Once more, this was done on the GTR as I have retired the GSX from touring, but I'll post it up here anyway in case it is of interest to anyone.
This year's little European excursion has just ended, all over now bar washing the bike. It was a relatively short one this year, about 1700-1800 miles over 10 days. On the whole I enjoyed it but in truth there were some disappointments that pulled down the good bits. Oh, and I lost my trousers on the Autobahn...
Once again, the GTR1400 was selected from the garage as the right bike for the job, all of the hotels were booked around a month beforehand via Booking.com. For crossing the channel, I chose the DFDS Dover-Dunkirk ferry this time round; Yes, the tunnel is theoretically quicker but the return crossing by the ferry came in at £81.00 as opposed to £130+ for the tunnel. As one of the "economically inactive" chaps living off his savings, fifty quid is fifty quid, plus quite frankly after 200 motorway miles down to Dover I'm more than happy to rest my ar$e for two hours and get something to eat and drink.
The map shows a rough overview but there were a few more twiddly bits to it than it suggests.
0.0 Overview.jpg
Day 1 Home > St-Omer (278 miles)
Map1.jpg
The motorway run was uneventful, broken into three chunks to feed my nicotine addiction and I arrived at the port well ahead of my 14:00 sailing. Motorcycles were first on and first off for this crossing and the crew took care of all of the tying down. Back in my working days I would have been up at the Crack Of Sparrows for an earlier crossing and the pushed into the continent for another couple of hundred miles, but now I'm not hemmed into the constraints of annual leave I can take a bit more time so found a budget hotel in St-Omer, just 40 miles in from the coast.
1.1 Dover.jpg
1.2 Boarding.jpg
The ride to St-Omer was off the motorways but was none the less somewhat flat straight and unexciting. I already knew that I was in for problems with the Gramin Zumo again though, I'd given up on sending any routes to it in total frustration with the Basecamp software, so I'd gone off with a printed list of addresses as waypoints with the intention of selecting them one at a time. The problem was that having got off the ferry I found France did not exist – if I wanted to chose a country beginning with F it would have to be Faroe Islands, Finland or one other that I had not heard of. Fortunately, it did seem to have some odd waypoints lodged in its memory that I had set earlier in the year so with being able to select that from "favourites" and some decent signposting, I got by.
Having arrived at a sensible time I checked into my adequate but soulless hotel on the edge of the Old Town and set about finding the cathedral and abbey ruins for my camera and a bar for two beers for the inner man.
1.3 Ibis St-Omer.jpg
1.4 St Omer abbey ruins.JPG
Never been on a channel crossing from the south coast .
Looks a great trip ive spent alot of time in belgium and bits of northen france its stunning countryside and some great roads(also some terrible surfaces in places in belgium)
Glad you had a great time
Day 2 St-Omer > Rocroi (150 miles)
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There were an awful lot of straight lines on the map again for today but I knew it was going to be more interesting. There were only about 150 miles planned as there were a couple of places I wanted to visit and the first of these was only a few minutes from the hotel. It was dry but there'd obviously been a bit of overnight rain as the bike was damp and needed a bit of a wipe over before starting out. Barely as my breakfast had settled and the oil got warm around the engine, I was arriving at La Coupole. To remind me I was back in France though they had arranged to resurface the road with the famous "Gravellons" so that last half mile was like riding on a pebble beach.
La Coupole is a WWII Nazi complex tunnelled into the hills and capped with a 71m diameter concrete dome and it was where they intended to build V1 Flying Bombs and V2 rockets for firing at London. There is a 400-metre walk through the tunnels and then a lift takes you up below the dome where an exhibition deals with the development of the bombs and rockets, the forced labour and concentration camps associated with the site and moves on to space exploration that evolved from the prototype rockets. It was a bit of a rushed visit as I was on a tight schedule for those with more time there is also a planetarium to visit. Annoyingly the sun was coming up behind the dome at the time so I haven't got a decent photo of it from my visit.
