, and rode off, google maps took me out via tiny streets that seemed more complicated than needed, but the low traffic showed me a less seen side of Fes. It was interesting. Getting out of town and rain starts to steadily fall, at 08:15 I had had my only really challenging moment on the road and stopped to enjoy the sunrise a little, on a particularly muddy and poorly surfaced bit of road tilting to the right, I was forced to brake a little and basically slid off the road, I spotted the gravel bit outside the tarmac and simply pointed to that and rode it for a while. I am most impressed at the Mitas E07 + Dakar, they're sound tires even if the manufacturer warns that they have poor performance in rain and cold. 08:15: Rain properly starts to fall shortly later, my phone is now safe in my jacket and I stop for a moment's rest after spotting shelter. Someone takes my picture as for whatever reason I was enjoying it quite a bit. The above was at 08:55, I then put the phone back in my jacket pocket safe from the weather, and rode all the way to Tangier with no need for it. Navigation was easy and although I was riding on less than main roads I knew I had to go pass Ouezzane and then Chefchaouen, it proved easy. Rain didn't stop for the rest of the morning, averaging from hard to very hard and very windy at the same time. I got stopped at a checkpoint and after the initial small talk the officer told me I had been spotted at 95kmh on a 60, I got off the bike with the helmet open, got my right glove off and introduced myself, told him I would be more respectful from now on, but that I was intended on catching the Ferry and wanted to not miss it, all while putting my biggest possible good guy big smile attitude. Then he asked me for my papers while looking at the back of the bike, and asked where I was from as clearly I didn't have a French or German plate, upon the answer of "Portugaise" he enthusiastically shook my hand and after becoming friends sent me on my way with a big smile and a "ride safe" farewell. Portugal is a good nationality to be in Morocco, our national football team shares the same colours, and we both like beating the French and Spaniards. From there it was very smooth to Tangier, if plenty of wet. The last miles before Tangier were dry and windy, which allowed the overalls to dry on the outside. I had money with me so stopped to top up the bike at a Shell station, rode into Tangier feeling like a road worn adventurer, and quickly got lost in lunchtime traffic Stopped at a cafe with outside tables on a common street and ordered a sandwich. While it took forever to arrive I took the overalls off and made myself comfortable. Turns out my overall pants aren't really waterproof anymore, my jeans were wet on the outside all over the waterproof stitches, and my chest and upper back was fully wet too. Good stuff! The bike looked proper and had just proven to be a trusty friend, a true work beast or a war horse: It was good to ride to the port without the blasted rain suit, hang around for a little getting in line for the bike to be x-rayed, it all went easily as if hipotetically crossing between any European countries. The crossing was a little choppy, the storms seemed to have angered the Mediterranean and the boat rocked heavily the whole trip. At first it was funny like so, look at the water level in the horizon: But after a while people started to get a little tired of it, I felt like having a piss but sat firmly in my seat at the risk of falling over when walking or throwing up if standing, two guys started praying to Allah, and a few people had hands on their faces like trying to prevent eyes from popping out. We made it ok though, lack of paperwork on the boat was a bonus, I don't envy people crossing the other way and having to write stuff down, I would succumb to that for sure! Got out of the boat in my due time, and pushed the bike along with all the line of cars that got off the boat before I did. Tarifa looked stormy, so I put the rain stuff back on, the time at Tangier and on the boat had dried my clothes so I felt comfy and fresh. It was past 16:00 by the time I rode out of Tarifa, I had looked at hotels around there and also the weather forecasts, it was rain for the next few days, so feeling fresh after the ride from Fes I decided to go home for the night, Waze sent me via Badajoz which wouldn't have been my preferred route, but as it was raining through Sevilla (or was it Huelva already? I don't know...) I was lazy and followed it's guidance. Storms were littered all around, with orange warnings for heavy rain so I figured there must be a reason for the longer route. Right before entering Portugal I stopped for a snack after riding all the way from Tarifa in heavy rains. 20km into the trip a water barrier descended upon me with such violence that water pushed into my overalls with ease through my neck and wrists. This stop made sense, and the tiny jamon con queso bocadillho provided me with a little comfort from the belly outwards. The beer is 0% alcohol, too. The snack and fuel stop was at 20:09, I made it home at 22:54 and the bike looked pretty much like I did except prettier, just as wet. That was an epic day riding, around 300/320km in Morocco's backroads and around 700km in Europe with port crossing and a choppy ride in the middle of it, I felt like it was a proper day to end a proper trip, and was comforted by a hot shower in my own house, that I grew to love from Maria. Heated up some of Sofia's shepherds pie and opened a bottle of red wine. I was feeling energized when arriving home, despite the long day, but as soon as food and wine hit my stomach and I settled from the excitement of riding through rain storms, I started feeling tired. That night I fell asleep moments after laying down, and the rain lashed the outside of my bedroom walls through the night. On this trip I travelled with Maria and Sofia, and have to thank you all for providing an audience, the taking pictures everywhere provided with a distraction to some of the very intense feelings I had. I got through it and the extreme darkness I feared didn't appear, only sorrow and the memory of loving times did. I hardly ever felt alone on this trip. It was a nice one, there will be more. Thank you for all the nice comments.

No not that 180 but it's been 180 days since i last rode a bike so today I needed to put that right. @Slowlycatchymonkey said the weather was going to be fab but it bloody wasn't when I left home at 11.30 am , i couldn't see in front of my face and it didn't get any better for a while.............. Anyway, perhaps her forecast was right because as I got nearer to her manor the sun started to poke it's head through the fog. By time I got to Chew Valley lake it was lovely............ and the various birdies were enjoying it as well................... I rode up over the Mendip hills and down through the old rode into Wells where it was starting to get positively balmy. From there I rode on to Shepton Mallet where I stopped to have a gander at the old prison, I have actually been in there about 38 years ago but not as a guest of her majesty you understand............ From there I took the Frome road but stpped at Doulting to have a sandwich and a coffee from my flask . While I was there I got a phone call from my mate Big Tone and we agreed to meet up for a coffee at Farrington Farm. I stopped to say hello to this lot on the way in ............. and then we sat in a strange sort of hobbit house for our coffee, Tone is one big hobbit at 6' 4'' tall From there it was a short 18 miles back home . It was great to be out riding again and I may get to repeat the exercise again on Saturday

As we are all coming from different directions we met at a Greene King pub near Portsmouth Port on Sunday evening. There was a lot excitement, roast dinners and chat. We board seamlessly at 23.00, exchange cabin numbers in case of emergency (no mobile reception) and get straight into our cabins, we dock at 6.30am french time (5.30am uk time), my alarm goes off at 4.30am and I instantly think - who’s stupid idea was this South West Caen (Ouistreham) Port obviously not in 7hrs 33 mins as it was an overnight ferry. Off the ferry and five mins to a cafe right next to the port for a quick croissant, a chat about the route, riding in France and to allow the ferry traffic to dissipate. Glad I had my ipad on hand to show the priorite a driote signage as only one person was familiar with it and they appeared often on our ‘no-motorway’ cross country route! It’s grey, rainy, not the most fun for riding and no matter how hard I try the pace is a bit too slow to be fun but it takes folk time to warm up to riding on the other side of the road when you’re not familiar with it and I’m kind of glad I’m not dealing with any kamikaze riders. Quirky little house over three floors, surrounded by grape vines, as you’d expect in the Loire Valley. We arrive in Sancerre far too late to tour the vineyard which is a bit of a shame but after so little sleep on the ferry everyone is exhausted. The day has stretched out far beyond all comprehension and with a supermarket stop to pick up some steaks we only make it to the house after 7pm. Another friend joins us at this point ready to party and finds us all in zombie mode I may have avoided taking everyone into Paris but the cross country route was not without a price to pay!

