Best laid plans...

"No plan survives first contact with the enemy" - Helmuth von Moltke, Prussian General

As is always the way with this sort of thing, things never quite go the way you first envisaged them. Once on a trip I usually try my best to just go with the flow and see where I end up, these unforeseen interjections often end up being the highlight of a trip and are what the spirit of adventure is all about after all.

However with a big trip like this a vague plan is required in order to facilitate things such as vaccinations, visas etc. People will no doubt want to know trivial details like "Which countries are you going to" and "What date are you leaving". So I made a big list of countries, including roughly how long I would be staying in each one and set a target departure date of September 2019. Simple right?

Of course it's never really that simple. As mentioned previously here, my original route has changed due to visa issues forcing me further North than planned. The fallout from this is that I would be crossing the mountainous regions of Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan in December. A bit chilly you'd think, but nothing to worry about....

"In December, weather conditions in Kyrgyzstan make it a relatively bad trip destination." - thebesttimetovisit.com

"In Rangkul, located in the east at 3,800 meters (12,500 ft) above sea level, winter is long and freezing, with a January average of -16 °C (3 °F)." - climatestotravel.com

In fact many of the mountain passes are blocked with snow leaving them completely impassable with some even being closed during the winter months.

Given this information and after much deliberation I decided to bravely run away and delay my departure in the hope of warmer weather. A departure date of late December/early January will all being well see me reach the mountains in the Spring sunshine. I will still be crossing Europe in the winter but this is less of an unknown and something I'm fairly comfortable with.

I honestly feel like a bit of a failure for bottling it and taking the easier option, but at the end of the day I have nothing to prove and this trip is supposed to be enjoyable. The main reason for leaving in September was that I had to see out the notice period before leaving my job. However I had been questioning whether my savings were sufficient and a later departure allows me to get a temporary job for a few months to top up my funds.

Finally I had originally planned a trip to Scotland as a test run for the bike and equipment. Preparations have unfortunately taken a little longer than planned and so this extra trip was looking like it wouldn't happen. With a few extra months I will be able to fit in a quick blast up to the highlands, after all it seems silly to travel to the other side of the world when there is so much still to explore closer to home. 

See you on the road!

Cursed by the Mechanical Gods (part 2)

"Motorcycles don't leak oil, they mark their territory." - Unknown

Continuing to delve into my questionable vehicle history. Please see Part 1 here.

More photos of a stricken BMW for your amusement

I don't think tyres are supposed to look like that...

Some will no doubt claim I'm bad at maintaining things, others insist I'm just unlucky. Personally I think I just have a natural talent for breaking anything mechanical. Whatever the reason it has not deterred me and I continue to lust after the next car or bike, spending many hours trawling eBay for the next vehicle to strand me at the roadside and empty my bank balance.

Yamaha YBR125

Because who needs to go over 60mph right...?

After turning 24 and having missed being on a bike since selling my NSR125 to fund learning to drive, I decided to bite the bullet and do my Direct Access motorbike test. Having redone my CBT I needed a leaner bike to get some practice on, in between lessons. Fortunately I found a tidy looking YBR125 for sale in Abergavenny and I would soon be back on two wheels. In order to make the drive over to collect it worthwhile, we decided to carry on over to the Brecon Beacons for a brisk stroll up Pen y Fan. As it was November there was snow on the ground in the mountains but fortunately the roads were clear despite the freezing temperatures.

Not exactly motorcycle weather

Our walk was cut short by the rapidly fading light and it was pretty much dark by the time we got back to the car park. This issue was compounded  by the frankly abysmal headlamp on the bike which left a little to be desired.

No matter, I set off into the gloom, praying that I would make it back down into the valley before the road began to ice over! Racing down twisty mountain roads on a severely under-powered bike, by what was essentially candle light, was certainly an exhilarating experience! The adventure didn't stop there though, being on L plates I was barred from crossing the Severn Bridge and had to go the long way round. This was without a doubt one of the coldest journeys of my life and I even resorted to wrapping my hands around the warm engine whilst stopped at traffic lights in an effort to get some feeling back into my numb fingers. 

