Day 32 - The Final Run Home
Wednesday 10th August 2016
DAVE'S TALE
After a leisurely breakfast and final natter with Phil I'm ready for the final leg. Phil has an appointment at the local boatyard to pick up some new batteries and I have a ticket on the Hoek van Holland to Harwich ferry, departing at 14:15.
The bridge out to the main river doesn't begin operating until 10am so that's the time we both set off in our different ways.
It is an easy journey to the port, just an hour and a half, almost all on the highway. The morning rush has died down so there isn't much traffic.
After a wait of an hour we begin loading. Bikes first for a change. There are plenty of ratchet straps and tie down points but we are left to lash our bikes down ourselves.
The crossing takes six and a half
hours so that means arrival in Harwich at 19:45 UK time. I keep my bike
gear on for the short crossing, taking just my iPad and wallet up to the
lounge.
In the cafe area I get chatting to a young lady from South Africa who is "doing Europe". She has been visiting grandparents in The Netherlands and is now on her way to explore the UK.
Her name is Andrea de Boer and we have a good natter about where to visit in Britain. Andrea is a keen cyclist and is hoping to acquire a bike and tour around the country on it. I suggest the West Country, Lake District, Yorkshire Dales (of course) or maybe the west coast of Scotland and the Hebridean Islands.
She has recently
completed a degree in Sports Psychology and has raced a cycle in student
games in the Far East (Malaysia I think she said).
I'm on the road at 8pm and try to get as many miles in as I can before full darkness falls. It is damn cold after so many days in the sun and I had forgotten how awful the road surfaces are in Britain.
So I
batter my way over the potholes and broken tarmac up the A120 and onto
the A14, past Bury St Edmunds and Cambridge to Peterborough on the A1.
I latch onto a car doing 70 mph and follow him with my head down muttering about the lousy English summer and the lousy English roads.
This keeps me happy for the final blast and at midnight I roll into my driveway and head inside for a beer. I barrelled a new ale just before leaving on this trip. It's had 6 weeks in the barrel to mature so definitely needs to be sampled. It turned out to be 7.4% ABV so my weary body got a good night's sleep after a couple of pints of that.
Tomorrow I'll catch up with Mick and Sean and learn how their trips ended. Then I'll get down to the gardening!
MICK'S TALE
And so with a heavy heart and after 3 false starts from Carole Nash we had a group hug and I got a taxi to Ajaccio airport. €30 for a 9 minute drive. I was so shocked I forgot to get a receipt for my expenses claim, but Carole Nash had failed to tell me what I could claim for anyway.
Earlier I had to explain that being on a motorbike I didn't have suitcases only panniers and I could only take one. Having dumped my tent, chair, camp bed and mattress I was totally unsure of what to expect.
Air France charged €77 and easy jet €88. My receipts were mounting up. Iin fairness to Carole Nash they phoned 3 times with updates and flight details and I was soon landing at Orly. They originally wanted me to arrange the taxi to Charles de Gaulle but I persuaded them to do it and pay. Glad I did, it was over €150. Apparently I didn't warrant a room for the night so I decided to wait in the terminal from 10pm to 10am.
Not my wisest choice. It was a restless night and I had started to doubt the wisdom of agreeing to leave my bike in Corsica to satisfy the Carole Nash bean counters. After a restless night and several encounters with scary looking tramps, it wouldn't happen in England!!!.
Finally I boarded the plane for Manchester. Passport control on landing was abysmal so I crawled out of one queue into the fast track and after a fight with several airport trollies (they used to be free but not any more) and I had neither euro or pound coin. A fellow traveller took pity on me and gave me a pound coin. Thanks to him I made the train home with 30 secs to spare.
Thankfully Bob was able to pick me up as I struggled out of the station trying to carry 2 panniers and a dry bag containing my biking gear, minus helmet which was on the back of seans bike. No trollies on Doncaster station !!.
I had spent the night worrying about Sean as he set off to ride home alone with Dave's route and advice in his Satnav. Little did I know as I arrived home on Friday afternoon that we would be reunited Saturday afternoon. Cue big man hug.