Some fine wine, hot food, good sleep and by the next morning most were raring to ride over the border to the Swiss part of Lake Genèva for a bit of lunch and snap a pic with Mont Blanc in the background. Of course it’s end of the ski season so a lot is shut and lunch turned into a vending machine affair Whilst enjoying the lake our ‘on the spectrum’ friend (there’s always at least one in every group isn’t there ) whacked out three different water colour paintings of my mates house in under two hours! It was gorgeous out there Still a bit chilly from the mountain air we opted for quick showers, warm jackets and Kir Royals to warm the cockles. This was followed by far too much wine, we were still laughing about what we couldn’t remember the next morning

I left about 10.45 this morning to meet up with @Skippy in the Natural Park Area across the border in Almeria. First proper run the bike has had for a while, and you'll be disappointed to know there's no abandoned villages this time. Apparently the last village I visited with Skippy traumatised him because he thought he was back in the Blitz! Also traumatised his bike and his jacket cos they both fucked up as well. So here we go......all upbeat, touristy type of shit. These are taken on the way to the Natural Park......a BOTM prospect there I'd say! Roads were jammed as usual! Conditions were amazing......about 20c there and going up to 26 later on. I had to find some grim, devastated shit just to cheer me up though...... And then it was on towards the Natural Park.......there's always bikes here! I parked up by Skippy's Tracer....... Went into the picnic area.......Skippy was already there! Along with 3 groups of Spanish bikers! Didn't take them long for all of them to fuck off when I got there though! So we were there for a while and then it was back to the bikes! The plan was to take him into the Granada province and show him some of the area up around the reservoir at San Clemente. Cos this type of Spain is the polar opposite of where he lives! Eventually we got to the reservoir.......he was surprised to see snow on the peaks! That doesn't happen on the coast! Less and less water all the time! Skippy then followed me back to the town and set his GPS to take the "Adventure" route home! He hasn't logged back in yet.......so maybe he did end up in an Abandoned Village after all?

Had another good trip out with the Welsh Wizard, no devastation, or destruction, no broken bike, brand-new jacket is still fine, I think he was quite disappointed that nothing broke or fell off. Got back to the Brit enclave about 4.15pm……….had some daft Spanish twat pull across me but I live to ride another day.

This feels more like a miracle than a result. I have new hearing aids and I can fucking hear!!!!! Mr Slowly started talking to me as we went through some doors and usually if someone’s behind me I can’t hear what they’re saying, maybe a muffled noise but no actual words. I hadn’t realised I heard all of it when I replied and he said you just heard what I said even though you couldn’t see my face. He then suggested I connected them to my phone and put some music on. I love music. Going deaf and not being able to hear music has been most painful so I was reluctant to spoil such a win by highlighting a loss. Curiosity got the better of me and I played a tune with a prolonged percussion section that contains cymbals, hi-hat cowbells etc all mixed in. I haven’t heard a cymbal for about 10 years but I could hear it all. Every instrument was distinct, the clarity is fantastic, I cried for so long my head started to hurt. I can’t believe it. I know it’s temporary and eventually I’ll get deafer but right now I feel so happy I could cry. Oh look at that I am

Saturdays ride was going to be just a reccy ride for me on my own to check out a few dirt tracks i hadn't ridden before just outside the Llandovery area, i advertised the ride on the TRF forum to see if one or two fancied a day out and before i new it there was seven of us so ended up having to plot a route i already new. Start time was an early one for me 08:30 and we were meeting the seventh member on route. Plan was a road ride to Sennybridge area which was about 30 miles or an hour away on the roads we were taking. Two of the lads that turned up were on two strokes i didn't fancy the road work on those i had explained before hand how much there was they said they were ok with it so after introductions and a few rules of the ride explained off we went. Headed up the Cynon valley to Penderyn and then Ystradfellte and onto the devils elbow to meet up with the seventh member of our group Here's a stock a photo of the devils elbow A couple of miles after this we were onto the first of the trails and the road work was soon forgotten This is a bit of a tough one plenty of fails here i was lucky enough to see it all Jason here having a breather very new to this stuff he went home early on the last ride with me but he was i'll LOL Steve concentrating hard But not happy with just riding the bike he throws it to the ground and decides to do some weight training as well Even the two stroke boys found it a challenge Steve gets going again for the whole of 5 yards and he's down but still smiling Andrew on the mighty DRZ400 And Paul bringing up the rear finding it much easier on his CRF250L than his CRF450L Stopped for fuel in Sennybridge as the KTM two stroke needed fuel every 40 to 50 miles, done a few easy lanes after but no photos on those . The next eventful lane i know as Lampkin lane named after Dougie Lampkin an ex world trials champion due to how difficult it is but we were going down it so no problem. At the bottom is a small river crossing with a very slippery base Steve finds out just how slippery it is and Unfortunately Steve breaks his leg in the fall Luckily there was a mechanic there with a set of Allan keys to fix it So after the laughter stopped and with Steve rebuilt we took on the exit from the lane Almost got run over trying to video fucking two stroke riders don't give a shit LOL Next up was a steep climb, last time i done it it was wet today was easy compared to then everyone made it ok which was disappointing LOL From here there were a few more lanes with no photos taken, then into Llandovery for the two strokes to fuel up and a sandwich for ourselves Heading out west of Llandovery and done a few lanes I've not done before and onto another little stream which i forgot to mention was a little deeper than it looked LOL Stopped for a breather here Jason thoroughly enjoying himself testing the water resistance of his new boots There was a few more uneventful lanes with no photos before we were on the route home Stopped here on the roman road waiting for the others to catch up Steve still full of energy, when they did catch up the lad on the KTM two stroke had binned it twice behind us luckily only had some sore ribs After the roman road a few of us decided to check out the famous motel hill by going down it isn't any better than i remember this was taken just after Andrew had picked his bike up just doesn't show how steep it is No more photos from here, stopped to fill the two strokes up again in Sennybridge before the road ride home. I think everyone enjoyed themselves they were all still smiling and alive when i left them so that's a good sign

Today I made the cakes ( yes, 2 different ones) more drunk, and being a vet I have the right tools to get the booze right in the middle!!

Was??? Still is!!! Turned 20 this year, I have had almost from new. We have been together for that long!! Best car in the World!!

Yer a Polish woman told me you're good for that.

As the second week of my journey starts I have had a chance to look back at the first week. We were in the backcountry fast and without cell reception for most of the week. I have just now had a few days with the internet to touch base with the world. We have already seen some amazing places but one of my favourites was a place called Marble Canyon. We camped beside Turquoise lake in the middle of this beautiful canyon. We stayed there for a few days and just enjoyed this magical place. If you look real close in about the middle of the photo you can see our little red tent....

I think I had planned 1500km for this trip and door to door was 1508km according to the trip meter on the bike. it also showed 24h50 minutes riding time ( a little less in reality as I don't always switc the engine off when stopping for a pic or slapping the sat nav or whatever but call that "saddle time" and it'd be about right) fuel consomption was around 5,8L per 100 km. I left home on wednesday morning under clear skies and temps of around 8 to 10 deg c. The first stage was south to Clermont Ferrand on roads that I have ridden many times before. Crossing the Loire, westbound at Pouilly sur Loire I rode south on the left bank of the Loire for a while further before stopping for a coffee break. Budget restrictions being what they are ( and I'm something of a cheapskate at the best of times...) coffee from a flask was the order of the day and I just stopped at a convenient spot at the roadsiide by the river. Tigger in full touring Mode: despite the sunshine, I still had thermal liners in jacket and trousers at this point. I picked up the A75 southbound shortly after this at Monmarrault and as the weather rapidly deteriorated I hunkered down and concentrated on "making progress", switching from the "scenic" gps app to "Coyote" which warns of any speed cameras or dangers on the road as well as basic navigation. I really didn't need any avigational aids as I simply had to run south untill junction 37. This was a boring, if reasonable short interlude just concentrating on the road ahead and despite the rain keeping the speed needle around 140km/h ( the French Autoroutes are limited to 130 under normal circumstances, but in rain are limited to 110 and 140 on the tigers clocks gives a real speed of around 135, hence the usefulness of advance warning of any speed cameras, mobile or otherwise. ( it's not an infallible system, but for 50€ a year it only has to avoid 1 10 km/h exess speed fine to be viable. ) Once off the Autoroute, the road eastwards from Marvejols to Balsieges, before joining the Gorges du Tarn proper was superbe. The weather was still cold and damp, with 10/10ths cloud cover but only actually raing in brief showers. These showers are much easier to deal with wearing waterproof riding gear rather than having to stop and clamber in and out of rain gear every half hour. then the start of the Gorges du Tarn proper. riding down the Gorges was stunning, I can honestly say that I have never seen anything like it, there's certainly nothing on this scale in the Uk. Having the road to myself, mostly due to the bad weather was a bonus cos I imagine it would be heaving with bikes and camping cars during the summer. The main problem was actually staying on the road which winds seemingly endlessly downwards hanging onto the edge of the mountainside, on a balcony to go around a buttress, through a tunnel from time to time, squeezing through a gap between the cliff face and an outcrop, never straight or level or of equal width for more then a dozen yards and all this on a wet surface whilst gawking open mouthed at the incredible scenery. Wow! just... Wow. Once it was over and I was nearly at the bottom I realised I had taken no pics, just too gobsmaked by it all to function normally. It was about 18:30 when I rode into Millau from the west. I had provisionally booked a bed in a local "Gite d'Etape" ( bit like a youth Hostel) which, using my sleeping bag and sorting myself out food wise, would only cost me 15€ ( remember what I said about being tight fisted?) It was raining steadily now and when I stopped at a supermarket to grab a salad and sandwich for my supper, I phoned ahead to tell him I was about 15 minutes away. I mentioned I was just getting some food and he said " you can't eat here." I new that they weren't doing food cas I was the only guest, but I had previously said that I would grab a sarnie on the way in. He now decided that he wasn't happy with me eating a sandwich in my room either! Bearing in mind it was now pissing down I told him he could fuck off and hung up. ooopsss... Google to the rescue ( much as I hate to admit it the smartphoe is a very useful tool in this sort of situation, it took me about 3 minutes to find the nearest hotel mercure / Ibis ( 800m away) and book a room for the night with free undercover secure parking for the bikeand breakfast included for 80€ ( tight fisted up to a point...) I already had food for the evening and the welcome and service at the hotel were excelent and I mad good use of the facilities which were far superior than I would have found in a gite d'etape. The view from the hotel room window It was too late to go and look at the viaduct / suspenders bridge and as I had planned a short easy run the next morning I decided to leave it till then.