At least motorbikes are easy enough to fix yourself

Despite the arduous conditions the bike was faultless and made it home without incident. In fact in the short time I owned the bike, the only breakdown was caused by a punctured rear tyre. My Dad came to the rescue and we soon had the bike loaded into the back of his Transit van, who needs the AA!? 😂

Suzuki Bandit 600N 

Look how shiny it is!

Spoiler! I passed my bike test and haven't looked back since (except to do lifesavers obvs... 😉). Eager to step up to something with a little more power I was soon the proud owner of a shiny red Suzuki Bandit 600, my first 'proper' bike! This was possibly the most reliable vehicle I've ever owned and the only times it ended up in the back of Dad's van (you may notice a theme emerging), was when we collected it and when I crashed it (more on this later).

Norway is pretty (pretty expensive)

Having my bike licence was my ticket to freedom and within a week of passing my test I set off on route to the land of the Vikings, Norway! Unfortunately the weather decided to remind me of some of the realities of motorcycling and after debarking the ferry in Calais at around 7am it started raining. And kept raining the whole way through France. And Belgium. And Holland. In fact it didn't stop raining until after I arrived in Osnabrück that evening. A quick blast up the unrestricted Autobahn the next morning soon dried me out and I made it to Hamburg in no time, where I found a lovely riverside campsite to spend the night.

Unfortunately this was where the first of a few spills occurred. The exit to the campsite was up a slight, gravelly slope onto the road and struggling with a heavy overloaded bike I dropped it. Luckily the only real damage was to my ego and the bike only suffered a few scratches. With the help of a friendly German I was soon on my way again, heading North through Denmark and over The Bridge (great TV show btw, highly recommended) into Sweden. I eventually made it to Norway which is one of the most beautiful countries I've ever visited and somewhere I definitely want to return. Especially given that my trip was cut short as I very quickly ran out of money (Norway is beautiful but cheap it ain't!).

Motorcycles and Ice Cream

Shortly after returning from my little jaunt around Europe I joined the Wiltshire Bikers for my first ever rideout, a lovely tour around the many White Horses of Wiltshire. Well at least it was lovely until I stupidly decided to try and keep up with some of the faster riders on a narrow country lane. Taking evasive action around an oncoming horsebox I very quickly ran out of skill and stuffed the bike into the verge, throwing myself straight over the handlebars and into the ditch. A few of the other riders stopped to check on me which is more than can be said for the horsebox which had already disappeared round the corner. Luckily I got away without even a scratch, which is more than can be said for the bike. A broken clutch lever and bent gear shifter meant another phone call to Dad to recover the stricken bike.

Not my finest hour

Once the bike was home new levers were duly ordered and my wonky headlight bracket was bent back into shape. Definitely battle-scarred but back on the road and ready for the next adventure! 

Shiny new bike bits

This was to be a French road trip the following summer with a group of mates, following the coast down to the twisty mountain roads of the Pyrenees and Andora. 

Really not a fan of gravel...

Predictably I didn't even make it out of the country before I hit a patch of gravel and threw the bike down the road once again. On inspecting the damage (scuffed leathers, a small petrol spillage and yet more battle scars for the bike) I counted myself lucky and cracked on with the rest of the trip, keeping quiet about that particular spill until I was safely home.

One hell of a trip

Mercedes Vito

The filter hides the rust

After the untimely demise of the BMW I was left with only a motorbike for transport, great fun but not the most practical of situations. I therefore decided that as my primary need for a car was to move things about (crashed/broken down motorbikes for example...) it made sense to get a van instead. The possibility of a camper conversion was also particularly enticing and was definitely part of my reasoning.

