OK, this is the time line….I got back from France late Wednesday…slept a fair bit of Thursday, popped into the office on Friday…then yesterday, Saturday, it was Chapter Dealership Day at Plymouth Harley Davidson….

Guess what? I was there, so was Harley, we both looked a bit grubby, but hell we were both back from over 2000 miles of fun!

It was really great to see so many Chapter friends, catch up on who had been where and with who and just generally chew the Harley fat!

Our local needle lady, Dawn, was also on hand sewing patches as requested. I had five from our travels, so it was a good opportunity to get them onto my vest. I must admit that my vest is more like a travel map of the European Alps than a full-blown biker “cut” but who cares, it my record of where I’ve been.Yesterday was not the greatest, weather wise anyway, we got caught in a couple of real downpours, but it still didn’t take the smile off my face as I rode back to Dookes H.Q. and racked up yet more miles on my wonderful bike!

Today it was time to give Harley that long overdue wash and polish!

I think she scrubbed up pretty well!

Catch you all soon.

“We’re riding out tonight to case the promised land.”

Dookes

PS Don’t forget that if you click on the photos you can see them full size!

Taking on fuel near Carhaix, I had to smile when this little beauty trundled in, it’s pea-shooter exhaust pipe burbling contentedly.

A couple of days ago I had written about how Citroën 2CV’s are often cherished classics these days…..et voilà! What a little gem! I really can’t believe I’m get so nostalgic over a bloomin’ 2CV, ah well, c’est la vie!

On a much more classic level however is this wonderful Austin Healey caught on Col du Galibier last Saturday.As you can see, it’s straight six, three litre engine really didn’t like the altitude and promptly boiled at the Col. I caught up with it later at Col du Lautaret and chatted with the owner, a pleasant chap from Vannes, who told me that all was well once they had returned to thicker air! 

Cars don’t normally do it for me, but in the case of these two classics and for very different reasons I am prepared to make an exception!

Dookes

kkkk

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!

…and then we were on the ferry, watching as it pulled away from the jetty.

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…”

Dookes

It truly is a beautiful day here in Britanny.

Harley and I have just over a hundred miles to ride to Roscoff and the ferry back to Plymouth and I intend to savour every moment if it! Beyond that there’s not much more to say. Once I’m back ill post some  details of mileage, number of passes etc.

For now, this is the front of the Chateau with the morning sun on it. My room front left with the window open!

Thank you all for riding along with us and thank you for the comments and emails, it’s good to know that you enjoy this little Blog of mine!

…and the future, well let’s just say that discussions have yet to begin! Also I haven’t really got anything much in mind, not that I’m going to admit anyway! Always open to sensible suggestions…., but that song, how does it go?

“This land was made for you and me……”

Pût être!

Dookes

‘Fraid I’ve gotta report that the dirty work continues…..

After a pretty reasonably hard day in the saddle, only 290 miles though, I just had to go check out the facilities at the latest hôtel.

Regretfully not as big as previous pools, but most acceptable after un jour a monté ma moto!

…oh yes i nearly forgot, air temperature at 17:30hrs was a mere thirty degrees Celcius! Life can be a b+++h!

As this is the last night of this trip and tradition is that we push the boat out a little on the last night, voici l’hôtel! Un petit château Bretagne!

The Dookes suite is on the second flood of the west wing, so it’s the open window at the top right. This is the back of the château, the view from the front window is this.

…and this.

Easy on the eye, eh?

With today’s mileage we are now just four miles short of two thousand since rolling of the ferry in Santander…and that seems a lifetime away! It’s sometimes hard for me to put trips into context whilst I am away, I need to sit down in the quiet, without the tinnitus singing in my ears and take it all in again. Sometimes I think what I ask that Harley of mine to do is bordering on the cruel, but she does it nonetheless. Looking back we have cruised Autoroutes, braved gravel roads in a desert, tackled sleet and snow in the Pyrenees, scraped pipes and gearbox on hairpins everywhere and crested the highest pass in the Alps! Not bad for a carburettor fitted bike that owes more of its design to the 1920’s than the 2000’s and a pilot that is definitely past his best!

And now I am doing what I enjoy, almost more than anything on my travels, sitting in the corner of a restaurant enjoying wonderful food and people watching. There is a noisy group of Belgian bankers on a golfing holiday, they were passing round the schnapps and now are boisterously happy, but their entrée has just arrived and they go quiet whilst they eat. To do anything else would insult the chef, and the food is too good! I am enjoying liver on crepes with a marmalade of onions de Roscoff. This is Britanny after all!

Across the room two elderly couples occupy a table, the men talk together as do the women, comfortable in their mutual presence but largely ignoring their spouses of goodness knows how many years. They order two bottles of wine and one of water, the men drink the wine and pass the water to their wives!

I finish my starter and after due polite pause waitress Ani collects my plate. “C’est bon?” “Oui, très, très bon!” In fact it was bloody great!

The bored couple on the adjacent table ask to sit outside, the Belgians are getting too noisy! I can’t understand why they need to move. He looks like Maurino, the Chelsea manager and sits reading a sailing magazine. She just stares vacantly at the ceiling, she looked ok by the pool, but seems to have chosen to wear old curtains to dinner….

My Magret du Canard arrives, first the duck breast still cooking on a hot stone over a spirit burner is delivered by Head Waitress Marie. Next le plat, dressed with sautée potatoes, lightly fried girolles and bâtonnets of yellow and green courgettes with carrot. I leave the duck breast to cook for a few minutes longer, turning it halfway. I like it rare but this might still have a pulse! Then I begin to enjoy….

