We left the Chateau and were straight onto the wonderful back roads of Brittany in glorious morning sunshine.
As we clocked up trip mile two thousand it seemed a good idea to stop and record the moment with a photograph.
I made a point of sticking to the minor roads, save for a last glorious sprint from Morlaix to Roscoff, where I must admit I really let Harley have her head! The staccato music of her exhaust ripping the Breton air brought a massive smile to my face, but didn’t do much for my tinnitus!
We arrived back in Plymouth bang on eight pm last night after a pleasant crossing.
By the time I kicked down Harley’s side stand in my workshop we had covered 2152 miles, or 3463 kilometres, and topped 34 passes including the highest in Europe.
I stood next to her as she cooled down, ticking in the gentle metallic way that air-cooled machines do. I think we both felt very contented with a job well done and could now relax. That’s the thing about motorbikes, you can only really relax once it’s over…
I suppose I’d better give her a wash now!
“Freedom is a dusty road leading to a highway…”