I had asked for and early 7 a.m. breakfast as we had a ferry to catch. Tatiana prepared us a fine breakfast with homemade cheese, jam, honey and fried dumplings. She was very charming again, calling us „good boys“ and „very positive“. The place was superb value for money, especially compared with earlier accommodations. And then Tatiana. Imagine the most hospitable and charming landlady you have ever met. And then put some iced sugar on it. That’s Tatiana.

We parted at 8 a.m. and rode to Saranda, our ferry harbour to cross the strait to the Greek island of Korfu. Thanks to the Sat Nav, we could find the small ferry harbour in the harbour and waited for the check-in….one hour later. It was only 9:15 and we were already roasted by the, seeking shadow where we could.

When another boat arrived and all the passengers wanted to leave to compounded area, chaos broke out. When you only have ONE policeman and ONE little gate that have to cope with with the influx and outflow at the same time, it get’s…complicated.

Finally we could enter the tiny ferry. All the good seats were already taken so we identified the free seats that would be in the shadow during the crossing. The only downside was that they were close to the women’s toilet. There was a large and noisy group of Polish tourists and after they had downed a crate of beer (!), the women lined up to get rid of it again…
The arrival at Korfu was somewhat less chaotic than the check-in in Saranda, but only slightly. The passport control in the building just took some time, but then every vehicle needed to be inspected one by one. We were last (no need to hectically queue, hakuna matata) and then the guy saw our dirty bikes and didn’t bother to inspect them. Well,…
What to do with half the free day? Our ferry to Italy would only depart late in the evening. We exited the harbour and visited the office of Minoan Lines as requested in the confirmation e-mail. However, this was a misunderstanding as it was meant that you had to visit the counter in the terminal prior to departure.
We rode along the coast, enjoying the splendid views on the sea and the small bays.

The idea was to have some snack in a snug location. Finally I spotted the right thing, called „The White House“, a restaurant right above the water of a small bay with a free table in the shadow. We ordered Greek salad and grilled squid and permitted ourselves a glass of white wine with it. The food was less traditional but with a modern touch. Anyway, it was tasty and we had to leave before the wedding party would arrive.

It was pretty hot and humid so the best place seemed to be the highest place on the island, in this case, the 900 m high summit of Pantokratoros. Home of a monastery and lots of radio communication. And a small café where we had a gorgeous view. And some chilled drinks.

We had spotted a tiny road at the bottom of the mountain, gravel, so we thought. We asked the barman and he said it „had a lot of stone“. We wanted to give it a try. After less than a kilometer, I called retreat. Stones, yes, but rocks? This was a tough road. Maybe ok without all the luggage and extra weight, but under these conditions…better to turn around than to risk a fall on the last kilometers. We rode down the mountain on some tiny roads and with good views. Down at the coast I had to fill up and had to help a very clumsy guy who tried to serve us.
After that, we rode to a taverna we had spotted in internet but found it closed. We picked another place with tables outside near the harbour and decided it was Gyros time with some beers. At 9 p.m. we went into the harbour and checked in. We still had to wait for about two hours until we could enter the fenced in area and had to wait another one until the ferry arrived and finally was moored properly. In the meantime I checked the air filter of the bike as it was running a bit rich. The dirty piece that I removed from the airbox confirmed my idea: I never had such a dirty filter…when did I last change it??

The ship’s staff welcomed us in the same way we would be treated the next 20 hours: rude and unfriendly; a guy trying to tie down the bike was shouting at me that I should lock the steering lock and fumbled with my keys in the ignition. I shouted back this was not possible and that he should take his &($%!!! finger off by bike and removed the keys before he could destroy something. The officer was also very charming.

The ship was a real disappointment, probably a punishment battalion of Minoan Lines. Instead of a plush ferry like the MS Venice, this MS Florencia filled the gap. Dirty, crappy food, unfriendly staff, no proper facilities…charming! We tried to kill time as good as we could. Epic: Greek truck drivers heavily smoking under a series of “no smoking” signs.

We arrived an hour late the next day in Ancona at 6 p.m. The check-out was quick and soon we were on the autostrada. As the sat nav said that we would arrive at the pre-booked hotel at half past eight, I pushed the XBR a bit….in the end we were flying with 150 km/h, a speed our bikes hadn’t seen in a long time. We made up some time and arrived at our 12th (!) country of our trip: San Marino. It is a very scenic place, dominated by a huge rock where the old town is located. We parked our bikes at the parking of the pedestrian zone and walked to our hotel. After a quick shower we were ready for dinner. The views from the terrace of the Piazza della Libertà are truly spectacular.

Next to the Piazza, we managed to get a table in the restaurant “La Terrazza” that has gorgeous views as well. We ordered all kinds of local products, beer (“Titanbräu”!), wine, antipasti, home-made pasta, Tagliata and desert. All very good. The gastronomic highlight of the trip. After a digestion walk through the old town we hit the sack.

The next morning we left San Marino not without filling up with “cheap(er) petrol”. On the way through the Po plain, it got hotter and hotter. Close to Verona, I exited the Autostrada and looked for a nice village, because the XBR was celebrating a special day:

I had never expected that I would ride 400.000 km with this bike, but it has happened! 400.000 km through 55 countries on four continents; the bike had sometimes some issues, but it never let me down, I always reached my destination, no breakdowns! Well, it’s a Honda! This asked for a short victory lap:

The rest of the trip was easy. Motorway in Italy and Austria. Temperatures up to 37 degrees. Lots of drinking breaks. Last scenic shortcut via the Achensee. Back in Miesbach, we went out for a Pizza (that we didn’t get during the trip) and concluded that this was a great trip, twelve countries in nine days, a lot of new impressions, and a good time!