Mine

Yes, in better times!

A couple of years ago. Not the finest photo but one of my favourites, cos I was so happy, dorky looking but happy, like top tier happy, felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz running through the flower fields in the sunshine except on a motorbike, dont think Ill ever beat that. Just me and one other guy and not another soul about.

From your emperor and TOTY for the second year in a row, a feat never before achieved. I already had overtures from countless fit bitches this morning as a result, now I am planning the celebrations.

After a bit of searching on Google Maps and Google Earth I found an old abandoned country house that I'd never visited. It wasn't too far away either, which was great because it was bloody cold. The building itself was part house and part cave.......so no telling how many rooms were actually built into the hillside. The main construction was in pretty good order, but all access points had been secured. Though I was able to get some shots through the broken windows. And after checking the house out I found another construction behind it.....and more caves! First off......a short vid! Now onto the house.......Bit of a rough track to get to it as well! There'll be some beak cleaning going on tomorrow for sure! As you can see, it's in pretty decent order! A few shots through broken windows! It's not the same when you can't get in......cos you don't get the buzz of walking into the unknown! Then it was round the side and onto the hill that it was built into! And you can see the building that was behind it...... ......so it was clamber down the bank to access it! Where you could see the cave built into the hillside! Once again, all secured! Then back onto the bike and away! As you can see, there's no van there! And no riding buddies to hold my hand either! It's as real as it gets! You Casuals could learn a lot from this you know!

Meanwhile in Canada ......it has been reported that overly cheerful bug-eyed humanoids are running amok along the beaches. DO NOT approach these beings as there is no telling as to what might happen.... HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND EVERYONE!

After all these years of blaming @XTreme

I’ve been hanging around one of Croatia’s national parks the wife is determined to wear my legs down to a knub

