2023 European trip France / Belgium / Luxembourg / Germany

[Rynglieder]

Germany is my favorite also, especially the Black Foreset region with is beutifull curves and great tarmac. Nice machine the GTR 

Yes, although I had some nice runs in France last year Germany remains my #1 choice, I think it's a cultural thing. I'm ashamed to say I've only ever passed through your country, perhaps I'll get to have another day there next year, another plan is already brewing.

My GSX has been great in the past for touring and I still enjoy a long day out on it, but for a long tour the fairing, hard luggage and shaft drive swings it for the GTR these days. I do wish it had the torque and smoothness of the GSX though, you have to wind the GTR up past 5000rpm before the fun suddenly starts and then its a case of holding tight to it and your licence.

[Rynglieder]

Awesome mate got any videos from your trip? This one needs an update:
https://gsx1400owners.org/wp/

(note video only visible from desktops and maybe tablets)

Hi Vlad,

As you know I'm using an Innovv camera set-up which captures almost everything as long as you stick a fresh memory card in each morning, so I have hours of video files to go through and edit down over the winter. I'll probably start on it when I have finished this write-up.

It took me until early this year to finish up editing last year's 20 days around France. I usually whittle down each day's riding to a video of about one hour but I really do it for my personal consumption. I'm really not sure how much interest they would be to anyone else, but I suppose if there was nothing on TV and you just wanted to watch another country pass by with a mug of tea in your hand it might entertain to a degree.

There's not much exiting riding like you get from the sports bike enthusiasts, but my videos give a flavour of the countryside, villages and cities that I have passed through.

Maybe I'll post one up on Youtube and see is there is any interest. The problem is that at one hour long Youtube's algorithms will not favour them as the younger generation they advertise to seem to have the attention span of a Mayfly.

I'm away for a week again now (in the car  ) but when I get back I'll upload the ride through the Tarn Gorge or somewhere and put the link on here for anyone who is interested.

Pete.

[GSXKING]

Pete you could probably write a book about your travels. The history you've seen is amazing.
We are very jealous from that aspect. 

[grog]

I agree. Quite amazing stuff you write about, photo etc. No way i could come close doing that stuff.   

[Rynglieder]

Day 7 Another Black Forest Loop (c.165 miles)



As I was finishing off another fine breakfast my host approached me and asked if I could pay today, presumably she was in charge of the exchequer and wasn't going to be around tomorrow. There then followed some confusion when I was presented with a bill of around €100 less than I had reserved the room at through Booking.com. She was quite adamant that this lower amount was perfectly correct and as you can imagine I was more than happy. I had intended to leave a bit of a tip as I'd been well looked after, but under the circumstances while reaching into my wallet for some folding stuff I decided to double what I had originally considered.


My route for the day started in a southerly direction, so frequently and carefully checking my mirrors to ensure I was not being tail-gated by cyclists, people in mobility scooters or sprightly pedestrians I made my way through Oberharmesrbach again. At least I did not have to follow the slow valley route this morning, I took a left turn in the town and straight up into the hills.

This still was not the fastest of rides being on an unclassified road with lots of blind bends as it wound through the forested hillsides but at least I could concentrate on the road and the views rather than my speedo. I paused briefly at the turning for the Brandenkopf which I vaguely recalled was a summit with an observation tower but as I'd only been on the road for a short while I didn't feel ready for a stop and the thought of a long uphill walk in the heat didn't excite me either.

Instead, I continued along this mountain road which seemed quite rough and narrow in parts until I descended through woods and sunlight meadows into Walke and there joined a quicker, more open road. This lead me at an enjoyable pace in a southerly direction, briefly dropping speed as I passed through Oberwolfach and then getting back on the throttle again when joining the B294 eastwards following the valley with the river Kinzing at my side until I came to Schilitach.

This little town hadn't really been in my considerations but I was about ready for a stop by now. I found a place to park and zeroed in on a coffee which I took to a riverside bench. Deep blue sky, dark green forested hills, red roofs on black and white buildings gave a colourful surround to fifteen minutes off the bike – all seemed well with the world.



