The United Kingdom
I
need to backtrack a bit here. We left Amsterdam because
of the expense, the hassle with hotels and neither Janet
nor I had the energy to fight one more city so we headed
to Dunkirk to catch the ferry to Dover. The truth is
that both Janet and I are getting tired. We have been
on the road for nine months and it is starting to show.
Even though we have lived in China for five years, the
last nine months of not being able to read signs, talk
with any of the locals, trying to figure out what’s on
the news has been a killer.
We
bought the tickets for the ferry to England and were
really surprised when a man told us to drive the bike on
in clear, understandable English. Somehow this was an
unexpected surprise. But more surprisingly was the fact
that this ship was an English ship with English food,
English beer, English speaking crew and English signs.
I guess the fact that that we weren’t expecting so much
English until we got to Dover made the transition that
much more shocking. It was reverse culture shock!
We
ate, read and generally relaxed on this trip and within
a couple of hours we could see the misty cliffs of
Dover. Within minutes we were off the ferry and on our
way on THE WRONG SIDE OF THE STREET. I would have to be
careful. I have driven in a couple of countries where
they drive on the left and there are those momentary
lapses where I am thinking about something (like the
directions to get someplace) and the habit of driving on
the right just takes over. Here it can be deadly.
Wales
 Janet
wanted to see Wales so we just followed the signs. What
a delight! The weather was terrific, and the softly
rolling hills covered in yellow mustard plants made for
an excellent ride. We really had no destination in mind
and for maybe the first time in nine months we were just
riding for the pure pleasure of feeling the sun and
wind. No hurry, no worry except staying on the left
side of the road.
It
was Sunday and all the pubs were advertising traditional
Sunday Roast. This is a very traditional meal of roast
beef, pork and turkey with Yorkshire pudding, potatoes
and veggies. In fact this is the meal that I cooked in
China for our teachers at Christmas. It is also a meal
that I haven’t had in England for almost fifteen years
and when it was time to eat we found a small pub and
pulled in.
The
Salutation pub, like so many here is relatively small
and intimate. The owners,
Sue, and Kel and
staff were terrific and the meal was awesome. Roast
beef, pork and turkey served  with
Yorkshire pudding and family style servings of potatoes,
cauliflower in a cheese sauce, carrots and a huge boat
of gravy. The best part was that it tasted better than
it looked and it looked wonderful.
We
talked about their pub and our trip. We talked about
the weather and the magnificent
Pontargothi
valley where the
Salutation pub is located. What a great way to spend a
couple of hours on an unhurried Sunday afternoon. But
we had to move on.
By
late afternoon we were ready to stop and found a sign
pointing to three B&Bs. Down a small road that lead
through the village of Howey. At a fork, we could see
two of the B&Bs and preceded until we arrived at 3 Wells
Farm owned and operated by David and Lynn Cole. This
was an old working farm at one point but the best part
was the spring that fed a delightful pond set with a
backdrop of emerald green fields where the sheep graze
and a tree line fed by water from the same spring.
 Resident
in the pond were two pair of Mallard ducks, both with
new ducklings, one pair of geese with goslings and a
pair of swans with the female sitting on five eggs.
Janet went nuts over the babies. Had it not been for
the digital camera, our film cost would have bankrupted
us.
A
large percentage of the spring water is diverted, part
is piped underground for several hundred meters to feed
a stream on the other side of the pasture and some is
diverted to the small local water company—3 Wells Water
Co. Great water, good people and an outstanding
location. A great place to stop for a couple of days.
 I
had sent emails to the two guys we had met in Bodrum,
Turkey in hopes that we could meet in Liverpool as
planned but we got no answer. What a disappointment.
Janet and I decided to head to the Isle of Man to try to
find George MacDonald Fraser, the author of the Flashman
series. But again, no luck with this quest but we did
luck out in finding the Norley House
B&B where the owners, Adrian and Maxine, are avid
bikers. Of course the Isle of Man is famous for the TT
road race on nearly 38 miles of public road. Recognized
as one of the premier events in the world of
motorcycling, tens of thousands of loyal fans make the
annual pilgrimage to the Road Racing Capital of the
World!
I
asked Adrian where I could get a tee shirt and was given
directions. Then Adrian asked where he could get a
Sturgis shirt. We decided to swap. Later that
afternoon my tee shirt arrived. How’s that for trust.
Once we get to Sturgis, I will send him his Sturgis
shirt.
We
had to move on and I went to the ferry to find out when
we could get to Dublin—May 24 was the first date, almost
three weeks. But there was a ferry to Belfast the
following day. Passage was booked and we prepared to
leave.
 Beyond
Belfast lay Scotland and we really wanted to spend time
there.
It
is difficult to try to explain to non riders and many
riders alike, the allure of long distance motorcycle
travel. So often we are asked, “Why don’t you travel in
a car or an RV”? I thought I knew the experience after
having ridden through the American west for several two
week trips but the simple fact is that only now, after
months and months on the road, am I finally starting to
really understand it.
Riding on a motorcycle is visceral. On a bike you
experience everything: the heat and cold, the rain and
humidity, gentle breezes and howling winds, the dryness
of the desert, the smell of crops growing in the fields
and freshly cut grass, manure and flowers. One becomes
more intimately aware of the road; hills, turns, bumps
and potholes. The immediate environment takes on a new
reality, a continually changing perspective. Everything
becomes more real. You can almost taste the difference
between one country and one culture from the last. You
are exposed to all of this and more, all at the same
time which makes for a more complete experience.
This
understanding matured in me as we drove through the
Scottish Highlands. Vast spaces filled with mountains,
streams, broad vistas and incredible roads. Sure, it
was fun to pass Loch Ness and joke with Janet about
trying to create a silly video about discovering Nessie
but the epiphany of what drives me to ride was
significant because I had been trying to elucidate this
thought into a statement that others could understand.
Maybe others will never understand why I ride but at
least I had a better idea that satisfies me.
 We
rode to Inverness and then south to Balmoral, the summer
home of Queen Elizabeth. Janet went into the castle
while I stayed with the bike. Jay said I was really
crazy when I stayed with the bike in Rome while Janet
toured St. Peter’s and I could hear him saying I was
crazy again but I have absolutely no interest is seeing
some of these attractions. However, I did want to see
Roslyn Chapel. I guess I will have burned some brain
cells and try to figure out why some less significant
things interest me while other, more famous sites hold
no interest at all.
Roslyn Chapel, or the Collegiate Chapel of St Matthew as
it was to have been, was founded in 1446 by Sir William
St Clair, third and last St Clair Prince of Orkney. It
is in fact only part of the choir of what was intended
to be a larger cruciform building with a tower at its
centre. Roslyn Chapel became a prominent tourist
attraction with the publication of the DaVinci Code as
one of the hiding places of the Holy Grail.
It
would be impossible to adequately describe this unique
church. Suffice it to say that it may be one of the
architectural wonders of the United Kingdom and would be
worth a visit to the internet to gain a reasonable
perspective of its significance.
Our
time in Europe was drawing to an end. It was time to
head to London to ship the bike to Canada and officially
end our second leg of the Dragin’ Run.
With
the GPS working we found the hotel at Gatwick and the
cargo terminal, made arrangements to separate the
sidecar from the bike so both could go through the X-ray
machine and within a day we were North America bound.
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