2.1 V1 at La Coupole.JPG
Back on the bike again I was off the northern French countryside without much effort going into the steering except when encountering the road closures and long diversions that the French seem to love and followed up by a couple of kilometres of slippery Gravellons. Just as I was preparing myself for a drive into Arras a couple of ruined towers unexpectedly came into view. As I drew past them, I started to look for a spot to pull up on the sunny side in the hope of catching a photo. It wasn't on the schedule but it seems that I had chanced up the remains of Mont St-Eloi abbey, a monument that had I have known was coming up could have gone and explored for nothing.
2.2 Mont Saint-Eloi.JPG
A period of straight countryside miles followed and I was finding the 50mph speed limit a bit restrictive. Nearly everything can travel that fast so there seemed to be long periods of staring at the back of the same van or truck. After my experience in Norway a few years back when going 11mph over limit cost me £500.00 I'm a bit reluctant to let the bike stetch its legs too much. Nevertheless, before long I was fighting my way through the traffic in the small city of Arras. Although I found my way to my target car park OK, it was closed along with many of the adjacent streets for some sort of event, fortunately there is nearly always somewhere you can squeeze a bike so it was locked up prior to me taking a slightly longer than intended walk into the Citadel of Arras.
Citadels just happened to become a bit of a theme of this trip. It wasn't particularly intended to be that way, but the lands bordering modern France, Belgium and Germany have long been fought over and these star forts – mostly designed by Vauban – keep coming up. The one at Arras ceased to have a military function just a few decades ago and the old barracks buildings are now residential properties and small businesses set within the preserved bastions. Interesting to look around but not a lot to entertain you. At least having visited Swiss Saxony a few years back no one can now accuse me of not knowing my Arras from my Elbe.
2.4 Citadel at Arras.JPG
2.3 Another straight road.jpg
From Arras there was another point-and-go run via a McDonalds for a late lunch before moving through Parc naturel régional de l'Avesnois which was new to me and threw up some more interesting riding. Thereafter was an almost seamless change at the Belgian border as I entered the Wallonia region. The only significant difference was that the road signs were different colours and I could go 10mph faster on non-urban roads. It's surprising what difference this extra bit of speed makes to the enjoyment of the ride. At least Belgium had not been excommunicated from my Zumo and I could now find addresses again.
A quick cigarette break in the Belgian small Belgian town of Sivry-Rance and I was then onward to a slightly longer stop at nearby Chimay. I really do enjoy being on the bike in this area, it was good to be back and poking into some little towns and villages that I had not visited before.
After Chimay it was a pleasant ride back over the French border again on some nice roads and onto the fortified town of Rocroi. Once again, I was in the middle of a star or pentagon shaped complex and quickly found the Hotel du Commerce on the town square. A quick shower, change of clothes and there was still enough of the evening left for a walk around the bastions before finding something to eat and a beer.
Not a bad day - easy milage, some curvy roads mixed in with the straight stuff, a few interesting sights captured and all rounded off with a couple of glasses of Jupiler.
And a couple of straggling pictures that would not fit on the last post...
Entering Belgium
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Chimay
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Hotel du Commerce, Rocroi
2.7 Hotel du Commerce, Rocroi.JPG
Day 3 Rocroi – Mettlach (c.130 miles) – part 1
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Over breakfast I pondered my original intention to visit the city of Luxembourg during this section of the trip. The GTR is a bit of a lump around a city centre especially when bearing 10 days' worth of laundry in various states of decomposition. I was minded to scratch it from the fixture so decided I would spend half an hour looking around Rocroi in the daylight before I left. Once I had had a stroll around some different parts of the bastions to the previous evening I fired up the bike and hit the road again.
3.1 Rocroi.JPG
It proved a really good road to ride for a tour, initially through the French Ardennes Regional Park, eventually joining the River Meuse at Deville after which it was smooth curves, loops and sunshine – exactly the sort of riding I hoped for. I know the section of the Meuse between Dinant and Namur quite well from previous trips but had never travelled this southern section. After crossing the Meuse at Monthemè a café presented itself as a good place to pull over and take a couple of photos and have a coffee.
Leaving the Meuse at Monthermè my route took me eastwards, now joining the Semois valley and I was treated to another looping riverside ride all the wall to the Belgian border near Bohan. Naturally the cruising speed rose from 50 to 60mph now it felt safer to do so.