This is the story of two events that came together, in a happy, match on the first days of January 2023: I turned 50 and did my first Moto tour! The idea to combine the 2 started a couple of months ago, when my friend Barbara said she would love to come over from the UK for my birthday, I immediately thought it would be great to do a test run of my Motor tours and organise the very first one! She was up for being a guinea-pig and it was decided to start in Lisbon and end in Faro, to be even more special and try to find the better weather! As it happens, December was full of work and stress and by the time I picked her up from Lisbon Airport on a dark and gloomy evening of January, my head was in bits and I felt like I had been run over by a train!! 3 days before “launch” and I hadn’t organised a thing, not even dog seating so we could actually go away without the dogs! I motivated myself somehow and called the Bike rental company the day Barbara landed and secured a bike from this lovely guy that laughed at how short the short notice was! Hey-ho, someone with a good sense of humour is always a blessing!! He was amazing, bringing the bike to us and collecting it from us in Algarve, offering for us to use it more days free of charge if we wanted saying January is slow for his business, make the most of it, he said! The company is MOTORENTOUR - Motorcycle Rental & Tours and I highly recommend it. We will work together in my business endeavour @Turtle_Mototours, a great partner to have. So we had a bike, check, I then booked the Hotel, check, and after that got a dog sitter, with even shorter notice, to look after the pooches, everything checked!! NOTE: Thank you @trustedhousesitters for being the best thing ever when it comes to pet sitting while we go on holiday. And on the 7th of January, we were ready to go but not before I had to see a doggie with an inflamed eye on a last minute call... because I cannot say no and because I am a one woman band and have to work on all fronts. The weather had been great the days leading up to our trip, only somehow it turned spectacularly on a downward spiral and we set off under all sorts of warnings, of all colours and descriptions and we sure got it!! Fully kitted up in several layers of water proofs, we used up all my extensive gear resources between us, and being made of stern stuff, we faced the big storm, with its heavy winds and lashes of sideways rain, the rivers of water on the motorway and the sliding drains across it, Barbara on the rented Benelli TRX 500 with its 45 HP and me on the solid Speed Triple with Michelin 2CT Sports tyres. The tyres were the least of my worries, Michelin does rain like no other, even Cup tyres stick somehow (!), my issue was the darkness, seeing I totally forgot to put the clear visor on..., not only IT IS clear, dahhh, but also has a pin lock, very useful in damp conditions and it was damp! Anyway, after 1 hour and a half of rain pounding our spirits, undeterred as they were, we were in need of refreshments and something nice in our bellies. The service station toilets had Dyson hand dryers and we took great advantage of those magical machines as much as possible, warming up our hands and drying the gloves insides. This is me next to the Dyson feeling delight to be out on the bike with my best friend!! I really was!! We hung our jackets on the chairs and by the end of lunch I am sure some ducklings could have swam in the puddle under the chair!!! We got a break in the weather after refuelling our stomachs, the rest of the afternoon, dark as it was ( although it could have been my visor!!), the weather relented a little and we reached the winery estate safe and sound and with just the odd spot of rain. Its a place I absolutely love, those of you that follow mine and @pedros reports, have seen it before, a few years back I made a video there for your annoyance/entertainment! Its called Herdade do Sobroso, a very nice hotel, in a traditional Alentejo farm house and the wine they make there is absolutely divine. The food is off the scale delicious! The room had underfloor heating, so we spread our gear on the floor, taking advantage of some serious hot spots and the next day there was no water in sight!! The Dinner was great!! Nothing like overcoming difficult conditions to make us feel superhuman and chuffed with ourselves! Plus a bottle of gorgeous wine also helps! They brought us the starters, just little things they said… in reality that could have been the meal already! Wonderful scramble eggs with wild asparagus, grilled cheese in a coquette, mini chicken pies and tempura prawns were “the little things” before the main meal. For me came a soup made from a fish that is a “cousin” of the shark, delish, and for Barbara pork cheeks, something her grandmother used to cook, but somehow those survivors of WW II rationing didn’t pass-on the knowledge of using and cooking every scrap of food and modern Britain as no idea what a pork cheek is or how it tastes, unless its in a sausage! Barbara, being a lady from Cheshire and farming background, loved it!!! #noveganshere Dessert were 2 deceivingly small cakes, specialities developed in Convents where bored Nuns converted their lust into the sweetest of sweets using kilos of sugar, eggs and almonds. Not for the faint hearted ( or diabetic!), on a normal day not ideal after such a meal, but in that setting, with that wine and after the giddiness of the day, another 1000 calories was not going to harm anyone! OK, maybe the liver got slightly harmed… That house is, for me, the perfect kind of home. The one story building, with high ceilings, showing the inside of the roof and its wooden beams, the enormous fireplace, made that way to smoke the chouricos and salamis in the olden days, now burning the most lovely fire and giving us a hug of warmth and comfort that only a real log fire on a stormy night can give. The staff did a great job of keeping us topped up while we melted into the sofas and I felt like my Grandmother was going to pop round the corner at any given moment, that's how much I felt at home! Dolce far niente… We woke up on the day of my birthday and, unlike what is normal on my birthday, it was very gloomy and actually raining! It never rains on my birthday!! On arrival the day before, we had encountered the owner of the Estate and on knowing of my special birthday, he requested us to stay fora birthday lunch and kindly offered me a bottle of bubbly, so we were already half way to staying... Again this place wraps itself around me like a snake and enchants me to stay!! We looked at the sky, not looking good… We then headed to the breakfast table and it didn't take us long ( not even 5 minutes!) to decide we would have the lunch, the bubbles, the afternoon tea and also the diner!! We were definitely staying another night and celebrate my birthday in style by doing nothing! Not something that comes natural to me, but it was exactly what was needed and I accept, there is something very nice in the Dolce far niente way of life, must practise it more. Breakfast was delicious and very well presented! After breakfast we had a leisurely stroll around the house, not straying to far, not wanting to exhaust ourselves!! Lunch was wild boar roast with vegetables and migas, a unique speciality of this region that I will refrain myself from explain, it needs a post of its own!! What followed next was the loveliest of surprises, organised in secrecy by the two best people in my life, Barbara and @Pedro. They colluded together to organise a birthday cake, with candles (!!) and the staff made a chorus of 2 singing the happy birthday song! I was beyond embarrassed and also very grateful for all the thought and care they had put into the whole thing. As birthdays go, it is very hard to have a better one. We proceed to eat the cake and drink the sparkling wine all afternoon, next to the fire, dragging ourselves for a little walk before dinner to say hello to the bikes and laugh at everything, funny or not so funny, in a way that only a whole bottle of bubbles can do! Especially considering Barbara actually paid a lot of money to rent the bike and we did around 250 kms in total so far! We laughed at this realisation and our motorcycling achievement, the best thing for it really! They had promised us a light meal for dinner, after 24 hours of solid eating and drinking, and one might say it was… lighter…fair enough! Delicious yet again and followed by fruit, not the infamous Catholic cakes intended to make celibacy a little more bearable! Morning came with heavy rain but the Weather App was adamant that it would clear after 10am, so we took our time with the great breakfast, ordering scrambled eggs and bacon and filling ourselves with bread with tomato jam, very traditional in the South of Portugal, and more orange cake, my absolute favourite. We somehow managed to get into our trousers, a difficult endeavour I have to say… packed, loaded the bikes and, as forecasted, blue sky forced its way between the dark clouds and we set off totally and utterly like new people, feeling relaxed and years younger, , which in my case, was a great way to start a new year, a new decade even!!! We were going direction South, to Algarve, searching for its famous Winter warmth, soft light and general pleasantness all round. There is a reason Brits have been moving there since the 60s, following Cliff Richard, the very first to buy a Villa and spend Winter enjoying the delights of this stretch of land, many times more akin with the other side of the Water in its mannerisms, architecture and personality then with the Continent it is solidly attached to. You can feel Northern Africa there, the sand is different, the houses have flat roofs, the people are darker and even after almost 8 centuries of Christianity, you can easily confuse the typical Algarve chimney with a minaret from a mosque. Algarve comes from Al Garbe, meaning Occidental, because it was the Westerly part of the Al Andalus, the moor Kingdom in the South of the Iberia peninsula. It has a geographic border with the rest of Portugal, 2 ridges of mountainous terrain that made it hard to capture from the moors and give it a distinct ambience, so marked that until Portugal become a Republic in 1910, it was always referred to as “The Kingdom of Algarve”, so the Portuguese Kings were titled as “King of Portugal and the Algarve”. Never had a King of its own, but throughout the centuries it always enjoyed a deference no other part of Portugal had, not even Lisbon! Algarve is also defined geographically by water, in the East the River Guadiana that separates it from Spain, in the South and West the Atlantic Ocean in all its force and glory. While the East side of Algarve is mellow and romantic like the River Guadiana, a strong favourite of the Arab Poets that populated Al Andalus before it was destroyed by the Christian Conquest, the West is Wild, windy, salty and unforgiving. Sagres, where the land ends and the Sea begins, the most Westerly point in Europe, could not be more fierce and violent when the Gods of the Sea so decide, a magical place with the always enchanting and alluring energy of all “finis terra” locations. Algarve is by no means my favourite part of the small country that is “Portucale”, but it's aloof nature and the influence of a culture I like to study and understand, fascinates me. Unfortunately it's become a one trick pony to the majority of visitors that only do the beach, the bars and the hangover, overlooking its amazing history, visible in its castles and roman ruins and in the writing of erudite moors that studied the stars from their Sheikh Palaces, where they also wrote beautiful poetry. In fairness, the beaches are the best and we enjoyed good walks on them on our last day! @Pedro has a specific point on the road entering Algarve via the mountains where he feels like Africa is calling and the wind feels warmer and everything gets better! For us it was a little like that too, we travelled down avoiding the majority of the rain, going between downpours and drying out pretty fast and once over the ridge, indeed the temperature went up and the rain stopped, letting us enjoy the views and taste the Sea in our mouth even if we could not see it yet! The lovely people at the Wine Estate made us a “pack lunch” each and we stopped at the entrance to Algarve to eat and relax a little before heading to Triumph Algarve to look for some gloves for Barbara. Unfortunately when we got there it was closed, so we proceeded to meet a friend of mine that has moved to Algarve and kindly invited us to stay at her house. For those of you that do Golf, we stayed right next to ( inside even…) one of the most famous Golf Courts in the World! Famous why, you may ask?! Because it's on the cliff and one can Golf right to the edge and if one misses the putt, the ball either lands on the beach 30 metres below or it actually goes in the Sea! I find that particularly funny!! As nice as it is to enjoy a day in a super luxurious place, with the greenest of greens around you wherever you look, it's very “resortie”, not very genuine and hard to walk a dog when they keep knicking the golfers balls from the Ts or jumping in the Golf Course manicured ponds and lakes!! Funny, but not for long, those golfing guys get very angry ( look at Trump!) and they have weapons in the Golf bags and buggies to chase us!!! The last thing we did together was to visit the beach in Faro, where I had been previously with Pedro and once at the famous motorcycle meet that happens every year around June/July time. Barbara also became a little in love with Algarve and must have really missed it, flying home from Faro to a very cold and snowy Manchester!! The 2 of us have been friends for 21 years, we have shared so many amazing motorcycle trips together and also not so amazing life events, we can talk non stop for hours and now that we travel with intercoms, the chat can continue on our travels, amusing on the onlookers when 2 women go past gesticulating while riding a motorcycle!! We said goodbye at the airport and 1 hour later her rented bike was collected and thus ended my 1st moto tour!! It was a test run of the bike rental, the hotel booking and the invoice making, and it all went really well, so I am a lot more confident Turtle Mototours will kick off in 2023 and will be successful! I stayed in Algarve for another night and the next day set off relatively early with the intention of reaching Estremoz!! I have a lot of roots in this town, but more than that, I have a 2nd family as well. Before moving to the UK it was where I settled working in farm practice with a great vet that was already 76 years old when I started working with him! He retired at 92 and now, carrying 98 years on his shoulders, he is still as mentally sharp as ever and a joy to be with. I visit as much as I can, every minute counts when the journey has been that long… In 1999, when I started my life there, I just fitted in like a jigsaw piece that was missing and in spite of wandering off to the lands of Northern Europe and the years that have passed, it's still the same and so I just turn up unannounced and there is always a seat at the table and a bed ready to sleep in. Life is good to me!!! Had to fill up before starting the day and the Hipster in me actually asked the owner of this beauty if wanted to swap!! Luckily he decline saying his drivers licence is only up to 50cc!! To reach Estremoz was a full day's riding, all little roads over the mountains in Algarve first and they are stunning at the moment!! Again there were some serious showers that gave me a good soaking because I had no waterproofs determined as I was my optimism would beat the rain and it did!!! After 2pm no more rain, my non waterproof clothing dried out and I was happy! And hungry!! Decided to do a Pedro and go into a little village looking for some food and BUM! Found a cool, mega traditional restaurant. I went in and there was that moment of a Cowboy movie when the stranger walks in the Saloon and everyone goes quiet and stares at the unknown character standing at the bar!! In my case the staring is more intense given I am a woman, alone, ON A MOTORCYCLE!! This stuff doesn't happen in these parts, where men are men and women are, mainly, in the kitchen!! It's the interior and south, a very small village and like anywhere, a smile goes a long way, so I smile and it's all good. Turns out the owner also has a Triumph and, inevitably, bikes brought us together and we discussed motorcycling and motorcycles for a while. The food was simple, but gorgeously home made! This is a land I know well and I absolutely love! I even start talking with their accent without realising it, which used to leave Pedro, and others, a bit baffled, but, my roots are in Alentejo, it's like I go back in time!. So after smiling and asking for my food, I sat down next to 2 old men and we talked about sheep and cows and crops, because deep inside I am a countryside lass!! After, 2 doggies came, an 18 year old, must be tough as old boots to survive so long in a place no one will ever take her to a vet (!) and after that, a 1 year old gorgeous Collie, with whom I shared some food and that for sure had fleas… Made me think next time I will take a vet kit with me! That was one of the most beautiful afternoons riding I have ever had. The fields are so, so beautiful… Thanks to the miraculous amount of water that has blessed this land of constant drought, the fields are green with grass and peppered with yellow, purple and white from little flowers blooming, a little early in fairness, making the whole thing look like Turner painted it himself!! No one does countryside like Turner, fact! The funny moment of the afternoon, stupidly I did not stop to photograph, was finding a game of Cricket in the middle of a small village buried in the Portuguese deep South! I almost fell off the motorcycle in amazement!! And laughing! Good or bad, not sure yet, we now have in Portugal a lot of intensive production of vegetables in greenhouses. In the South some towns, previously empty and abandoned, have found a new life with this industry and the manual labourers it hires. Well, I hope they hire and pay them, not enslave like in other parts of the Iberian Peninsula, mainly in Spain!! They come and they settle and they play cricket, which is so extraordinary and nice!! These are people from Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, South East Asia and I have nothing but respect for them and for the, mainly very old, locals that were sitting around the ex-football field watching this impromptu game of an incomprehensible sport for anyone in the World other than British or Countries where Britain left a flag! At this point I was racing the Sun, trying to arrive before it set, because after that my visor is woefully inadequate and it goes bloody cold!! For that reason there are no pictures to show you and no amount of words will ever transmit the beauty of a January evening and its soft light illuminating the mountain I had to cross, bringing cork trees alive in oranges and greys and kissing the earth goodnight till the following day. I do have some photos of the next morning on my way home for your enjoyment! Sometimes all we need is a friend; Sometimes all we need is a change of scenery and a challenge; Sometimes all we need is to do nothing for a day; Sometimes all we need is love and kindness; Sometimes all we need is a great day-ride alone; And sometimes life gives you all of the above in 5 days!!! Thank you for reading.

