9th August 2008

We got to bed quite late as we were saying goodbye to people and packing the bikes under a dark sky full of stars with the help of a torch and the small, green light of a lone glow worm.  I think it was 12am by the time I set my alarm clock for 3.15 am.  I woke at 3am and got up.  I tried to be careful by tiptoeing through the house where various members of Tris’s family lay sleeping.  If the swishing sound of my motorbike trousers didn’t wake them, then me searching for light switches and hitting all the wrong ones, must have.

We had a cup of tea and then set off into the night.  Now, I don’t like night riding at the best of times but I was confident that it wouldn’t be for long and therefore it would be fine.  I think we’d forgotten just how pitch black it can be in the French countryside at that time in the morning where there is very little light pollution.  It was really tough and quite scary.  I lost Tris at one point and, whilst hesitating between too roads, I did a stupid woman thing with the clutch and the bike stalled, jerking me sideways across the road.  I very nearly came off and I could feel my heart hammering inside my chest.  We managed to follow the lights of a couple of cars for some of the distance but it was slow going.  We had done some night riding during our trip but the roads were never that dark because they were lit by the orange glow of street lamps.

Eventually we stopped for some coffee and we could see a dim light in the sky; dawn was breaking.  It was a massive relief and it meant we’d be able to gain some time by travelling faster again.  We’d been watching the clock anxiously and worrying that low speeds might mean us missing the ferry.  By the time we set off again, daybreak was definitely on its way and my hunched up shoulders had relaxed themselves a little.  We were then treated to a spectacular sky full of pinks and purples and mist swirling around us in the dips in the road.  We made the ferry in good time and took some photos from our bikes to record our last moments on French soil.  The customs officers/police looking types people looked a little serious.  Two men stood with hands ready on guns and stared at us.  I grinned back, Tris roared off past them and I stepped smartly on the gear lever thingy to follow suit and impress them with my biking skills.  I managed to lurch forward, wobble wildly and nearly fell off at their feet which I thought was quite funny.  They were clearly not amused.  In fact they didn’t move, now I think about it maybe they weren’t real…

We got ourselves our cabin on the ship, had a last team photo, drank hot chocolate and ate the rest of the pains au chocolat, croissants and pains aux raisins we’d got for breakfast before going to sleep for 3 hours.  I woke up at 09.30, got confused by the time difference and lay staring at the ceiling waiting for the alarm to go off before I realised, (half an hour later), that I still had an hour left to sleep.  When we went down to free our bikes from their harnesses, we met the owners of the 2 bikes parked infront of ours.  They were a young couple who had just come back from touring around the Pyrenees.  We had a good chat, handed them a breast quest leaflet and followed them off the ship.  I felt quite jealous as the woman was tall, blonde and  looked quite elegant in her motorbike gear.  She could even touch the ground with her feet sat on her Yamaha.  I think I look like some kid who’s stolen a big motorbike off someone on mine.  Ah well…

England was cold, grey and rainy.  We got a little lost in Poole and whilst trying to turn round, Tris dropped his bike, well, he sort of lowered it to the ground as gently as possible.  He struggled to pick the bike back up with the weight of all his equipment.  Thankfully there was no damage and eventually we found the right motorway.  There then followed the second most horrendous ride we’ve had of our trip, (the other being the drive to Wroclaw and my accident).  The motorways were packed full of lazy drivers, sitting in the wrong lane and forcing people to undertake in contrast to the Italian and German drivers who move aside and let faster vehicles pass.  Sometimes we rode at snail’s pace through 2 hours of road works and we were cut up by lots of non bike-friendly drivers.  We decided the English won the worst drivers award in the whole of Europe.  The rain was hard going and when we stopped for a hot drink we received the worst service we’d experienced all trip by a miserable, unhelpful man called Steve, (smile Steve).  Because we’d taken the linings out of our gloves in Milan when it was blisteringly hot, the wet leather dyed our hands black so we looked like we had some strange reverse Michael Jackson disease going on.  I shivered at the service station despite my fleece and inspected my black hands.  Later, in my tired state, I had to make up a ‘please stop the rain’ song which I sang into my helmet for a few miles.  It felt like we were being pushed to the limits on the last leg of the whole trip and I focused all my energy on careful riding.

We were just nearing Nottingham when Tris pulled off the motorway, jumped off his bike grinning and had a pee behind a road sign.  At that point it felt like we’d never arrive because I too decided to find a toilet so that I wasn’t desperate for the loo on arrival in the Market Square.  We would have arrived bang on time but for the loo stop!  Soon after we were making our way across the Square and I was just wondering if I’d know where to go when I saw a crowd of people with a banner and a Central News camerman.  I was so exhausted. I hugged my family and friends and there were a fair amount of tears.  I think it was relief to be safe home at last and the realisation that we had completed our challenge.  It was a good feeling.  I spoke to Helen at Central News and I think I was buzzing a bit from all the caffeine.  Thanks to everyone who turned up in such miserable weather to welcome us back including members of the Nottingham Advanced Motorcyclists. 

I remembered our departure so well from the Market Square on July 19th when the handsome policeman had peered into my helmet and gently explained what was about to happen as all the bikers left the square with us.  When he’d finished patiently explaining the plan to me, he asked if I’d understood and I said, “Sorry, no, could you repeat it please?” because I’d been so overwhelmed by all the support, the people and his lovely eyes.  He then patiently re explained the plan to the mad woman who looked like a small kid on the big motorbike and I was sure everyone was wondering if I’d make it round Europe in one piece.  I heard someone asked the question, “Does Lou realise just what she’s taking on?”  I can honestly say I did and it caused me a lot of sleepless nights but I conquered my fears and with a lot of people’s help, (especially from my team mate), I achieved a dream.  We did it!  I’m so happy and also a little sad that it’s over.  It was strange watching my team mate ride off without me for good.