Moving on from Schilitach I stayed with the B294, now heading north on a perfect fast flowing motorcycling road for around 15-20 minutes until I reached my first scheduled destination, Alpirsbach. The bike was docked on a carpark near the station and I set about a bit of a walk, firstly to a bank to top up the cash reserves and then up toward the old abbey, Kloster Alpirshach. Brewing and monasteries have existed hand in hand for over a thousand years - I suppose the brethren need a pint as much as anyone else and it gave them something to do in between the routine monking. Here there is a large commercial brewery including a museum in the shadow of the abbey, this came as no surprise as I'd consumed four bottles of the stuff already whilst staying in the area and it was pretty certain that another four bottles of their output would pass through me before I left. I moved on though the abbey gardens to take a few pictures before returning to the bike.



Onward and Northward, still taking my pleasure from the B294 I reached Loßburg where fate and "Umleitung", the Goddess of Road Closures intervened in my destiny. Now I seemed to be going unexpectedly westward but at least I was going quickly on a beautiful road, banking left and right as I flowed through the curves. I eventually pitched up on a junction with the L405 and was able to resume my journey north toward Freudensdadt. Despite being nagged by the Zumo the whole way it had been quite an enjoyable detour.

Once I'd passed through Freudensdadt I was able to link with the B294 again, once more having fun with the open road. In truth this ride along the bottom of a valley was a bit less challenging being straighter, flatter and perhaps a little busier, although that did encourage a couple of overtakes in an attempt to keep the pace up.

I rode into Calmbach and then attempted to point the bike to the west to start the top section of my loop. It wasn't that successful, I ran straight into another road closure but at least the place that I stopped to turn the bike around was outside a "bakeri", so it was coffee time again.
Back on the 294 and going a little further north than I had intended, I reached the junction with the L340 where I could finally climb back into the hills. The pleasure factor was beginning to increase again, although I noted this road also prohibits motorcycles between 22:00 and 06:00.



 I passed though Bad Herenalb and had a de ja vue moment. Many years ago I had stopped here and taken a picture of a building, but when I returned from the trip I couldn't remember the location – it had bugged me for years, finally I had chanced upon it again. It was a good ride onward but again the heat was making it a bit less comfortable than I would have liked, a tree shaded layby beckoned for another chance to dismount and have a quick smoke before continuing.

[Rynglieder]

Another very satisfactory stretch of tarmac led me to Gernsbach for another scheduled stop. This was somewhere else I had visited before, in fact an overnight stop on a previous trip to southern Europe. Last time round we had arrived late and the weather was a bit murky so I wanted this revisit to appreciate it with a bit of sun and hopefully get some better photos.



The job was done as quickly as possible, with one thing an another I was conscious that I was way behind schedule and I felt a need to press on. Bühlertal was next on the route and once more I was on a quieter rollercoaster road which I'm sure I would have enjoyed more if I was not starting to tire. Bühlertal came and went sedately by and after around 10 minutes on a very agreeable bendy road I found myself crossing the B500 as I continued east on the L83. A stretch of water came into view which I found to be the Schwarzenbachtalsperre, a good-sized reservoir with laybys scattered around the edges so this was accepted as another opportunity to get off the bike and fetch the camera out again.



Back in the saddle I continued my ride along the valley sometimes in the shade of trees and at other times in the sunlight with more open vistas until I reached the junction with the 462 where I turned south, back in the general direction of my lodgings. It was a nicely paced road in the main with a couple of restrictions as I passed through villages and before long I was picking my next parking space in Kloster Reichenbach. I took the opportunity to raid the top case for a bit more fluid and walked down to the eponymous abbey - this turned out to be a slight disappointment, having the appearance merely of an overstuffed parish church and not being particularly photogenic.

Continuing to trust in the Zumo (which seemed to be having one of its better days), I continued southwards where the day's journey was scheduled to end in around 30 miles. It wasn't to be – upon reaching Baiersbronn I found my road barred and the diversion route seemed to be throwing me back the way I had come. There then followed a lengthy run back northwards by the road I had just come down. After 20-30 minutes of riding the official diversion, I decided to pull over and throw the hotel address back into the Zumo. Whilst the diversion was clearly signposted and not unpleasant to ride it seemed sensible to assume that the local authority had probably not set up the diversion specifically for my bedroom. So, having ridden this far from Baiersbronn I thought the Zumo should have another crack at it. Needless to say, after another five minutes of mountain curves I found myself back in Klosterreichenbach. Exactly 47 minutes after I had left my previous parking spot I was back in the same place. I then did what I should have done when I first encountered the road closure and pulled out the Michelin map of the area and gave it some serious contemplation in the company of a cigarette. I reckoned that if I continued on to Baiersbronn I could strike out east to Ruhestein, I could then return south via Allerheiligen which I had visited on my first day in the forest, so I keyed in the waypoint for the waterfalls and gave the Zumo a threatening look.