Everyone said I should buy a VW Transporter, there is a reason so many people have them and I definitely liked the idea of a pimped out T4. However after seeing the price of them and deciding I wanted to go against the flow I settled on a Mercedes Vito, partly because the versatility of double sliding doors seemed greatly appealing. They were reknowned for  rust problems but how bad could it be..?

Got wood?

After much hunting I found what I was looking for. It needed a bit of welding and a new exhaust but at £900 it was surely a bargain. To tell a long story short it was very much not a bargain...

Amazingly my DIY carpentry was probably the strongest part of this van

Initially I was thrilled with my new purchase, it was hugely useful shunting all sorts of stuff about, my bike fit perfectly in the back, and with the addition of an airbed I could sleep in it anywhere! After wrestling with broken exhaust bolts and getting the rusted sills welded up I excitedly set off to B&Q to buy plywood and get stuck into the conversion. Alongside this I purchased a salvaged side door and a new front wing to replace the rather rusty ones currently adoring the right side of the vehicle. Unfortunately removing the old body work revealed yet more corrosion and on closer inspection it was revealed to be fairly catastrophic. The work needed to keep the van on the road was far from economically viable and the van was sadly scrapped. My brief foray into the world of #vanlife was over, substantially poorer but hopefully somewhat wiser...

I know riding off into the sunset is a bit of a cliche but...

At the ripe old age of 27 I've now been breaking down at the roadside for a full decade. As a result I've owned more than my fair share of unreliable vehicles and therefore two entire blog posts is still not enough to detail all of my many little disasters. If for some reason you're still reading then please watch out for Part 3 when my misfortune continues... 

Cursed by the Mechanical Gods! (part 1)

Given that my plans have once again been brought to an abrupt halt due to yet another mechanical issue, I figured this was a good topic for a blog post. Those who know me well will probably be aware that I don't have the best luck when it comes to vehicle reliability. But for those who don't, here is a "brief" rundown of the vehicles I've owned so far and some of the minor mechanical dramas which have afflicted them...

Ford Fiesta 1.1 Popular Plus

1991 was a good year

Technically not actually my car as my parents bought it for myself and my brother to learn to drive in. This car was as old as me, severely lacked power and desparately needed a fifth gear. However this did not stop me driving it up the M1 to uni in Newcastle a few times a year. The only time the AA had to be called out was when I snapped the key off in the petrol cap. And when my brother put in in a ditch... but the less said about the better. 

Unfortunately age eventually got the better of her and there were only so many times the sills could be welded up before prolific rust meant despite being in all other respects, mechanically sound,  the Fiesta was sent off to the scrapheap in the sky. RIP

VW Golf 1.4

The fleet

The first car I ever actually owned and probably the only time I chose well. A glorious ode to German engineering, this car was absolutely faultless until I crashed it in the French Alps. 

Oops...

Even then it lived to fight another day, once we'd beaten the bonnet back into shape with a hammer and taped over the broken headlight. This is more than can be said for the Corsa that I hit, which was written off there and then. The Golf meanwhile made it back to the UK without further incident, even surviving a nervewracking drive across Paris where my dented bumper fitted right in. Once safely home a quick phone call to a local vehicle breakers provided a new horn and headlight for minimal cost and she was good as new. Unfortunately the same could not be said of my no claims bonus and my subsequent renewal quote exceeded the value of the car by a considerable margin. As a result I was forced to sell this car, something which I have regretted to this day. I eventually reverted back to the Fiesta for a few years until I could afford something a little more capable.

Fully loaded on route to Newcastle!

BMW 325i

So shiny

After reaching Sandhurst and receiving my first paycheck I decided to upgrade to something with a little more power. Obviously the logical next step from a 20 yr old 1.1 litre Ford Fiesta was a BMW 3 series, complete with a 2.5 litre straight six. With alloys wheels, heated leather seats and a stunning Atlantis Metallic paintjob (which strangely none of my friends were so keen on), this car was the height of luxury as far as I was concerned. At a mere 12 years old it was practically new compared to my previous cars! Some how I didn't crash it, probably because it spent most of its time sat on the back of an AA truck... 

