Day one
What a day of emotions. After leaving my hometown of Rochford, UK, this morning and leaving behind my wife Becky and two kids Michael and Lily for my solo three-week adventure to the Tunisian northern Sahara, I could not help but wonder if I was doing the right thing…
The trip was five years in the planning and today was the long anticipated first day. Running the bike down to Folkstone, dodging potholes and battling the British rain, my apprehension was further increased as I was the only bike in the Eurotunnel line up that was not a massive BMW tourer.
I thought of the advice my missus had previously given me, telling me that it’s all manageable if you break it down step-by-step – she runs marathons and knows how to mentally deal with this kind of thing.
Upon arrival in France, my mood immediately changed. I was riding in beautiful sunshine with the wind behind me, following gorgeous back roads between fields, up in the hills on perfect tarmac.
I arrived in Peronne in the evening having covered 190 miles and my little Beezer had happily ‘doofed’ away all day without complaint. It runs smoothly once the oil has warmed up and my ears have become tuned to all the noises it makes. I had another 200 miles planned for tomorrow.
Day two
I was up at 6.30am to check the bike over in the private courtyard where the hotel owner had kindly let me store my bike.
After an impressive breakfast, I continued heading further south east riding through the beautiful Champagne region. There are long, straight roads in this part of France that stretch for miles and it is hard not to feel tired listening to the bike chuffing away, on a dead straight road.
The BSA did 210 miles today, ending up just south of Chaumont. Switzerland tomorrow and am still processing in my mind that I am here on an 81-year-old bike. It has me in awe thinking about how many millions of revolutions that magneto is doing with the points smacking together and the huge four-ring piston moving up and down all day without complaint. The bike ran for around seven hours pretty much non-stop today, and was filling me with confidence. Fingers crossed it would continue. I could hear the Alps calling me.
Day three
Started off again early, checking the bike over.
Again heading south, south east out of Chaumont, towards Switzerland. Riding through the beautiful sleepy French villages and walled towns, passing castles that appear to be hanging off the cliffs, it was lovely. Then I came through the Swiss border and it turned from lovely to flipping stunning. The scenery completely changed, the smell in the air changed, the roads got even better and the bugs got even bigger!
I rounded a corner and ended up climbing to just over 3000ft in elevation and the BSA performed well, slow but well, without a trace of clutch