It was one of those rides I would really have enjoyed if not for the frustration of going a long way out of my way and the low sun was now becoming a bit of a nuisance, but before long I reached the B500 again and more or less crossed it as I took the "slower" road south. It all worked out well enough, there was the eventual slow crawl though Oppenau followed by the now familiar ascent and decent in the dusk for my last night at the Gasthaus Zur Linde. 

I was almost devastated to find the bar closed that evening so it was a case of sitting in the garden shelter with my cigarettes and evaluating my time in the region. It had been a bit of a disappointment in some ways; road closures with long detours, restrictive speed limits in places, not being able to reach one place by motorcycle etc. That said, it was by no means dreadful and I've learned a lot from it – knowing what I now know I could easily pick out the bits of road that would allow 3-4 days of very good riding including ascending mountains on a weekday and steering as far clear as possible of Freiburg. Despite being denied access to one road, it is overall biker-friendly as evidenced by the sheer number relishing the roads on two wheels. I certainly had not fallen out of love with Germany; I still love the people, culture and varied landscapes and it will be figuring in my plans for next year's trip.

[Rynglieder]

Day 8 Oberhammersbach [D] > Kopstal [L] (c.195 miles)



My last breakfast at the Gasthaus Zur Linde (whilst as good as ever) was a bit of a sorrowful affair, after four days I was just starting to get to know my fellow inmates in the dining room and what had started on the first day as a simple "Guten Morgen" had by this time almost developed into conversations and it seemed a little sad to be leaving.

Having swilled down the last cup of tea I had to start repacking. The forecast remained for relentless sunshine so I opted to remain with the Kevlar jeans and bungee my touring trousers onto the little rack on top of the bikes rear case as they were too bulky to get inside. Despite having sluiced out a couple of tee shirs in the shower I was running low on clean ones, the four long sleeved roll necks that I favour as a base layer remained untouched. It all got crammed back on the bike again somehow and I set off for the return leg home.

It had taken three nights to reach the Black Forest but my plan for the return was just two overnight stops so the expectation was for a bit less sight-seeing and a bit more milage on motorways. There was one last ride up and over the hill between Oberhammersbach and Löcherberg, one last crawl through Oppenau and then I was back on the route that had taken me inbound. Once again having ridden through the German side of the flat Rhein plain I crossed the river into France near Gambesheim and stopped once more at the visitor car park serving the canal locks and Hydro Electric station. This time round I went and bothered the café owner for a coffee before getting stuck into France. I was out of Germany for now, but I wasn't completely done with it for this trip...

As before the run up through Hagenau was mostly flat, straight and unremarkable with a steady stream of traffic islands and the odd peasant in a tractor to steer round. At least after Hagenau the frequency of traffic islands dropped off a bit and things became a bit more rural allowing for a nice cruise in the sunshine. As I approached Woerth a roadside sign informed me that I should be carrying snow chains in winter, so it looked as if the topography was going to become more stimulating.



Sure enough, the bends and hills we back as I clipped the top right-hand corner of the North Vosges Regional Natural Reserve and there was some very appealing riding to the outskirts of Lembach where a dappled layby suggested and opportunity to replenish the nicotine in my system and check the opening times of the first attraction on the day's schedule, which I reckoned was not too far away.

[Rynglieder]

After 5-10 minutes through the forest, I was turning onto the lane leading to Fleckenstein Castle. Unfortunately, I got a bit greedy on the car park and grabbed the first spot that came into view – I hadn't realised that the car park was terraced and wound its way up the hill, if I had stuck with it a bit longer I could have parked much closer to the entrance and saved myself a bit of an uphill walk. Although there was no longer the room to stow the bike jacket away. I had at least got my cable lock with me, so I ran it though the jacket sleeve so the trek could be undertaken in short sleeves.