3.5 Along the Semois Valley.jpg
I did a quick stop at Bohan-sur-Semois as I wanted to see the historic bridge. A section of railway had been built early in the 20th century eliminating a loop in the Semois by means of two bridges and a tunnel. The railway did not last long, after the outbreak of war the two river bridges were blown up and the tunnel blocked by the French army in an effort to slow the German advance – after the war it was never reconstructed. I got my souvenir photo of the truncated bridge and made may way off again for another enjoyable half hour of Ardennes riding.
3.2 Bohan.JPG
There was another brief stop on the bridge over the Semois in Bouillon. I didn't linger as I'd stayed here before some years ago and had already gathered a few pictures. It was at this point I made the decision to skip the visit to Luxembourg city so I adjusted the Zumo to allow a bit of motorway work and directed it to a waypoint on Luxemburg's eastern border.
A bit of a straight cross country run in the direction of Arlon ensued as I had expected, but I think I should have smelt a rat as I found myself going through it rather than around it on the motorway. I'd also envisaged orbiting Luxembourg and been given the slingshot around the other side by the motorway but it was looking suspiciously more central.
Eventually I realised that the Zumo was indeed taking me straight through the middle – all of the congestion and frustration I was hoping to avoid without visiting the actual place I was originally considering going. Just has I had been drawn over for a right hand turn I saw the exact spot I had wanted dead ahead. No chance of changing lanes now, so it was over the Pont Adolphe (and I wouldn't be coming back this way either as it was trams only in the opposite direction). On impulse I swung the bike for a right turn into a side street and then a left and chanced upon an empty stand of motorcycle bays. Although I had given up on Luxembourg it looks like the Zumo had not been prepared to pass it up so it was time for a five-minute walk.
Day 3 Rocroi – Mettlach (c.130 miles) – part 2
For those who don't know Luxembourg it is a lovely small city that seems to be cleaved in two by a deep valley spanned by several bridges, the valley is filled by a park giving respite from the built-up areas either side and above. The best views can be had from the Pétrusse Casemates and it was at this spot I had previously stopped off with my wife on our first ever European motorcycle trip 39 years ago. Despite the passing of time, I was pleased to find it was exactly as I remembered it, complete with kiosk for a take-away coffee while you stand at the stone balustrade taking in the view.
3.7 Luxembourg.JPG
Once my visit was complete, I found the run out of the city was not so bad as I'd feared and the roads soon opened up as I headed out toward Remich. Not as enjoyable as the river valleys of the morning, but a tolerable ride nonetheless. I'm glad the Zumo had forced my hand by its desire for a city break. The sky was looking a bit overcast ahead of me but it was also starting to get unpleasantly warm in all the bike gear, I was already looking forward to the evening's shower.
Remich lies on the Luxembourg side of the Moselle River with Germany over on the opposite bank. It seemed as good a place as any to take my next break from the bike. In truth I didn't do much exploring, just a short walk along the Moselle Esplanade to straighten out my back and then it was back on the bike to start my ride over the Moselle bridge and into a fourth country in this one day.
3.8 Into Germany.jpg
This was a pleasant ride into the Saarland and once again I was on the edge of familiar territory, this region is at the southern end of the area that I have ridden around regularly in the past when basing myself on the German Mosel and I began to pass signs for the Saar viewpoints that I had previously visited.
It was probably not much mor than half an hour since entering Germany that the bike was descending into Mettlach in the Saar valley and I was trying to locate the rather elusive driveway to my hotel for the night, the Gästehaus Schloss Saareck.
3.9 Dropping into Mettlach.jpg
At around £100 for the night, I had busted my budget a bit for this one, but it looked like a quality hotel in an interesting building and in a little town that had visited before and thought worthy of another look. Once inside I realised it may be a bit too grand for an Englishman festooned with dead insects, but the very upmarket receptionist and waiting staff in their penguin outfits made me perfectly welcome. A quick shower and a change of clothes and I was ready to go for my evening stroll. Unfortunately, it had started to rain... Not wanting to pull the bike jacket back on or ruin my hair (I simply can't do a thing with it) it looked like I was in for the night. I enquired about a beer and with a click of the manager's fingers one appeared on a silver tray and was placed on a small table at the side of a winged armchair in the reception for me. I managed to find a tree in the grounds that gave a bit of shelter for my last smoke and after reclaiming my armchair and a second beer that was the day done bar the sleeping.