And by 11 all the wall paper will fall off the walls

Can’t beat the homemade ones, these are courtesy of the current wife ………you can’t get too close to a naked flame with these bad boys

06th December, Tuesday Dawn at 08:05 from my hotel room. Breakfast my hotel was not included in the room price I paid, and I didn't feel at all captivated by it either, too international and I'm feeling like an adventure. The plan was to swiftly ride out of Marrakech and through the Atlas heading East. Roads are cool, views are cool, weather seems to be behaving, all's cool. I ride out heading to Azilal. Already out of town I am not missing breakfast, but I am missing something to start the day comfortably instead of just water, so stop by a Café Mobile. The quality of the expresso these guys put out from the back of a small van is amazing, 10 times better than the best you can get in most Europe except Portugal and Italy, and even then there might be a case for Morocco's roadside café. The guy is surprised I take pictures of his car, but I tell him that's not very common in Portugal. He quickly says that if I plan on making a Portuguese business he is available as a partner , but being no fool quickly says that in Portugal you probably need fees and permits and taxes, there you just set it up and go. At 6 net dirhams per expresso it IS pretty good business. He did follow good practices on cleaning the stuff and preparing it for the next coffee using boiling water, more so than most cafes in Portugal, I was amazed. Maybe one of these days I'll start going for the more complicated coffees like milk and foams and sugars and all that stuff, maybe after going back to Taroudant and staying in the gay hotel too Azilal is a very civilized place, if I were to go live in Morocco for good and looking for a place to properly live this could well be it. I stop to send a postcard home Tagalf, just a village full of people living a hard mountain life, all the kids smiled and laughed though Donkeys, always stop for donkeys Riding out of Azilal, a young man is hitch hiking along, not a tourist but a kid on trainers and just jeans and a sweater walking along a road, he must have been 17 or 19, I wave back and he salutes me with their gesture of waving at you and then touching their hearts, so I ride back and offer him a ride. Carried him for maybe 30 or 40km in 7 or 8ºC, he should have been freezing but always with a smile and happy to not be walking. When I left him he said he was going up to Beni Melal, maybe another 30km but going north, he had no problems thanking for the ride and I watched as he walked away decidedly down the road, hope he got a ride instead of walking through the night as it's cold there. Stopped in Aghbala, it was 15:17 when this picture was taken. Aghbala has many qualities: it's got a kick ass adventure sounding name, it's busy in a Atlas exotic sort of adventure way instead of nasty city way, smoke from coal grills and woodburning chimneys was wafting through the air, streets were paved with mud covered tarmac, people couldn't give a shit about me being there except for kids, I spotted a little snack place with a hot metal plate, so stop the bike and walk in. The lady running the place didn't speak a word of french but we got along, I managed to get my favourite sardines served inside a bread long with diced tomatoes and onions, it was pretty fucking awesome and flavoured perfectly. Just the kind of thing to pick you up. Picture does not do it justice. Also had a kind of sausage, that feels like mostly paprika inside with little meat, it was quite spicy. I've no idea what it's made of. As I was eating, there was a lady with a child in the back. The little girl completely taken with curiosity came to investigate me from a safe distance. After a few winks she finally gave me the biggest smile, I didn't catch that on a picture though. Nothing like a silly traveller to make women put on a pretty smile for a crazy foreigner Feeling comforted from both a great meal and the warming smiles, I crack on! The plan was to make it back to Imilchil, the little mountain village I had passed through a few days before, and take the lovely mountain dirt pass again, going again to Boulmane and then coming back north up the Todra Gorge. This would add at least a day to my trip but who cares, I make progress... Temperatures drop substancially, it's now about 16:30 and it's been between 6 to 8ºC for the last hour or so, then it becomes clear the more mountain passes crossing the Atlas aren't a good idea, I'll let the pictures tell you why, that white stuff is where I'm heading. I've been to Imilchil and that area in days that saw me enduring 35º before and after, and still being sort of chilly there, it didn't sound like a half pleasant idea to go past there with snow on, so that plan was discarded and I fell back on plan B, Plan B was to go near Zaida, and stay back on the same place I did before. Funny enough that's what me and Maria did in 2017, stayed there once going South and once going North. I went, and about one hour later got there. It was now getting proper cold in the area. I tried the check in and nobody was there, the restaurant and you could go in and rob the place, nobody around, tried to see if the room I wanted was open and it wasn't, then tried everything again and found the TV room, everyone was watching the first half of the Morocco vs Spain match. I got my key and we left formalities for later, quickly had a hot shower and made it there to watch the end of the match. Morocco won on penalties, their goalkeeper "Bono" was gigantic and eliminated Spain. Most people lost their shit, the single one guy in front of the tv not jumping? He's a Spaniard: Now, Moroccans are insane about football, they will now way more about the portuguese league than I ever will, they'll know players names from the first 15 teams in Portugal, and that knowledge extends to Spain, France, Germany, England and Italy, it's amazing. They will watch most things with true enthusiasm, and that day Portugal was to play agains Switzerland. My new friend Mamoud proclaimed he would watch the match with me, so now I had to I had my dinner of preserved citron and chicken tagine, and it was very much amazing, and drank a 375cc bottle of Moroccan wine. It's not the greatest wine, it's below average in Portugal, but you live according to your surroundings What happened next was a thing of beauty, as I sat down to watch the match, 10 minutes after it started there were two guys there; one Moroccan, tall guy built like a closet, had a big smile but only one crooked tooth to be seen, then the other was clearly European. As he didn't say hello back when I sat down I asked if he was Moroccan and he answers with a very distinct superiority: "Moroccan, me? I'm Swiss!" I proudly stated I was Portuguese, and the Moroccan guy just erupted into the loudest laugh, and went to scrub his hands together in a way that clearly meant "game on!" Portugal finished the first half with 2 or 3 goals over the Swiss team, clearly going to win, my Swiss fellow traveler wasn't a good looser. I went out and smoked a cigarette with Mamoud and another guy, now part of the small group of avid football fans. I went and bought another wine bottle, to share with Mamoud, but did the gentlemanly thing and went to offer some to the Swiss, who coldly stated he was having a beer. So, instead of ordering a big bottle I got another small one, Mamoud wasn't much of a drinking and I felt awkward to drink a normal amount amongst company with unknown beliefs towards alcohol. German tourer parked for the night outside the restaurant, I can see the appeal in proper winter: The Swiss made fun of Moroccan wine, and went on to nurse the one sip left on his beer glass for a while, stating that in Portugal we do have nice wine. I agreed, and swallowed my mental response in which I told him that being a Swiss he knows shit about wine. Portugal won 5-1, the dude quickly got up 1 second after the final beep and stormed out, he was a twat and sadly the first contact I had with another foreign motorcyclist. Had another smoke with Mamoud to celebrate, who turns out used to ride a 125cc 2 stroke Yamaha (it went up hills with two big people no problem) said our farewells, and went to bed. It was properly cold that night, but I slept great after a day of motorcycle riding, mountains, good food and a little wine in me, and enjoyed my comfy bed with really heavy covers.