The trail up the hill was flanked with information boards and sculptures celebrating the area's history as a centre for charcoal burning. Unfortunately, there was so much information I passed the point of knowing everything I would ever need to, to the point of my brain overfilling and not retaining a single scrap of it. I parted with a few Euros at the ticket office and set about another five-minute walk to the castle ruins. Built on a massive rock outcrop this proved to be an unusual fortress in as much as the lower floors were tunnelled into or carved out of the rock itself leaving just the plateau of the crag with the ruins of masonry structures. There was a fair bit available to explore but as usual I rushed it as there was still a good journey ahead of me. I loitered at the summit for a while absorbing the views from the summit from where I could see the spikes of rock that struck upward from the wooded hills, one of the distinctive features of this region that I had come across before, although on the German side of the nearby border when camping near Dahn with the kids many years ago. I took the opportunity to buy a cold drink from the visitor centre and sit down for a few minutes on the way back to the bike.



A matter of minutes after leaving the castle I was riding though the German border once more at Hirschtal and once through the village was able to let the bike loose a little more with the slightly less constricting speed limits. The L487 proved a perfect motorcycling road through valley and forest and was one of the riding highlights of the trip. All good things come to an end though and near Hinterweidenthal I joined a major feeder road which eventually merged with the A8 Autobahn which would allow me to dodge the industrial and urban areas of Saarland.

After a while of this mundane ploughing along I pulled up at a layby for a break and a drink from a bottle I was carrying. It was as I dismounted and made for the top-case I realised that although my rack still had the bungee cords attached, my trousers were very much conspicuous by their absence. It dawned on me that at autobahn speeds the bike's screen was probably deflecting more air over the back than usual and presumably the wind had unpicked my gear. It was no loss in a monetary sense, I was due some new stuff and this was to e the last trip for those trousers, but I as now very much at the mercy of the weather – It had hardly rained at all in a week, I was now hoping my luck would hold out as the jeans were in no way waterproof.

I probably only had another half hour of the A8 until I exited near Maybach. There was then a short ride mostly though small towns until I rolled up at Illingen and once again located a parking spot out of the sun. I walked across a small park in the centre of town to the remains of Burg Illingen. From photographs this had looked an attractive place to stop off when I was planning the trip, but like a picture of a pretty girl in a blonde wig and padded bra, once you started to investigate it became a bit of a disappointment. There was really very little to see, a couple of pictures were taken but I had walked the perimeter in two minutes. Still, it had been as good a place as any to break the journey.



There was a bit of mixed bag of riding to follow, mostly small town and villages with a suburban feel until I reached Lebach where a handy McDonalds stood. I knew there was no restaurant at this night's hotel so it seemed sensible to do a bit of a top-up. From there it was roads of the same vein until I rejoined the A8 just north of Saarlouis. The autobahn riding was safe and steady, I kept it to around 80mph and apart from a quick fuel stop near the Luxembourg border at Schengen (who knew that was a motorway service area as well as an international treaty?) it was all motorway, around the southern edge of Luxembourg until I reached my exit for Kopstal, a small suburb to the north of the city.

My hotel was easy enough to find, being set on the crossroads in the centre of the small town. After parking the bike up, I re-read the information that the hotel had provided at the time of my booking; I had been advised that the hotel was unstaffed on the night of my stay, but an access code for the rear door had been provided and my room key was ready in a pigeonhole just inside. The room was very good although slightly noisy being set on the front above the road junction. As ever I was grateful to be showered and out of the bike clothing and I then set off on foot to find an evening drink. I was to be disappointed, there was absolutely nothing on offer within the town, just a Thai restaurant opposite the hotel at which every table on the terrace was occupied and a five-minute walk in all four directions failed to turn up a cold beer. On any other evening I'm sure I would have settled contentedly in the hotel bar, but as that was not an option tonight I had to settle for a couple of glasses of orange juice that was provided free to guests from a refrigerator on the landing. And so another alcohol-free evening lead onto a further early night, drifting off to sleep to the sound of wheelspins at the town's traffic lights.

[Rynglieder]

Day 9 Kopstal [L] > Ronq [F] (c.210 miles)



Breakfast in Kopstal was a bit of a poor affair, something had been plated up the evening before and left in the fridge overnight. I had a bit of a pick at what was there and a couple of cups of tea and was then ready to get away. At least the forecast was for a dry day, although yet again uncomfortably hot. Today's ride way to take me to within striking distance of the channel ports and much like the previous day I was expecting a period of good riding and sight-seeing sandwiched between stints on the motorways so as to cover some distance.