Day 4 Mettlach > Oberharmersbach (c.135 miles) (part 1)
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4.1 Gasthaus Schloss Saareck.JPG
Opening the curtains at the Gästehaus Schloss Saareck revealed that the rain had not stopped and lingering over breakfast did not improve the situation. So, in a bit of light but warm rain I crossed the Saar with the idea of the Magionot Line defences planted in the Zumo's tiny mind. A first the run was comfortable enough, roughly following the Saar in a south-easterly direction but as I neared Saarlouis and Saarbrüken it all started to get a bit industrial, albeit in a tidy German sort of way.
Once again it was becoming obvious that I was to be taken through the heart of the city give or take a road closure and diversion which I steadfastly navigated through by the diversion signs rather than the Zumo's dubious suggestions.
Most of the morning's riding was unattractive, wet, at 40, 30 or 19mph and I'm pretty sure that although I was trying to be careful, I got flashed by a speed camera in a 19mph zone in the city. After an hour and a half of such progress I reached the border town of Kleinblittersdorf with France just the other side of a small river. It seemed as good a place as any to pull over at a roadside café and have a few minutes off the bike.
Ready for action again, I mounted up and crossed another border. I'd lost count by now of how many times I have flipped between countries on this trip. The roads were damp but at least it was not actually raining now as I cleared Sarreguemines. Back into the open French countryside I could legally cruise at up to 50mph again, pinching a bit here and there – a nice enough ride but I eventually ran into rain again. At least the GTR's big fairing and screen was working as it should and by mid-morning I was pulling up at the Ouvrage du Simserhof, the site of a Maginot Line fortress exhibition that I'd considered poking at like a good tourist. I'd arrived too early though and the visitor centre was not due to open for another hour and a half. I'm not sure what I could have seen by walking the marked trails, but the rain was putting me off the idea of trudging round if I was only going to find anything interesting behind locked gates, so in the end all I saw was the car park. It seemed a better idea to push on to the Citadel of Bitche which was the next intended stop, just a few minutes away and I knew via the miracle of Google it would be open.
4.2 Through the Northern Vosges.jpg
As I approached the settlement of Bitche there was no missing the citadel squatting on the hill above the town. The Zumo had a good attempt at finding its way up there but an inevitable road closure lead to a little improvisation before settling on the car park.
4.3 Into Bitche.jpg
To be continued...
Day 4 Mettlach > Oberharmersbach(continued)
I handed over a few Euros and got a ticket and English audio guide in exchange and started having a mooch around, the sun was beginning to break though now which cheered things up a bit. There was enough to interest me for an hour or so before I raided the coffee shop and got back onto the bike.
4.4 Citadel of Bitche.JPG
A ride through the North Vosges Regional Natural Reserve ride followed, now in the dry and made the more enjoyable as they seemed to have grasped the concept of bends and included one or two in the road design for the pleasure of motorcyclists.
Only a couple of smaller towns interrupted my flow until I reached the larger town of Haguenau and a conveniently placed fast food outlet allowed me to top up on calories as a precaution as I was really not sure what would be available this evening.
After busting out of the congestion of Haguenau there was a ride through the flat lands of the Rhein valley, the roads were a little busier now but the hills of the Black Forest were clearly visible on the horizon. A moment of doubt flickered through my mind as I approached the Rhein canal locks near Gambesheim as two motorcycles were hurling towards me on the same side of the road but I quickly realised they were clearing the way for a motorcade of black SUVs running in that pretentious "look at me" nose-to-tail fashion so loved by American Presidents. Pulling into the car park at the riverside I had to compete for space with Gendarmerie and half a dozen reporters packing up their gear - no idea what I had missed...I lingered for a final cigarette in France before I crossed the Rhein on the Pont du Gambesheim and once again there was a change of road sign style as I thrust into Germany.