I still await payment of expenses although they have been agreed and I am still fighting for repatriation of the bike. It was an eventful trip unlike any other. Do I want to go again? Yes but not to Corsica.
Mick
SEAN'S TALE
Part 1
Got bladdered on the Nice ferry to make sure i slept gud.
I slept under my dads airbed and 2 tables in restaurant pushed together.
I woke up to the ferry rattling n clanking as it backed into the dock with everything shaking. I hought we were sinking for a sec lol.
After stumbling about in the pea-soup I managed to find my bike, got my gear on n hit the road.
Remembering what Guy Martin said that when he goes home from an international race meet that "I only stop for fuel that way you get home a day earlier" so thats what i did!!
It works Dave!
Its was flat knaker all the way, it was do or die, dog eat dog all the way, inside lane outside lane middle lane any fucking lane!!! It was hot, hard, long and exiting!! I'm alive and 700 mile nearer my bed.
Paul met me with a cold beer (probably the best beer in the world) I am now showered n getting slowly mullered watching Wigan v HFC on BBC.
(At Les Ballastieres B&B in Pas de Calais - ed)
Looking forward to a steady bimble back to Blighty.
Good night
Part 2
After a simple but welcomed breakfast n a strong coffee I said my goodbyes and left for the last part of my adventure (alone!!)
I was straight onto the tunnel. I was the last 1 on, the doors closed behind me n off we went, 35 mins later Im on English soil with mixed emotions!
But I still had a job to do so on with the rain gear (this is England you know) then straight for fuel then back onit, dodging potholes keeping out of white van mans way n weaving through the M25 hell and hoping I dont get a speeding ticket as my brain changes from Km to miles n hour one more fuel stop an sum more coffee then b4 I know it I know where I am and can stop looking at my satnav. I got to my dads at 4pm today.
42 hours to go from Corsica to Doncaster, 1300 mls and 930 of them were ridden like the ghost rider, flat out.
Big thanks to my dad for inviting me along on the adventure of a lifetime and a massive massive thanks to Dave u de man D C and without you I would probably be in china right now so thanks again Dave nuff respect,
Rodger n out xx
Aaw cheers Sean. What a ride mate! Well done, that goes down in the annals of great bike rides.
DAVE'S TALE
After a leisurely breakfast and final natter with Phil I'm ready for the final leg. Phil has an appointment at the local boatyard to pick up some new batteries and I have a ticket on the Hoek van Holland to Harwich ferry, departing at 14:15.
The bridge out to the main river doesn't begin operating until 10am so that's the time we both set off in our different ways.
It is an easy journey to the port, just an hour and a half, almost all on the highway. The morning rush has died down so there isn't much traffic.
After a wait of an hour we begin loading. Bikes first for a change. There are plenty of ratchet straps and tie down points but we are left to lash our bikes down ourselves.
 |
| On board |
In the cafe area I get chatting to a young lady from South Africa who is "doing Europe". She has been visiting grandparents in The Netherlands and is now on her way to explore the UK.
Her name is Andrea de Boer and we have a good natter about where to visit in Britain. Andrea is a keen cyclist and is hoping to acquire a bike and tour around the country on it. I suggest the West Country, Lake District, Yorkshire Dales (of course) or maybe the west coast of Scotland and the Hebridean Islands.
 |
| Miss Andrea de Boer |
I'm on the road at 8pm and try to get as many miles in as I can before full darkness falls. It is damn cold after so many days in the sun and I had forgotten how awful the road surfaces are in Britain.
 |
| Mmm...beer! |
I latch onto a car doing 70 mph and follow him with my head down muttering about the lousy English summer and the lousy English roads.
This keeps me happy for the final blast and at midnight I roll into my driveway and head inside for a beer. I barrelled a new ale just before leaving on this trip. It's had 6 weeks in the barrel to mature so definitely needs to be sampled. It turned out to be 7.4% ABV so my weary body got a good night's sleep after a couple of pints of that.
Tomorrow I'll catch up with Mick and Sean and learn how their trips ended. Then I'll get down to the gardening!