04th December, Sunday Wake up at my own pace after a night well slept. This traveling all day does provide for good sleep, and I can definitely feel that compared to when at home. I am also in love with the feeling of packing stuff to the bike, which takes 5 seconds with BMW's Vario cases, then have something to eat and some hot beverage, and then ride off like you're a pro. Makes me feel like a movie star The plan is to ride back east for a bit all the way to Four El Hism on the R102, then turn the bike North and use that canyon to climb over the mountains over to Argan territory, stop at a small town that sells some Argan based products, and then go in the direction of Marrakech past the most Star Wars sounding city name ever, Taroudant, and the Tizi N'Test mountain pass, all good stuff to look forward to on the start of the journey north, I certainly wouldn't be reaching Marrakech's chaos today, though, and was unsure where to stop. Ahead of me, I knew I had some of the best mountain roads over the following three days. Morning cold and saying hello to donkeys when stopping to put on my warm gloves. Reach the palm trees of Tamarnt and head north on a gorge road, the R107 starts down on the desert, enters into the mountains via a gorge, climbs on the end of it and goes to Tafraout: Arriving in Tafraout at almost 14:00, I shop around to buy a little bit of pure Argan oil, and have some amazing chicken for lunch And at 15:00 get back on the road north, heading to Taroudant! This was to be an amazing bit of the trip, Argan trees grow very slowly so most of the ones I see over these mountains are really old, it's a great experience. Over near the other side of that valley there is Taroudant, it was now about 17:30 so I was going to get there at around sunset time. Traveling here took forever, the roads are amazing and worthy of more time, the distances aren't even that great but I kept stopping to look at trees and pick a few argan seeds to take home. Temperature was climbing as I approached the valley in front too, which felt great after the morning's cold. Beyond the valley, you get the first glimpse of the Atlas too, it's always an impressive landmark to approach. Taroudant is a walled city, like a smaller less chaotic Marrakech. It's got a cool vibe to it, I stopped once for tea in the middle of the day and liked how it felt, back then it was quite a hot day though, and I was happy to sprint for the mountains, today it felt warm as I arrived which was good, the next day I knew I was going to be cold at 2000 meters. Being a walled city, it's got a few doors around it, but makes navigation hard, I searched on google maps for a hotel and found somewhere on the outskirts, it was now getting dark and I felt tired, so went for it, what happened next was a bit surreal. I showed up at the place and it was a riad sort of thing with a walled in garden like what is normal on the outskirts of town, it looked alright but had disco music blaring. I park the bike inside the closed gates, and there's a weird ambience going on. Walk into reception and the guy tells me they had a 700 dirham room for me, I laugh at him and tell him they've got some at 500 in booking, and he tells me to sit down and talk. Now, this dude sits down next to me and very quietly, and gaily, tells me to consider a special price of 400 dirhams with breakfast included, and that I should let him show me the room. It doesn't sound good, I get a weird feeling again and tell him no deal, and I prepare to leave, he then insists and tells me that for 400 dirhams I get the room, breakfast, dinner, and that he would really be happy if I were with him so he could show the room to me, and doing that he simply lays his hand gently on my leg. I then realize what sort of place that is, why I had a weird feeling when saluting the guys sitting on the garden, how weird and out of place the Ibiza type music sounded, and what really came with that room, so quite quickly told him I'd stay nearer to the city center, and left. I then find another place inside the city walls, it's pricier but seems really very nice and less chance of sex with other men. After getting a little lost I did find the location, and was delighted to ride a little bit of a weird access street lodged between the city walls and the hotel entrance itself. This hotel, the Moulin de Taroudant, (can't say Taroudant without picturing Jedis and light sabers!) was an old water mill now refurbished by a french guy, they had nice comfy beds, rooms with no offers of sex, and a very relaxing restaurant where I had a pretty gourmet fish skewer and aubergine pure, it was good. After a nice shower to wash the road off me, I was delighted to have a glass of Moroccan white wine outside, and then eat by the fireplace, where I met a nice older couple of Scots, and staid late drinking red wine with them. Charlie and his kind wife (with a very weird name that I can't for the life of me remember) were great company. I slept well, having had a bottle and a half of pretty average red wine I felt ready for bed. The next day? Mountain roads surely await, and adventure