Just as on the French side of the Rhein plain the roads were pretty open, flat and straight at first but those forested hills were getting ever closer. And once again I could ride at 60mph without looking over my shoulder. The ascent seemed to start at just beyond Oberkirch, the GTR's nose was getting a bit of an upward tilt and the roads became more sinuous and wooded.
There was 15 or 20 minutes or so of pleasant Black Forrest riding and I arrived at the Gasthaus Linde a little quicker than I expected. The reason for this became apparent as I tried to check-in with a rather confused barman who eventually spotted that I should be at the Gasthaus Zur Linde down in the next valley. Who'd have thought that there would be two so similarly named hostelries so close together? Suitably remorseful, I stuck the luggage back in the panniers and got on with it.
As it happened I was treated to a superb last few miles between my misguided stop in Löcherberg and my final destination; a road that climbed and looped up, over and down a mountain in a series of bends and hairpins before putting me at my accommodation on the edge of Oberharmersbach.
4.5 Toward Oberharmersbach.jpg
This time I had the foresight to check I was actually at the right place before dragging all of the bags off the bike. Just as well really, as it was only nearly right. My room was in a separate house across the road from the main bar and restaurant that looked as if it had been carved up into various guest rooms and self-catering apartments. It was perhaps a little dated for some tastes, but it was big enough, clean and had everything I needed. Being a little away from the main centre of evening festivities it would also be a little quieter, in fact it would do nicely for the next four nights. I pulled the bike away from the main building and locked it up on the house car park.
4.6 Gasthaus Zur Linde.jpg
I had another much-needed shower and change of clothes, spent a little time sorting through the luggage and finally strolled across the road where I was served a couple of drinks up on the patio of the main building before turning in for the night. It hadn't been a long day in terms of riding, just over 140 miles - it was a mixed bag, some really good, some unexciting but tolerable and some frustrating stuff around Saarbrücken. 7/10.
Day 5 – The Northern Black Forrest (c. 100 miles)
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The day started by wrapping myself around a very decent breakfast, made all the better that I had been able to dig out my stash of PG Tips for a decent cup of tea. The young lady organising the dining room spotted the actions of the stereotypical Brit and swiftly came up with a proper sized mug as well, as those little continental coffee cups just aren't up to the job. A bonus of being based here for four nights was that I could ditch a lot of the baggage that I had brought this far, so the bike was feeling about 20kg lighter when I finally pulled away. I really do take too much stuff with me; the problem is that if you have the space you tend to fill it. The forecast for the day was for unhindered sunshine and a bit more heat than I wanted. At least now I could pull on the Kevlar jeans and ditch the touring trousers.
At one time the road that pulled all of the bikers into the Black Forrest was the B500 Schwarzwaldhochstraße, or Black Forest High road which follows the ridge north-south through the mountains. It was famed for the scenery, the well-kept surface and flowing curves. Sadly, it seems that it has been abused over time and in recent years a 70kph speed limit has been slapped on a lot of it. I'd therefore sorted out a couple of routes in my planning that would take me on less enforced roads but dipping into the B500 for certain sections so as to take it in a bit at a time.
The journey from the Zur Linde took me north, back in the direction I had arrived by the previous evening so I once again had the pleasure of cresting the hill and dropping into the next valley on that winding road, but this time not feeling so tired and with a much more agile steed. I continued to retrace the previous days ride until I reached the small town of Oppenau where I turned north, along the high street and the out on an unclassified but very rideable road into the forest.
5.2 Out of Oppenau.jpg
There seemed to be a constant stream of motorcycles coming toward me throughout the ride, a sure sign I'd picked a decent road. Just a short while out of Oppenau I reached my first destination of the day, a car park at the start of the path to the Allerheiligen waterfalls. I took the opportunity to have a ramble along the path following the river through its gorge until I reached the foot of one of the larger falls where I lingered a while to take a few snaps. If I had been minded to, I could have followed this path all of the way to the village of Allerheiligen, but where's the fun in that on a hot day if you have fourteen hundred cubic centimetres of engine to do the work for you?
