29 FEB – And it’s goodbye Spain. Goodbye Santander – and goodbye to mainland Europe as I am now on the ferry and about to head to sea. I’m homeward bound.
Yesterday I had a walk around Santander and it’s a nice city. If you like food and drink it’s definitely a place to stay a night or two before you head home or head south. To the east of the city are some large open beaches too – if you like that sort of thing. I wanted to stay a day here just to see if Santander was a bit more than a ferry port. And it is.
I was at the ferry port an hour before we left and the check-in and boarding was simple and straightforward. I was onboard in no time and as soon as I stopped in the designated area for bikes, the crewmen were immediately securing my bike. Excellent.
I’m heading to Rosslare and we’re due to arrive tomorrow evening about 2000, and as it will be late I’ve booked myself into a B&B – which was a shock to my wallet, especially as there’s no breakfast… The following day I’ll be heading north to Belfast to catch another ferry – and then getting closer to home…
The ferry is big, modern, warm and comfortable. The crossing cost 208 eu, which included an inside cabin which was en-suite. On my outward journey I bought a ticket to the VIP lounge, where you can eat as much food as you want, whenever you want and also with wine. This time I never bothered as the cost has gone sky-high, so I’m going to be eating in coach-class – and I’m glad I did because the food is excellent. I spent the evening in my comfy warm cabin watching movies, and munching on a giant bag of M&M’s. Bliss…
1 MARCH – It was a bit lumpy last night, and equally so today. When I went for breakfast and a mid-afternoon meal there were very few people around. Very few. The food was superb and I really enjoyed the crossing. It wasn’t too expensive either, and I was surprised at the quality and the cost. I spent the day walking around the ship, watching the big waves through the window, reading my kindle and watching a movie, and by the time we arrived at 1930 I was starting to get bored. I’d be hopeless on a cruise.
It was dark when we arrived and had just stopped raining. By 2000 I was through customs and on the road, having to constantly remind myself to stay on the right-hand side of the road. I soon found the B&B, and soon had my bag off the bike and was warming up next to a hot radiator as it was so cold outside. Shower, bed, some TV and an early night…
2 MARCH – Today was going to be another long day. I could catch a ferry from Dublin to Holyhead or Belfast to Liverpool, and although Dublin to Holyhead meant less mileage, it also meant a very early start and as the roads were going to be frosty this morning, I decided to ride up to Belfast to catch tomorrow’s ferry to Liverpool. Doing it this way would mean I get a bit more of a lie-in and when I leave, hopefully the roads won’t be frosty.
Leaving the B&B I headed north. Not far away was a garage so as I was low on fuel I decided to top up. They also sold the most majestic and tasty bacon and sausage rolls, and I accidentally ordered two, plus some brown sauce (which is crucially important when eating bacon or sausage rolls) which I scoffed at a small seating area at the back of the shop.
With a full tummy and a tankful of fuel I resumed my journey north, joining the motorway south of Dublin and staying on the motorway until Belfast. The journey was bitterly cold, and between Dublin and Belfast I saw snow on many distant hills. Even though I was wearing several layers I felt I was going to freeze to death and had to make two stops just to get warm again. When I got to Belfast I went straight to Infinity Motorcycles and bought an electric jacket. It only took a few minutes to connect the wiring, and after a quick spin I was seriously impressed. It’s a keeper. I had booked myself into a Hotel to stay overnight, as my ferry was at 9am the following day. Fortunately the hotel was on the outskirts of the city, and as it had secure parking I didn’t need to unload the bike, just removing my tote bag.
3 MARCH – After a monumental breakfast I was on the road and heading to the ferry-port in Belfast. Although it was very cold this morning – I was as snug as a bug in a rug with my new electric jacket. As I said, it’s a keeper. Getting into the ferry-port was easy and I didn’t have to wait long until we started loading, which was quick and easy. The crossing to Birkenhead cost £75.