MICK'S TALE
And so with a heavy heart and after 3 false starts from Carole Nash we had a group hug and I got a taxi to Ajaccio airport. €30 for a 9 minute drive. I was so shocked I forgot to get a receipt for my expenses claim, but Carole Nash had failed to tell me what I could claim for anyway.
Earlier I had to explain that being on a motorbike I didn't have suitcases only panniers and I could only take one. Having dumped my tent, chair, camp bed and mattress I was totally unsure of what to expect.
Air France charged €77 and easy jet €88. My receipts were mounting up. Iin fairness to Carole Nash they phoned 3 times with updates and flight details and I was soon landing at Orly. They originally wanted me to arrange the taxi to Charles de Gaulle but I persuaded them to do it and pay. Glad I did, it was over €150. Apparently I didn't warrant a room for the night so I decided to wait in the terminal from 10pm to 10am.
Not my wisest choice. It was a restless night and I had started to doubt the wisdom of agreeing to leave my bike in Corsica to satisfy the Carole Nash bean counters. After a restless night and several encounters with scary looking tramps, it wouldn't happen in England!!!.
Finally I boarded the plane for Manchester. Passport control on landing was abysmal so I crawled out of one queue into the fast track and after a fight with several airport trollies (they used to be free but not any more) and I had neither euro or pound coin. A fellow traveller took pity on me and gave me a pound coin. Thanks to him I made the train home with 30 secs to spare.
Thankfully Bob was able to pick me up as I struggled out of the station trying to carry 2 panniers and a dry bag containing my biking gear, minus helmet which was on the back of seans bike. No trollies on Doncaster station !!.
I had spent the night worrying about Sean as he set off to ride home alone with Dave's route and advice in his Satnav. Little did I know as I arrived home on Friday afternoon that we would be reunited Saturday afternoon. Cue big man hug.
I still await payment of expenses although they have been agreed and I am still fighting for repatriation of the bike. It was an eventful trip unlike any other. Do I want to go again? Yes but not to Corsica.
Mick
SEAN'S TALE
Part 1
Got bladdered on the Nice ferry to make sure i slept gud.
I slept under my dads airbed and 2 tables in restaurant pushed together.
I woke up to the ferry rattling n clanking as it backed into the dock with everything shaking. I hought we were sinking for a sec lol.
After stumbling about in the pea-soup I managed to find my bike, got my gear on n hit the road.
Remembering what Guy Martin said that when he goes home from an international race meet that "I only stop for fuel that way you get home a day earlier" so thats what i did!!
It works Dave!
Its was flat knaker all the way, it was do or die, dog eat dog all the way, inside lane outside lane middle lane any fucking lane!!! It was hot, hard, long and exiting!! I'm alive and 700 mile nearer my bed.
Paul met me with a cold beer (probably the best beer in the world) I am now showered n getting slowly mullered watching Wigan v HFC on BBC.
(At Les Ballastieres B&B in Pas de Calais - ed)
Looking forward to a steady bimble back to Blighty.
Good night
Part 2
After a simple but welcomed breakfast n a strong coffee I said my goodbyes and left for the last part of my adventure (alone!!)
I was straight onto the tunnel. I was the last 1 on, the doors closed behind me n off we went, 35 mins later Im on English soil with mixed emotions!
But I still had a job to do so on with the rain gear (this is England you know) then straight for fuel then back onit, dodging potholes keeping out of white van mans way n weaving through the M25 hell and hoping I dont get a speeding ticket as my brain changes from Km to miles n hour one more fuel stop an sum more coffee then b4 I know it I know where I am and can stop looking at my satnav. I got to my dads at 4pm today.
42 hours to go from Corsica to Doncaster, 1300 mls and 930 of them were ridden like the ghost rider, flat out.
Big thanks to my dad for inviting me along on the adventure of a lifetime and a massive massive thanks to Dave u de man D C and without you I would probably be in china right now so thanks again Dave nuff respect,
Rodger n out xx
Aaw cheers Sean. What a ride mate! Well done, that goes down in the annals of great bike rides.
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