The bike was duly ridden down the hill and eventually came to anchor in the village where another short walk took me to the abbey ruins. I managed to get a bit of a view of them but it looked like a young bride and groom were taking advantage of the backdrop for their wedding photos so pushing off seemed the right thing to do.
5.3 Allerheiligen.JPG
The road continued to roll nicely around the hillsides until it eventually reached the fabled B500 at Ruhestein. My next port of call was to be Mummelsee, a lakeside resort in the mountains. I confess its sudden manifestation took me my surprise, traditionally I have found rivers and lakes at the bottom of hills, so I wasn't quite ready when it sprang out at me after a long uphill climb and I overshot the car park entrance necessitating a rather inelegant U-Turn. At the second time of asking I did manage to catch the car park entrance and just abut found a place big enough to leave the bike.
Mummelsee is an attractive enough place and as I walked in front of the lakeside hotel, I found myself envious of those sat at tables with a nice cool beer. A bit of queuing at the Imbiss window led to a brief negotiation and me coming away with an alcohol-free beer in exchange for a few euros. I sat in the sun for a short while with my beer and a smoke until I was ready to move on again.
5.4 Mummelsee.JPG
The next target I had locked onto was the small city of Baden-Baden, somewhere I had briefly passed through before and felt was worthy of another look. There was a relaxing 70kph bimble along the speed-camera infested B500, no one seems to misbehave or overtake, so you get used to looking at the blunt end of the same car or van for long periods, you need to accept this if you are going to get any enjoyment out of the run. Eventually I edged into the suburbs and due to a lapse of concentration found myself in a road tunnel going right underneath the city centre. Another 180-degree manoeuvre brought me back into the city centre and as luck would have it an empty motorcycle bay swam into view. I wasn't sure where I was in relation to the beating heart of the metropolis but a quick consultation with Google maps suggested that I was in fact only a few minutes' walk from the centre.
Whereas Luxembourg was exactly as I remembered it from a visit back in the days when I had more hair, Baden-Baden did not seem at all familiar even though I had passed through before. My walk from the bike took me alongside the river at the edge of the Kurpark, across the front of the Trinkhall and then deeper into the Kurpark. Baden-Baden is an old spa resort and in the early 20th century was the place to be for the gentry in a similar way to the French Rivera. It hasn't really shaken this off, the tourists I was rubbing shoulders with all seemed very affluent and the shopping streets were lined with the stores of the usual designer brands. I stopped to get a coffee in one of the quieter streets and watched the Bright Young Things go by for a while, but it was not really my thing so I found my way back to the bike ready to search out some landscape or history.
5.5 Baden-Baden Trinkhalle.JPG
Like some sort of overweight mole, the GTR tunnelled its way back out of the city centre. This time I left on a more minor road which wound up into the hills alternating between sunlight vistas and shady forests until I emerged in Forsbach. From there it was back onto the wider faster flowing roads for a southward ride in the direction of Freudenstadt. The B462 also has several sections limited to 70kph, but there was the odd stretch where you could get a bit of a squirt of the throttle for an overtake and look at the back of something else for a change.
5.6 Toward Forbach.jpg
There was a very pleasant ride down to Freudenstadt followed by a pedestrian-paced penetration of the city centre under its 30kph limits and then out on the B28 at a much more agreeable velocity for another stint on proper biker's roads. A fuel stop was required at Knibes, I found myself surprised at how few times I'd had to fill up on this trip, I suppose the low speed limits I'd been encountering will have been a factor but the GTR seemed to be very frugal.
5.7 Toward Freudenstadt.jpg
There was a burning need to pull up soon after to take in the cold drink I'd bought from the petrol station and have a cigarette break. (They still don't like you doing that on the fuel station forecourt you know). I found a layby alongside a woodland hiking trail which did very nicely for the stop.
Onto the final leg of my return loop, I continued with the B28, B500 and L92 now travelling west and the route becoming curvier and more entertaining as I took the rollercoaster ride around the hillsides and back down into Oppenau where I had passed through on my way out that morning.