This is seriously good food! The waitresses do not fuss around, but leave you to enjoy the food…they know it’s bloody good so why bother asking mere customers! The Belgians chatter excitedly, their guttural language making the waitresses giggle and the rest of the restaurant exasperated. Hell, this duck is fantastic and I’m not going to rush!

The head Belgian proposes a toast, the others all ignore him and keep talking and eating! Ani walks by and clocks that I have only one mouthful of wonderful duck left. All too soon it’s gone and Ani arrives to collect my empty plate and the cooking stone. “C’est bien aussi?” “Non, c’est ne pas bien, c’est le mieux!” No, it wasn’t just good, it was the best! And that’s true, I’ve eaten that dish all over France, even in its spiritual home of Mamande and trust me that was the best by a country mile, or kilometre as we are in France.

Désert is a lovely Bretagne Tarte Aux Pommes Fines, with a small scoop of liquorice ice cream.

The Belgians are now getting excited and declare that they will win the World Cup, oh Lordy here we go! Time to have coffee on the terrace and as special treat un petit Calvados…I’m gonna regret this in the morning, but hell we don’t celebrate riding 2000 miles every day!

The two elderly French couples join me outside and we talk of football and rugby. They know all about my Harley and I, seems that in the hotel we have become minor celebrities. Marie pops outside to check all is ok, I think she just wants to go home, but she insists on looking at some of my photos from the Alps.

Everyone drifts away, the Belgian noise drops to a murmur and I am left alone with just the sound of a thousand crickets chirping away. The warm evening is lulling me towards bed, or is it the calvados?

All I know is that I am, as les Français say, “Très Heureaux”, very happy. I am in a country that I really love, amongst people that I really like. All that is missing is Mrs Dookes, and she gave me permission to do it! “Merci beaucoup, mon amour, je t’aime!”

Let’s you and I go do one little bit more tomorrow, before we catch the ferry, it’ll be cool.

“So put me on a highway and show me a sign and take it to the limit, one more time…”

Dookes

“….one more time!”

Now it’s very hot again!

Well, 29 degrees is hot enough in black bike leathers!

Had a nice cruise from Vierzon to Chateaubriant, now we are officially in Brittany, just. Most of the way we have been on the Péage, which was delightfully empty, is super smooth and as nice a motorway as you can ever expect.

Before we left the ‘normal’ roads we passed through about 15 miles of delightful countryside and stereotypical French villages and I got me thinking. I mused how France is changing, not by much but a change is definitely occurring. I suppose that it’s just natural evolution, but these days perhaps it globalisation and a sign how the world is shrinking. Bearing in mind that over 90% of Les Français now live in towns and cities the swing is inevitable.

Some of the places that I venture to are still home to the group of old men who play boules in the centre of the village at the same time every week. The old women are still there sitting in doorways watching the world pass by their gaze and occasionally you’ll still see a labouring Citroën Deux Cheveux being used for goodness knows what sort of load carrying! But these sights are getting as rare as a wiff of Disque Blue cigarettes and the 2 CV these days is more likely to be a treasured classic only taken out on very special occasions!

That old France, if you like the stereotype, does still exist, you have to know where and how to look for it and like I said it is evolving.

The French are still a nation of values, family is still the most important thing and work is not to be the most defining thing in people’s lives. Sunday shopping is still very rare in France, not because the French don’t want it, more they don’t feel that they need it and identifying that is quite defining and what’s makes us Brits so different from our French cousins! You see the French view is that they don’t want to work on a Sunday, so why should anyone else have to just to pander to someone else’s whim to go shopping…there are after all six other days in the week!

Likewise, our French cousins take a two hour lunch break and so do the shops, same principle as Sunday my friends, the shops and most offices are however, often open to seven pm!

It’s also apparent in French politics, the people let the politicians have their head and then once they are fed up with them it’s death by ballot box, true democracy, none of your petty name calling like at Westminster!

Which makes me ponder further about the British relationship with Europe in general, would the British people really be worse off living life a bit more like our Continental cousins? Or is it that our political and economic powers are afraid of a six day week, real lunch breaks and a more laid back lifestyle…cos the people with the most money would end up making a bit less out of the labours of others?

Only this week has the Frence Government been forced to drop the idea of an Ecotax system using cameras to record vehicle license numbers on the motorways, the People simply set fire to the very expensive camera systems and good for them!

Now you see what France does, subtly it turns you socialist and in the best possible taste as well! As my French friends say “Plus ça change!”

Now back to the biking. Just had lunch in Chateaubriant which is a bustling town that I came through by accident some time back and now can hardly keep away from! This is the Chateau.

“Gotta ride, gotta run, gotta race from the devils gun!”

Dookes

The weather is nice again! It’s a really lovely morning here in the Berry Province of Mid-France.

I am currently enjoying a sumptuous petit dejurner at the chambres d’hôte. There are six different home made confitures, that Madame insists I try. Fresh crêpes, gâteau chocolat, melon, du pain, cheese, ham and of course croissants. All with bucket loads of strong coffee, excellent!…what is there not to like about this wonderful country and it’s people?

The view out of the window is not as spectacular as previous mornings, but it is very easy on the eye, and sunny!

We’ve got a fair distance to cover today, about 280 miles, to our Chateau in the heart of Britanny. So I’d better get on and tackle this petit dej, pack Harley and hit the road!

“Come on with me, tramps like us baby we were born to run!”

Dookes