About 10 minutes after plucking out my trusty rag and wiping the dew of the screen, seat and camera lens I had passed through a little bit of the Luxembourg countryside and joined the A6, bound in the direction of Arlon. It was a bog-standard continental motorway ride and passed fairly rapidly by, the Belgian border with Luxembourg was passed within a matter of minutes. The first scheduled stop for the day was to be in the French town of Givet and I was slightly disconcerted by the Zumo directing me past the signposted turning. I assumed it must have some sort of plan, but with a service area coming up soon afterwards it seemed sensible to pull over, have a coffee and check the map.

Having decided to ignore the Zumo for a while I left the motorway almost as soon as I had resumed my journey, making my way though the Ardennes countryside via Houyet and around Beauraing. I was soon crossing the border into France once more and after carefully navigating the outskirts of Givet I crossed the River Meuse again, the Fort of Charlemont being very conspicuous sat atop the hill on the opposite bank.



It seemed to be prudent to follow the tourist signs for the citadel rather than the Satnav and it was easy enough to follow the route out of the town centre, winding up the hill and after being held for a short while by a traffic light system, through the narrow gate into the fort itself. The bike was secured on a quiet car park, the jacket shrugged off again and I set about trying to find out which direction I should be going in.

There were no signs directing the visitor to a ticket office and I seemed to have wandered around part of the complex unchallenged for quite a while before I decided to head back to the café I had passed near the entrance to make enquiries. A lady behind the bar explained that visitors could wander freely around the first part of the citadel but there was a charge to enter the more impressive parts further down where view of the Meuse Valley and town could be had. There was the option of buying a ticket there at the bar or from a kiosk further down.



I spent almost two hours around the Fort de Charlemont and really enjoyed the structures, exhibitions and panoramas. Once I had had my fill of walking, I headed back to the café, picked up a cold bottle to take to a shady spot and then resumed my journey. Before leaving Givet I took the trouble to find a spot by the riverside and capture a photo back toward the citadel on the opposite bank.

[Rynglieder]

Now it was time to turn north. I was so tempted to just pick up the road that follow the loops and curves of the Meuse on its west bank but I also wanted to visit the Rocher Bayard which lies on the east bank. I decided to let the Zumo chose and ended up to the east, but I'm going to make sure that I take the run along the river on some future day. Five minutes out of Givet and I was back in Belgium again, I've no complaints about the road that I took - there is no bad countryside in this region, I was simply running the ridge line of the hills amongst the wind turbines rather than the valley floor. I dropped back down to the riverside at Anseremme and the I followed the river for a short while before spotting a parking opportunity at my objective.

The Rocher Bayard is a rock outcrop along the banks of the Meuse, a tall spike of rock has cleaved the road I two with one carriageway going through the narrow gap between spike and cliff and the other side going around the spike, hugging the river.  I stopped to take a photo and being content in my surroundings decided to procure a Jupiler Zero from the adjacent café. Still feeling totally relaxed and not wanting to break the moment I demanded an encore.





I was going to have to move on sooner or later, so I weighed anchor and carried on north along the river, slowly passing through Dinant (another of my favourites) and switching to the west bank where a road that I have travelled so many times eventually brought me to the small but busy city of Namur. Now, I've probably ascended the winding cobbled roads that lead to the citadel at Namur maybe a dozen times before, but I can never resist it. On a clear day like today the prospects down to the river are worth the detour and knowing that the remainder of the day before me was going to be motorway riding, I felt entitled to another stop. Since I was last up there sever information boards have been erected telling the story of the citadel's place in history as a motocross venue between 1947 and 2007. Eventually it fell victim to health and safety / cost problems and the sport ceased – something I had never been aware of before.






Leaving the citadel and descending into the town I picked my way through the heavy traffic. Once more the Zumo had a little gift for me, directing me into a lane to turn left. It did seem to be broadly the right direction for leaving town, but just as I had committed myself, I noticed that the right -hand lane was actually signposted for the direction I wanted. Sure enough after waiting at the traffic lights for several minutes as the cycle only allowed two vehicles over at a time, I realised the other lane was swinging round 270 degrees via an underpass that allowed vehicles to make the left turn seamlessly. The Zumo with its limited intelligence had spotted and opportunity to knock 200m of my trip regardless of adding 10 minutes to my ride.