5.8 Back toward Oppenau.jpg
Before long I was doing my new favourite commute over the hills and down to my hotel where I arrived in plenty of time to get freshened up before heading up to the restaurant where I had a table booked and a steak demanding my attentions. Having seen that off I finished with a couple of Alpirsbacher Klosterbrau beers and then ambled back across the road for an early night.
There had not been much riding today, at about 100 miles it was probably not much more than an afternoon out back at home, but I'd caught a lot of sights and there's nothing better than a motorcycle to link them together.
Day 6 – The Southern Black Forrest (C.135 miles)
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I was welcomed into the breakfast room and directed to a table with my own Special Needs mug and my own flask of boiling water – they were getting to know me... back in my room I inserted the aging bod into the Kevlar jeans and boots again as yet another hot day with unbroken sunshine was forecast.
The plan for today was to loop around the southern part of the Black Forest and take in a few places I hadn't visited before. It started very slowly; leaving the hotel in this direction took me through a string of villages mostly under the thumb of the annoyingly restrictive 30kph / 19mph limits. There followed an uninspiring run on a more major road along the valley floor, eventually on impulse I turned off into the small town of Wladkirch where the bike was abandoned by the railway station and I set off on foot into the town in search of a coffee. I found a quiet place to sit and take a leisurely slurp while looking back at the castle on the hill above the town.
6.1 Waldkirch.JPG
Having extricated myself from the embrace of sunny Waldkirch I pointed the bike at the signs for Freiburg and set about slaughtering more insects with the GTR's screen. It seemed a bit of a convoluted route that took me into Freiburg, I honestly can't recall if that was down to a diversion or the Zumo playing tricks on me again, but I seemed to hop from one speed restricted village to another along the valley floor. Needless to say, Freiburg city centre was even worse with tram lines thrown in to make sure that you are concentrating on where to place the front tyre.
6.2 Freiburg.jpg
A road closure in the city centre on the road I wanted to leave by threw me of course and into a world of congestion, but flicking though various back streets I eventually found myself going out on the road to Schauinsland which was my next intended destination. Even as I broke free of the suburbs the tram tracks persisted along the road but eventually I was in the countryside once more and feeling that I was starting to make progress.
As I started to climb from the valley floor toward the mountain resort of Schauinsland I found myself confronted with a "no motorcycles" road sign. I pulled over so that I could carefully read the smaller sign below it as my German is not that quick. I knew enough to learn that motorcycles were prohibited from the mountain road on weekends and bank holidays during the summer months so I was forced into a U-Turn. Back-tacking a short distance, I took a turning for Horben that I had passed moments before and decided to go exploring. I reached Horben and passed straight through - sleepy village did not begin to cover it - it looked like it was in a coma. More frustration followed as when passing the village's outer limits, I found that the road ahead was prohibited to all vehicles. Returning to the small car park in the village I dragged out the map and quickly realised my journey was at a dead end, there was no alternative but to go back into Freiburg and crawl round in the congestion again.
6.3 ACCESS DENIED.jpg
Perhaps it didn't seem so bad the second time around as I could at least avoid the old town as I picked out the road for Titisee. It hadn't been in the plan for today, but I'd been there before and in the absence of any other idea it would do. A couple of tunnels brough me out onto the B31 where I let off steam by using every one of the 130kph allowed on the dual carriageway, it was good to get moving again after spending the last hour crawling round on the road to nowhere. After a while the road began to rise into the mountains again with a series of hairpins and crawler lanes and my ride started to feel a lot better.
6.4 Back into Freiburg.jpg
Arriving in Titisee I soon picked up the signs for the motorcycle park that I remembered from my last visit. The barrier arms to the public car park are left purposely short so that bikes can squeeze through and there is a dedicated parking area complete with lockers and changing rooms to stow your gear. At least I was starting to feel the love again. There was ample room on the GTR to tuck away my own gear today so I did so and set about the walk down to the lakeside.
6.5 Bike Friendly.JPG
I promenaded myself along the lakeside amongst the hordes of weekend tourists for a short while, but being clad in jeans and bike boots I felt as appropriately dressed as I would be in a Santa suit given the weather. I took time to get hold of a chicken burger and a cold drink and find a shady spot to reflect on what had been a disappointing and frustrating day thus far.