This car was my pride and joy...

Within a week of buying the car I was stranded in Halfords car park with a knackered clutch. After being recovered to a local garage I was informed that I needed both a new clutch and dual mass flywheel, not a cheap repair by any means! At least with that behind me I could get back to enjoying my new car and was soon off to the Lake District to catch up with a few uni friends and show off my fancy new car. Alas this didn't last long and I was soon limping my way along the length of Lake Coniston with a split header tank. Multiple top ups with lake water and a close eye on the temperature gauge got me as far as Coniston village where the AA were once again called. To cut a long story short the car returned home on the back of a truck once again.

An all too familiar sight

Multiple other dramas followed, notably a high speed blow out on route to Tidworth which left me changing a wheel on a dark, rainy roadside (low profile tyres and Wiltshire potholes are not a good combination). Then there was the whole brake saga, going through multiple sets of brake pads, scored discs and replacing hoses before eventually a seized caliper was diagnosed and replaced. Finally a rusted front wing caused an MOT failure and after a rather pricy quote to respray a new wing to match (the downside of the fancy colour) I eventually got fed up of throwing money at the car and decided to sell it. 

A love hate relationship

By the time the car eventually sold it had been sat so long that the head gasket had developed a catastrophic leak and this combined with a very aggressive London car dealer resulted in a rather unsavoury experience for my parents (I was away at the time) and minimal opportunity to recoup my losses on this terrible financial escapade.

To be continued... 

(look forward to the next instalment for the progession to motorbikes, reknowned Volvo reliability and my genius idea to build a campervan)

The Route

"It's always best to start at the beginning, and all you do is follow the Yellow Brick Road." - The Good Witch of the North, The Wizard of Oz


"So have you got a new job lined up yet?"
"No I'm planning on taking a year out"
"Oh cool what are you doing?"
"I'm going to Australia"
"That's awesome, have you booked your flight yet?"
"No, I'm going to ride there"
"You what!?"
"I'm going to ride there on my bike"
"You realise there's quite a lot of water in the way?"
"Yes I know, I'll put my bike on a ferry"
"Are you crazy?"
"Probably, but life would be boring otherwise..."

I'll be honest I've lost count of the number of times I've had this conversation in the past couple of months. The look on peoples faces when I explain what I'm planning never fails to amuse me. But it also strangely reassures me that I'm doing something right. At the risk of getting all serious and philosophical, life is too short for the mundane and if it doesn't excite you you're wasting your time. "Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all"

Once people have got their head around the idea or riding a motorcycle across multiple continents the topic of conversation invariably turns to the route. I've always been a fan of keeping my options open and just going where the road takes me, but in order to actually reach Australia a rough route, taking in some of the things I wanted to see along the way, would be required.

Having already travelled extensively round Europe, and given the relative ease of doing so (insert Brexit joke here...), I decided to take a fairly direct route, South East towards Turkey and the gateway to Asia, across the Bosphorus. However I've always listed the Croatian coastline as one of my favourite places and so a small detour to include this, as well as the Greek mainland (which I have never visited) seemed logical.

From Istanbul I would leave Europe behind and the real adventure would begin! I had hoped to cross Iran, if anything just to prove wrong all the people who told me it was dangerous, but unfortunately it was not to be. Rather inconsiderately someone stole an oil tanker, stirring up political tensions and making it rather tricky to get a visa. Not to mention a ridiculous rule about not allowing bikes over 250cc into the country... An alternative was required and after many hours spent researching and poring over the latest navigational aids (a childrens atlas and google maps) I decided to instead head North, through Georgia and into Azerbaijan.

