NORDKAPP THE LONG WAY UP

We had it planned for about six months. I was in charge of maps, Robin was in charge of speed, Teng would meet us halfway, and Carl would make sure his relatives in Sweden would put us up as we passed through. Our Nordkapp trip was go!

Then Robin decided to have a wedding. Teng couldn’t find time away from urgent bread-making duties, and Carl was offered a job in Houston. The trip was hanging by a thread, but the urge was strong; I had the Tuono serviced by the team at Essex Performance in Basildon and set off. It was July 6, almost midsummer and great weather was predicted.

I sailed jauntily across the Channel and enjoyed about half-an-hour of summer before the monsoon hit. Trucks were blown off the motorway on to their sides, fog and pelting rain made visor-down riding impossible, and my riding gear turned into dishrags. I limped into Amsterdam, narrowly avoiding what seemed like millions of bicycles and cars, and hung out my stuff to dry. Two days later it was merely damp.