28th November, Monday, I wake up in absolute silence feeling what you feel when you´re warm in bed and it's clearly cold outside and it's been a quiet sleep, however, I mustn't lay in bed too late as there's a tasty breakfast awaiting and my plan for today's ride is to go on mountains, over more than 2000 meters through broken roads and challenging terrain, I've done that before but in summertime the days are a lot longer and the risk of being in the mountains after sunset isn't being really really cold. Also, particularly exciting and always in my head was trying out a pass that I did previously intended on doing but never did because of rains and whatever. Being alone gave me a freedom of choice that comes with not having someone precious holding on to you, and also a lot higher offroad capability from not carrying a passenger. Firstly, packed everything onto the bike and went for breakfast. I like to have the bike all ready to go before breakfast, just putting on the helmet and tightening the jacket without the fuss of luggage feels a lot more relaxed when you do go. Now, I drink wine frequently at home, and you would think that quitting that alcohol intake would make me lose weight when on the road here, but what empty calories I no longer ingest here are amply replaced and more with breakfast calories and sugar, Moroccan breakfast pancakes are a weakness that I indulge in, and when it's really cold in the morning and you're setting off just one hour after sunrise having a good warm breakfast in you is very enticing. So, msmen and eggs and orange juice and coffee: Starting up I usually don't warm up my bike, but after a cold night outside and the oil at 05 or 06 degrees, I do: From my hotel making way to Boumia and the mountains, if you want to check on google maps you go from Boumia to Imilchil via the tiniest numbered roads available, this is my stuff! The bikes rides really well in altitude, the speeds are low because it's really twisty and the surface is challenging, plus the people here are ultra friendly. When there's no effort being made to translate road signs, you are on the right kind of roads I came up to this school transport van, which are frequently the most modern and better vehicles in rural Morocco, in the mountains they usually have double wheels in the back and are driven quite competently over a variety of challenging terrains, I stopped to let it cross this oued because I couldn't ride as slowly as it did. All the kids inside were waving back. As I was waiting for the van to cross the water, I was approached by a young kid wanting to take a picture of me, after I said yes and struck a pose I offered to take a picture of himself on my bike using his phone, and he was delighted, this in turn brought in two of his friends and we spent a few moments there. That was very cool, kids are quick to come up to you and ask for stuff like candy or a dirham, but once you stop and engage them offering a sit on your bike they suddenly are out of their confort zone and instead become curious and treat you with hospitality, such as their elders treat travelers. It's a good thing to experience, they still asked me for a sweet but I only had a tiny piece of cake wrapped in paper from the breakfast, they promptly split it three ways which ended up being barely nothing for each of them, and gave the biggest part to the girl. That makes you appreciate things. Riding on: Again, once upon a time all this was tarmac: I stop for a few work calls, my phone re-entering an area with data coverage that it was monday and I had a few emails arriving. The fact that I was parked in the below location while everyone that I spoke to in Spain and Portugal pictured me in an office made me feel very cool and special. Gusts of dry dust over a mountain pass beat a desk everyday! While that was happening, Morocco was going on around me: I reach Imilchil at 14:00, and stop for hot mint tea, Imilchil is a small town that feels epic. You get there are are bombarded with smells from grilled meats, coal smoke from bbq wafts in the air, there's exposed animals hanging from the butchers, dust blows, it's high in the mountains so it feels like adventure, pure adventure! Also people will salute you in a respectful way to then leave you about your business, it's one of my favourite places ever to stop for tea while making you feel like Indiana Jones. From Imilchil I go South, and at Agoudal consider what gorge to take down into the plains, Todra Gorge is very scenic with a very easy road, the colours of the sandy rocks is gold and it's an amazing experience at the end of the day under sunset lights. However, I went via the Dades Gorge. The R704 is one of Morocco's great roads, in my opinion, it's in the map in yellow and has a speed limit of 80kmh for the most part. This is very Morocco as you'll see, it's a very dangerous road if you're caught on a storm as the drops are fierce more so if you are driving a truck as it's a narrow road, or it used to be. They are making it wider and tarmac, they're working from each end and at first I'm disappointed to find this: But then, all of a sudden, the new safe and wide road ends and you're back to the old mountain pass, that's a good thing because to drive at illegal speeds here means to ride properly: My iPhone's camera doesn't translate the depth of the surrounding views: Again, I strike a pose, it felt silly but made me feel accompanied This R704 is amazing, I might have to go back next year because this is going to end and wide safe tarmac just doesn't have the same appeal. And just like that, it's over and returns to a normal Gorge road, with concrete oued crossings and village kids playing after school The first time I was in Morocco, in 2014 on the 1150GS, I remember coming this way on the oposite side and being turned back because the rains had caused mudslides to block the road, it was much narrower and more dangerous back then, but the views remain impressive: The long shadow reminds me I'm about to run out of sunlight and go for my planned hotel, but first still have to ride down into the riverside and into the gorge itself Although the sun was going down and already 17:30, some locations are just mandatory stops. Plus now it's all pretty much nice tarmac through easy marked locations so it's no longer a problem if night arrives. The below picture is one of Morocco's most publicized bits of road, and it was shot from the hotel I planed on staying, it was opening in 2016 when I stayed there with Maria and Rui, but I arrived a few days too late and they had closed for the season. Instead I rode another 5 or 10km and stayed somewhere else, arriving just as the sun drops bellow the mountains. Parked the bike in front, and still had time to have a hot shower and to sit outside with my laptop for a bit, before dark and coldness really arrived. The complimentary tea and cookies were good hospitality, I forgot I only had that tea at Imilchil since breakfast, riding kept me busy since morning. Dinner was a little bit of a missed hit on them, it was included in the room price as sometimes it is around these parts as you can't just pop out down the street for a restaurant. The hot pumpkin soup was amazing, the rest was a little weird but A for effort anyway. I liked it was hot and comforting, but not really memorable. Bedding was comforting, two layers of blankets over the sheets in a firm mattress, it felt cozy under heavy covers sheltered from a cold sharp night outside. I fell asleep late but comfortably, and slept soundly as one does after a busy day of dust and big views.

‘You mention diet again and I will piss in your boots’

Soft pampered lap dog, no fierce family saving rat killer. He caught a bloody huge rat in the garden this morning and dispatched it with aplomb. Back to soft loving family pet now but proud of him for taking the rat out. It's the second time he has done it, in the summer we had a rat get in the house and sorted that one to. As my daughter calls him Odious Maximut, as she thought it appropriate he have a gladiatorial name

My submission now features a monkey which shows that anyone can ride a GS and even monkeys have taste!

Shock, horror......I actually got out on the bike this afternoon! Probably need a lie down now!

Went out for lunch today to this awesome spot by the water. It’s down a few backroads and in the middle of nowhere, but the food is great and the scenery was lovely.

I had a great ride up to the pub a few miles from Betws-y-Coed yesterday, its about 150 miles one way from my home which doesn't sound a lot but its 150 miles of roads with tight bends dips and humps with some of them quite narrow and covered in crap from farm vehicles and bad weather. I was waiting for the frost to lift but at 11am my car was still frozen solid so had to just leave otherwise i would be putting my tent up in the dark. I took the A470 to Brecon not the nicest of roads to start but its just a bit you have to do to get north fast. The temperature was just above 3°c the bike was running so smooth with the more road biased tyre on the back and sounding nice again, I had my bar muffs fitted with heated grips and heated jacket on, with a grin on my face i didn't have a care in the world then bugger i forgot my ear plugs something i never used in the past but i am trying to use now as my ears tend to ring a bit after a long ride but no chance of going back so i press onto the upper chapel road (B4520) from Brecon to Builth Wells, a great road for any bike. From here it's back on the A470 to Rhayader stopped for fuel, cash and to check the bike over to see if the load is still good That's the latest thing in tent urinals on the top of my bag Out of Rhayader i took a right off the A470 onto the B4518 to Llanidloes and past Clywedog Reservoir Have to use google for images here https://www.google.com/maps/@52.4847135,-3.5955438,3a,75y,208.11h,80.61t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sgXdvNRGi2coZ0fEfA5bhkg!2e0!6shttps:%2F%2Fstreetviewpixels-pa.googleapis.com%2Fv1%2Fthumbnail%3Fpanoid%3DgXdvNRGi2coZ0fEfA5bhkg%26cb_client%3Dmaps_sv.tactile.gps%26w%3D203%26h%3D100%26yaw%3D206.62186%26pitch%3D0%26thumbfov%3D100!7i16384!8i8192 before i get to Llanbrynmair i hang another right onto an unclassified road now i'm on the roads i really like Next stop was to check on the fence where @boboneleg tried to reenact Steve McQueens great escape and unlike Steve McQueen Bob did get over the fence to freedom but his bike didn't make it only one post still leaning and the fencing vertical wires are still where the DR pushed them to This road took me to the Llangadfan where i then picked up the B4395 to the B4393 around Lake Vyrnwy Google to the rescue again https://www.google.com/maps/@52.778067,-3.4932284,3a,75y,356.18h,72.62t/data=!3m8!1e1!3m6!1sAF1QipNFHzCZWdndfOaYtnlWVYgHY5xusSDhN_UiIYhE!2e10!3e11!6shttps:%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipNFHzCZWdndfOaYtnlWVYgHY5xusSDhN_UiIYhE%3Dw203-h100-k-no-pi-10-ya40-ro0-fo100!7i8192!8i4096 At the end of the res there's two unclassified roads that go over to east and west sides of Bala Lake i normally ride the west side from Dinas Mawddwy but decided to ride the east side today here's a few photos of the road up and over the pass Got to the pub just after 3pm and had to work out how to put the tent up its been so long since the last time i done it trying out a light weight camp bed i bought many years ago but never got round to using it got to say i had a good nights sleep but woke up to a malfunction with the in tent urinal I think this was the cause of the urinal malfunction packed up this morning by 08:30 all dry with no hangover and all ready for the Dragon campsite felling great. Went in for breakfast and while i was in there the heavens opened and it pissed it down i thought there's no way i'm sticking the tent back up in that so i thought fuck it and headed home. i found a pair of ear pugs in jacket pocket so had a quiet ride home LOL, The rain wasn't too bad but the wind was blowing me about like a flag and on the narrow mountain roads it was bloody dangerous and i started feeling a bit queasy so stuck to the main roads home the bike ran faultlessly

I'll try this one with strategically placed gloves for now

Lands End just arrived from John o Groats overnight. June 2005.