Once out of Namur I joined the motorway network and spent the remainder of the afternoon trudging along past Charleroi, Mons and Tournai. This part of the trip should have been achieved in around two hours but was probably an hour longer due to a serious accident along the motorway. I crawled along with the traffic flow, still uncomfortable with filtering on something of the bulk of the GTR. At one point a friendly native wound down his window: "English? You can ride down the middle you know; the Germans do!") To be fair I'd have probably accomplished it quite safely, the Belgians, even with their tendency to tail-gate at high speed do seem reasonably aware and considerate of bikes in congestion. After the passage of what seemed eternity, I squeezed past the squashed cars and vehicles with flashing blue lights and eventually passed once more into France, just north of Lille.

I sort of found my hotel OK on an edge of town industrial park. A "Premiere Classe" and "Kyriad" turned out to share the same carpark and inevitably in a tired state I picked the wrong reception. Once I'd actually found the right place and secured my key, I found my room to be on the second floor of a motel style building with all of the rooms off external balconies. The room was uninspiring but functional and at least I could wash off the motorway sweat and get some clean clothes on. I was now feeling much better and ready to find something to eat and drink but it turned out There was nothing on offer. An enquiry to the receptionist was met with the name of the nearest bar, but once back outside and I fed it into Google maps it turned out to be a 30-minute walk away. In desperation I tried the Total filling station but they must have just shut up shop – I could see staff restocking shelves but the doors were locked and the forecourt lights were out. The only sustenance that evening was from a couple of mugs of tea (at least there was a kettle etc. provided) and the remainder on any snacks lurking the bottom of the bike's case.

Generally, I prefer to book a hotel in a small town where there may be multiple options for an evening, I don't recall why I broke my own rule here – maybe it was a price or availability thing – but I could have done better. It is OK for somewhere to shower and sleep but if you ever decide to stay, take some sandwiches. Another chapter from the paperback and another early night ready for the push home tomorrow...

[Rynglieder]

(With apologies for the length of time it has taken to finish this off)

Day 10 Ronq > Home (c. 330 miles)



The environs of Lille-Ronq had no hold over me, so as soon as I could pick over a bit of breakfast I loaded up as quickly as possible and rolled out through the car park exit.

My crossing back over the channel was no scheduled until 14:00 so I had most of the morning at my disposal and there was one final visit in mind before leaving France. To be on the safe side I took the motorway out toward the coast thinking that I should get the bulk of the riding out of the way in case of unexpected delays. I left the A16 very close to the same junction that I would have for the ferry port, but instead followed the Zumo's directions to the town of Gravellines.

I'd noted in planning that this was another star-shaped town surrounded by moats so it was on the agenda for a good walking around for however much time I had left at hand before I needed to be at the port, only ten minutes to the north.

Gravellines was quite enjoyable for a visit of a couple of hours. I suspect it is one of those towns that my fellow Brits just speed past either on their way to the prettier bits of France or rush by to get their ferry home. It was pleasant to settle in the town square with a drink before walking out to the ramparts and following them round for about half a lap of the town. Much of my walk was alongside the water of the moats, but from time to time took me through some wooded areas which provided some shade. It was still hot even on this final day and it was looking like I was not going to miss the old Weisse biking trousers.





After a last sit-down in the square, I rode up to the port, checked in smoothly and joined my allocated queue. Only one other bike was waiting, some sort of "custom" machine ridden by a lady from the Netherlands I who I passed the waiting time with, mostly in a "who's got the sweatiest tee-shirt" contest. We were pretty much first on and after a smooth crossing first off, which was a nice change.






Back on the left-hand side of the road, I endured a 200-mile ride back along the motorways broken with two or three stops and arrived home in the late evening with no daylight left to unload the bike and get it secured in the garage.

Overall, this year's trip had been pretty good even given a couple of disappointing half day sessions where I had been hindered by speed restrictions, access restrictions or got engaged in a couple of urban areas that I came to regret. Once again it had been uncomfortably hot for the whole time, but I suppose it was better than ten days of rain, there is nothing that can be done about the weather, especially if planning in advance.

I've come away with the memories and as per usual a load of phots (if you want to see more, many are on my Flickr stream, link in my signature strip below) and am already up for the next trip. There'll be something planned out for next spring / summer, hopefully it will start to shape up properly when Christmas is out of the way. Before then I'll be spending a good few hours editing down the video files to that I can relive my journey when I'm ready.

Cheers for reading through.

Pete.