It was another lumpy crossing on a big, warm and comfortable ferry and yet again, all the people disappeared. I spent the day reading my kindle, dozing and eating snacks. Bliss… We arrived in Birkenhead at 1830 and it was dark, but fortunately dry. I had decided to head to Manchester to see my family, so joined the M53 then the M56 – heading towards Manchester.
Very quickly I realised I was back in the UK – with everyone hogging the middle and outside lanes on the motorway. Even on stretches of empty motorway there were still people just sat in the middle or outside lane. I really can’t understand this, which is why I prefer riding in Europe. I arrived I Manchester about 9pm, and had a happy reunion.
5 MARCH – With feelings of excitement and reluctance, I left Manchester and headed for Scotland. Excitement of being back in my flat and having a nice bed to sleep in, and reluctance because I knew that my journey was over and the trip had finished.
Arriving back home in Helensburgh, the skies had turned dark and grey, and it also started raining. A fitting Scottish welcome to a cold and weary traveller…! It had been 8 to 10 degrees for most of the journey, but fortunately it went quite quick. After an initial feeling of elation of seeing the ‘Welcome to Scotland’ sign when passing Gretna, a growing sense of sadness grew over the remaining miles. It was a little hard to accept that just two months ago I was in Senegal, and just a month ago I was enjoying the delights of Morocco. I almost felt like turning the bike around and going back but knew that I couldn’t – and can’t. As I was riding through Glasgow and getting closer to home, I literally felt like crying.
Arriving home I parked the mighty V-Strom outside my flat, unloaded my luggage and made the three trips to get my luggage upstairs. Opening my front door was quite an emotional moment. I stopped for a moment, saying to myself “Turn round and go back” but I knew I had to cross the threshold as my journey had ended. After getting off my riding gear I turned on the heating and wandered around my flat. It seemed so strange, and somehow smaller than it used to be. And then it was back to normality as I need to get changed and go out to the shops to get some milk and food, as my fridge and cupboards were bare.
Welcome home. And back to reality…
The bike now needs some TLC, which means a thorough clean, especially underneath the tank, around the engine and under the seat as those areas are still encrusted with the dust and dirt of Senegal. I also need to replace all the disks, clean all the disk calipers and replace the clutch push-rod seal as well as replace the plugs, all the fluids, oils and filters. But there’s no rush, I can do that in the coming weeks. I also need to earn some money again so that I can start saving up lots of biker beans for more travels – and there will definitely be more travels.
It’s been a superb experience. Sometimes people will talk about the high’s and low’s of a trip, but for me personally – there were no low’s. Okay, I felt a bit fed up when I broke my ankle but I knew that would only be a temporary delay so it wasn’t a big issue.
Yes, there were also a few frustrations. Like the policeman at the Douane in Dakar who wanted money to extend my bike permit – which should have been free. And the policeman at the border crossing in The Gambia who wanted money to stamp my passport out of the country. I paid up in both instances as you can’t really argue when they’re an official and they hold the key to your journey – a rubber stamp.
The police and military stops in Senegal and Gambia can wear you down – but only if you let them. They always wanted a ‘gift’, which I would refuse and after a while it just became a game. There was also the instance where the armed soldier in The Gambia wanted my Camelbak water container, and it became a bit of a Mexican stand-off until his Sergeant came to see what the fuss was about and waved me on. But all those instances weren’t big enough to get me down, just frustrated – but it’s all part of the journey.
I HAVE ENJOYED every moment of my trip, including the frustrations. If you are doing a trip like this you WILL have times when you feel a bit frustrated – but that’s part of the experience, isn’t it?
ITS ALL PART OF THE JOURNEY.
Each day has been an adventure for me, and a pleasure to be alive, and now the journey has finished it’s a time to rest, recoup, and save some money to prepare for my next trip. For those who have been following and putting up with my shaky pictures and endless waffle – I just want to say thank you, and I’ll be back again soon…