From here I will cross the Caspian Sea into the land of the Stans! Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan are up next before a quick dash across China (much bureaucracy and a requirement for guides makes time spent in China with your own vehicle an expensive endeavour). Heading South I will enter Pakistan before crossing India to Calcutta. Due to more bureaucracy making it very expensive to bring your own vehicle into both Myanmar (Burma) and Thailand I will then ship the bike straight across to Malaysia to explore the many islands of South East Asia. After island hopping my way across Indonesia I will eventually have to cross the big wet bit and will load my bike onto a ferry for the final leg to Darwin, Australia.

The plan once I get there is still very much TBC, but it will almost certainly involve surfing, spiders and a visit to my Auntie Sandy down in Fremantle on the West Coast.

So that's the plan, but as we know, no plan survives first contact, and so this is very much subject to change. If anyone has any recommendations on places to see or even wants me to stop and visit them along the way then please let me know. Just don't tell me not to go somewhere because it's too dangerous, this only encourages me...

See you on the road.

The Noble Steed

So the plan was to ride from the UK to Australia but to do that I'd need a bike. Obviously this would mean a big shiny adventure bike designed for arduous round the world the world travel. Unfortunately I'm not Ewan McGregor and I don't have lots of money, or a support vehicle or a film crew... Time for a rethink!

As I was travelling solo and through some fairly remote regions I came up with a few criteria for my adventure machine. It needed to be:

• Simple - The bike would have to be repaired by either me (a very amateur mechanic with minimal experience) or a local mechanic who probably wouldn't speak English. Any repairs would be carried out using the tools I carried with me and a combination of locally available spares, duct tape and cable ties. 
• Light - There is a fairly high chance that I will drop the bike at some point so I needed something I could pick up by myself. In addition this would allow the bike to be easily pushed lifted and manoeuvred down alleys, onto boats and over narrow bridges etc
• Capable off road - Given that some of the roads in Asia rival even Wiltshire for poor road surfaces I needed something able to negotiate rough terrain, potholes, mud and the occasional river crossing. Sports bikes were out! (Although this has been done and utmost respect to those who throw practicality out of the window)
• Reliable - It's hard to get the miles in when you spend more time fixing your bike than riding it. Probably not a Ducati then...
• Power/Speed - Now a 125 dirtbike would meet most of these criteria comfortably but I would inevitably have to spend some time on main roads in order to actually make some progress. Having experienced the pain of holding up lorries on an under-powered 125  I wanted something capable of keeping up with traffic even when fully loaded.

Taking this all into account and  after many hours of research I settled on the Suzuki DRZ400. Japanese reliability, a mid sized engine, off road ability and a proven track record as an edventure bike, this dualsport machine seemed like the perfect choice.

Now to find one. After much trawling of ebay I managed to find a 2001 DRZ (the more road orientated S model) which already had bash plates, a rear rack and a large fuel tank fitted for added range. A quick ride over to London to check  it out and I was satisfied that I'd found the one. A little bit of haggling knocked £200 off the asking price and for £2300 she was mine!

I hopped on the train, sweating in my leathers in the June sunshine and soon arrived in Watford to collect the bike. An exchange of paperwork and a handshake later and I was off, straight to the petrol station as she was running on fumes and even cut out approaching a roundabout! £20 worth of unleaded and the monster tank was brimmed and ready to go.

The M25 is a less than ideal place to get to know a new bike, especially one more suited to dirt tracks than 4 lane motorway. The bike lacked power, the brakes were awful, the seat was already uncomfortable and with no fairing I was being buffeted about by the wind. A far cry from my 800cc BMW sports tourer! Had I made a terrible mistake?

Keen to escape the motorway I took a twisty route back home and my doubts quickly faded as I fell in love with the agile flickable handling and aggressive bark of the single cylinder engine. I soon had a huge grin on my face as I weaved between traffic and slung it round corners. This is what riding bikes is all about!

Approaching home I had the urge to get the bike off the beaten track and see what she could do. A quick blast along a gravel track over the common once again confirmed that I'd made the right decision and I was half tempted to carry on into the sunset but relented and pulled the bike into the drive. We were home!

More to follow as I take the spanners to the bike and get her adventure ready.

See you on the road.