6.6 Tittisee Lake.JPG
No queueing up to pay at the exit barrier for me, I was through the gap like a rat up a drainpipe and back on the road again, hoping for a better afternoon's riding. Initially I rode toward Tittisee-Neustadt, but before getting involved in another town took the road along the bottom of the Jostal which did indeed prove to be a fast and free-flowing ride, eventually joining the fabled B500 where I turned toward Furtwangen.
Despite what I had read this section of the road was not entirely restricted to 70kph, only the more hazardous sections seem to be controlled and as I had hoped my enjoyment continued, with a steady stream of other bikes passing me in the opposite direction. Furtwangen was passed through with nothing more than a cursory glance as I pushed on toward Triberg.
I was still sticking with the B500 until a road closure pushed me up toward the village of Schonach but it was a short and quite agreeable detour into Triberg where I was set upon by a flock of motorcycle parking signs. Taking P2, at random I found myself entering a rooftop car park where the sole bike was just leaving so I had the place to myself. I think I found three dedicated motorcycle parks that I could have chosen from, but where the GTR had been berthed was fine for a walk alongside the river that flowed through this attractive town with its half-timbered buildings. There was no doubt that I was in Cuckoo-Clock country, they seemed to little else to buy on the main street.
6.8 Triberg.JPG
After a quick slug from the bottle in my top-case I rode out on the final leg of the day's ride. There was the odd slow bit but in the main it was a good if not spectacular ride along the B33 to Hausach before swinging onto the B294 as far as the turn off for the Hammersbach Valley. As it was that morning, this was a slow final run back to my quarters at Oberhammersbach but it had been a long day and I was happy to "cruise" for a bit.
After washing away the day's excesses in the shower there was time for a couple of beers on the terrace before a relatively early night in the company of my book and a bit of music stored on the phone. It hadn't been a great morning but the afternoon had compensated a bit.
Germany is my favorite also, especially the Black Foreset region with is beutifull curves and great tarmac. Nice machine the GTR :smitten:
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)
Quote from: BbigMmac on Friday, 27 October 2023, 04:31 AMGermany is my favorite also, especially the Black Foreset region with is beutifull curves and great tarmac. Nice machine the GTR :smitten:
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.
Quote from: VladTepes on Friday, 27 October 2023, 03:36 PMAwesome 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 :embarrassed: ) 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.
Pete you could probably write a book about your travels. The history you've seen is amazing.
We are very jealous from that aspect. :cheers:
I agree. Quite amazing stuff you write about, photo etc. No way i could come close doing that stuff. :clapping: :clapping:
Day 7 Another Black Forest Loop (c.165 miles)
7.0 Map7.jpg
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.
7.1 Schilitach.JPG
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.
7.3 Kloster Alpirsbach.jpg
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.
7.4 Bad Herenalb.jpg
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.
7.5 A shady layby.JPG
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.
7.6 Gernsbach.JPG
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.
7.7 Lakeside stop.JPG
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.
7.9 Back toward Allerheiligen.jpg
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.
Day 8 Oberhammersbach [D] > Kopstal [L] (c.195 miles)
8.0 map.jpg
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.
8.2 Hills ahead.jpg
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.
8.3 Through Lembach.jpg
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.
8.4 Fleckenstein Castle.JPG
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.
8.5 Burg Illingen.JPG
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.
Day 9 Kopstal [L] > Ronq [F] (c.210 miles)
9.0 Map 9.jpg
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.
9.2 Givet - Meuse bridge.jpg
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.
9.1 Givet from the citadel.JPG
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.
9.3 Givet citadel.JPG
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.
9.4 Rocher Bayard.jpg
9.5 Jupiler Zero.jpg
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.
9.6 GTR, Namur.JPG
9.7 The citadel, Namur.JPG
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...
(With apologies for the length of time it has taken to finish this off)
Day 10 Ronq > Home (c. 330 miles)
10.1 Map10.jpg
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.
10.2 Gravellines.JPG
10.3 Gravellines.JPG
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.
10.6 Boarding at Dunkirk.jpg
10.7 Leaving France.jpg
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.