Come on, show me your two stroke road bikes. Does anyone still have one?? I just dropped $180 on an NSR150RR. It needs some TLC (read, total restoration) but it's going to be a cracker. Can I hit 180kph with $180? A question which remains to be answered. Anyway if you know anything about NSRs please say hi, I'm going to need to crowd source plenty of advice on this restoration journey...

From before I could afford a top box!

This was taken by bikerpics.uk i was too nervous to wave and corner at the same time not very stylish but why break the habit of a life time Also it was free if you ride a Honda then Honda paid for it

Merry Xmas to you all from Mrs Paws

My grandsons in Poland this morning!

Heading daaaan saaath today. The plan is to park van at Dawlish and then we can have a mooch on the bikes. While we are here though we are picking up the NC23 CBR400RR which @oldgrump has very kindly got running tickety boo for me. We are also going to call in to Gosport to visit Andys dad. Not sure how this is all going to happen but we are here now in Dawlish at the campsite. Heres a pic of our set up we took at the services. And hopefully a video..... I will upload more as we go Video is short. Dont know why as i recorded longer than that.

A ride drive report by Bob the boober , aged 63 and 45 days What a beautiful day it was today, bright sunshine and although a bit colder than recently it wasn't too chilly. So time for a drive around North Wiltshire and see the sights. Approx 16 miles from my house along the A420 is the village of Castle Combe. This is one of the most photographed villages in UK with it's chocolate-box cottages running alongside the By Brook . The village is not very big but it can take a while to drive through because of all the tourists trying to get 'that' shot. Even in these covid times there were still quite a few about today although I didn't see any coaches up in the public car park. Safely out of the village without running anyone over I headed up the Fosseway. The Fosseway is a roman road which starts at Seaton on the south coast and runs up to Lincoln in the north, a distance of approx 235 miles. I expect @Mawsley knws about the Fosse as it runs through Leicester on it's way North. Most of the Fosse has a tarmac surface nowadays.......... But in this part of Wiltshire there's about 20 miles where it is unsurfaced. Normally I would be going straight on at this point if I was on my bike but I thought better of it today as I was in the car.......... I tuned left instead and drove into the village of Sherston which was famous for it's wool trade in times past. There is still a link to that in the village as it's the home of 'Stretchline' who make knicker elastic A bit further down the road I passed Grittleton House which is now a party and event facility. If anyone's getting married soon I'm up for a party in that pad Later on I passed this. Fuckmine, it's even bigger than @Buckster bike and looks just as heavy I was a bit hungry by now and spotted a McMerd in Chippenham so I went through the drive through, unfortunately I was dissapointed as they had no McFlurry or milkshakes due to supply problems. I really like a McFlurry, it's about the best thing they sell but I had to be content with a cheeseburger and coffee

Finally got around to writing this up, I have been way too busy with union stuff at work. A couple of weeks ago I went for a run out to the border with England while it is still open, if the Scottish Nazi Party get their way it will be closed at some point. I went down the A68 which would be a great motorcycling road if it wasn't for all the speed cameras but that isn't much of an issue for the tractor. As there have been complaints of not enough pictures I went out of my way to take some. So here we are just outside Edinburgh, with those lovely wind turbines. Who doesn't love a nice wind turbine? Obligatory picture of the beast. Some miles later I headed off the main road towards my first planned stop. Which was Scotts View, said to be Sir Walter Scotts favourite view in Scotland. It was an even better view this time as this beauty was there. I continued along the lanes and was going to take in one of the Abbeys in the area but it was closed still so I headed to the Wallace statue that looks over the Jedburgh Valley, it was a bit of a walk though the woods to get there, luckily I wasn't raped by trolls. They live under trees like this. Here is the man himself. and his view of the lands he won back for Scotland before he made a twat of himself and suffered a brutal end at the hands of the English. I didn't go down the hill as there were strange noises and I am a lazy fucker. I headed back to the bike, it was at this point I realised I should have asked more questions of the person I spoke with earlier who said I might see "raptors" near the Wallace statue, I looked and looked and did not see any hawks in the area at all. However on the path back through the woods I met this bastard. Luckily a couple of English fatties walked up at this point so as my reptilian friend and his family took to eating this feast that were too wobbly to get away I took a swift walk to the bike and left. I headed back to the A68 and did not stop until I got the border. Where I turned around and availed myself of a cup of tea and a cheese burger and a cigar before heading back. I even got picture of some porn for Pete, these are English sheep.

So earlier in the year I noticed surface rust on the tank of my Tenere 700. As the bike was still under warranty I took a trip to the dealer and he put a warranty claim straight in. Once the tank and all the small parts arrived I asked the dealer if I could collect the tank and fit it myself as my plan was to have it painted before fitting it. There were two reasons for this, 1. I figured that it would only have the same amount of paint on there as the original , 2. I wanted to change the colour from the manky grey O/E colour. The dealer was fine with that so I went and collected the parts. I am lucky that through work we have an ace painter, he does all our Ducati stuff as well as custom paint jobs on cars. He had done a Yamaha R1 a couple of months before and had found a colour from 'House of Kolor ' that was a great match and had enough left over to do my tank and the little side panels that were also manky grey. I managed to remove the tank from the bike a couple of weeks ago and then after I'd taken it into our workshop our mechanic removed the fuel pump and then it got painted. Old and new side by side............... and one of the small side panels........... On Tuesday my boss brought the finished items round to my house and I fitted it all yesterday. It's time consuming doing it all on one leg but it's not as if I'm doing anything else. Anyway, I'm really chuffed with the paint job and I think it looks much better that the O/E job............ Before ........... and after.............

Well I guess it can happen to all of us! Of course, breaking down on a very hot day in the middle of nowhere in rural Spain makes it even worse! OK.......here's the story! I was out by 10 before the wall of heat came down, and crossed into the Murcia province! Didn't take long to find some abandoned shit......a Petrol Station! I continued on and came across an abandoned country house! It was in a right state! Went in for a look round but the roof has fallen in on most of it! After clambering around in that devastation I continued on.......and found another Petrol Station! Which is when I was faced with the breakdown! No.....not me obviously.....I ride a BMW! Gutted now aren't you? It was some toothless Dago from Alicante broken down on a 20 year old two stroke Aprilia 125! He asked me if I had any ideas on what the problem was! All I could respond with was...... He reckoned it was fuel related so he did some shit with some tools! While he was trying to get it going I had a look round! By this time he'd got it spluttering away......though it didn't sound too clever to me! He told me he'd had the bike for 20 years since it was new! That's what they do here.....I've spoken to old guys who bought a bike new in the 1960's and have still got it. When I tell them I've had 64 bikes they look at me like I'm odd! The guy said that it's never broken down before in 20 years! Until today! Well until I showed up basically! Anyway.....I didn't have any more time to exchange pleasantries with toothless motorcyclists. I thought I'd put all that behind me when I left @Renegade on his own to be Billy No Mates until the end of time! It was starting to get hot, so it was off home before it became too unbearable. But as usual I found more deserted shit en-route! So there you have it......just another day in Spain

Little argan tree is doing great, and enjoying the current heat

The dog was feeling a bit rough so after a few internal organ replacements it was ready to ride cover your eyes if your squeamish this is open heart surgery. The day started with the rebuild After a little work she lives A few hours later and i'm on the road but thinking i better not stray too far after the rebuild so up to my local byway . It was pointed out to me the shadow looks like a reindeer lol And then onto my mountain After a check for oil leaks it was onto check out a lane that was illegally closed but overturned by the TRF Then some of my favorite tarmac to sennybridge for fuel This is the end of the roman road out of Trecastle only took the photo because it doubled up as a piss stop Then onto the Crychan forest which has been graded and has made it easy enough to drive your car through now Then it was the ride home trying to keep it under 55. past the Llwyn Onn reservoir it was like a mirror these are photos of it up the right way and upside down you tell me which is which On the A470 i had to suffer the humiliation of a scooter rider burning me off because i was bedding things in the fucking wanker had the cheek to wave to me Bike ran beautifully restored my love for it again