After an early breakfast we south, riding along the lake. The night before, we had changed the plan. Instead riding on main roads and visiting the UNESCO heritage town Berat, we decided to cut through the Albanian hinterland and to experience some backroads before arriving at Gjirokaster. We knew it could get bumpy….

At the south end of the lake, we climbed up the road when we had to acquire a ticket to cross the Galicia National Park. From up there, we had first views on the Ohrid and later on the Lake Prepansko where we met good tarmac again.

Some kilometers to the south we crossed the border into Albania again. This time, I was asked for my insurance at the Albanian border. Gulp! I handed over my insurance paper with the stroked-through „AL“ and the Kosovar insurance, maybe this one would be valid here, too. Apparently it did. Or not. After registering my data, I could pass and we were back in Albania. The first part to Korça (home to the Korça brewery as we had yet discovered) was a good road. In Korça, I looked out for a more modern petrol station where I could pay by credit card. The road south of Korça was in a fantastic state, brand-new! Would this ride today be a piece of cake? For a while, we were living this dream, riding on perfect tarmac. Until the road ended and we faced the reality of Albanian backroads again. The landscape was nice, but the surface required all attention. The town of Erseke was clearly preparing for some mass tourism…whenever it will come. Slowly, the road deteriorated more and more. It turned more into a track, although I know many tracks that would feel humiliated to be compared with THIS.

The sights were lovely, though.

We crossed a little pass and I had to notice that I felt some play in my handlebar. What was going on here? Clearly, it was getting worse and the bad road clearly revealed it. Finally we reached the town of Leskovik where a decision or action needed to be taken. In my mind, I had developed already some plan B and C, should this be a problem that couldn’t be fixed. They all involved crossing into Greece immediately, avoiding bumpy Albanian roads. However, I had an idea…; I had experienced something similar during my trip in Iran….a play in the steering that showed on bad roads. Later, it had turned out that the steering bearing was not tightened properly. Could this be the same problem here? I explained the issue to Stefan and had him riding the XBR as well. He confirmed my observation. By putting our tool boxes together, Stefan checked the steering bearing screw…and fix it, it was indeed not tightened enough! A quick test showed that this had been the problem, probably the counter screw was a bit loose and the bad road had worsened it, loosening the bearing screw that holds the bearing in place. Phew! Resolved. We could continue with plan A. With the help of the Sat Nav, I could find the road but I soon concluded that there must have been a reason why there was no indication, it should have said: „not for public use – ride at your own risk!“
The whole way down to the valley we met one couple on mules and one car who seemed happy to meet a living soul. In terms of landscape, it was worthwhile, but I was happy that the bearing was fixed, because this was the worst part on our whole trip. The thing is that you never manage to get it properly documented on pictures, so you simply need to take my word.

Down in the valley, close to the Greek border, about 90 km from Gjirokaster, we were surprised to find a road with perfect new tarmac! This was our reward after this suffering? Anyway, we enjoyed it. I did a bit less because the steering bearing was a bit too tight, something that was adjusted later after arrival. We were motivated to hurry a bit, because a large thunderstorm was forming where we just came from. After 1.5 hours and a fluent ride and good and scenic ride in two valleys, we arrived in Gjirokaster. It is listed as UNESCO heritage for its ensemble of Ottoman houses that were preserved even during the communist era. The fact that it was the birth town of Enver Hoxha may have played a role here.
The Sat Nav led me through very narrow streets, only passable for motorbikes until we arrived at our Hotel Argyropolis. It has the highest rating I have ever seen on Booking.com, a whopping 9.9 out of 10. And we were not disappointed. We were welcomed by Tatiana, the owner. What she lacked in English vocabulary, she overcompensated by kindness and hospitality. The 200 year old house had been renovated thoroughly and put in a very modern and clean state. For Albanian standards, it’s off-scale so the 9.9 rating is justified. Our room was next to the house, super clean and cozy. After an urgently needed shower, we were ready to walk to the city centre nearby. Tatiana told us to wait and to join her in the patio and returned with two glasses of water and some homemade caramelized water melon skin. Very tasty, I never had this before.
In the city, we understood why the city aspires to be the touristic centre in the region.

Old traditional houses with tiny streets….and lots of souvenir shops and sellers. This seems to be the essence of tourisms. We walked around a bit before we went to the restaurant that we had spotted in internet. We were very early and could occupy the tiny balcony in the street. Good for watching, but also prone to getting roasted by the setting sun until it disappeared behind a mountain.

The food was ok, maybe not up to the high expectations, but ok. After that we walked up to the old castle where one has a good view on the city and its location on the mountain’s flank.

We had in mind to have some concluding drink on a terrace and found a very modern, „cool“ lounge-type place with a large terrace with a spectacular 270 degrees view.

We spent the rest of the evening there and filled up our liquid reservoir, as the sweating during the day depletes you of a lot of water. The thunderstorm did not make it there, but provided some dramatic scenery. When we returned to the hotel, we discovered the even „cooler“ streets with DJ music and youngsters sitting in the streets. This was in contrast to the call of the muezzin coming from the centric mosque.

Although we could get our breakfast only at 8 a.m. again, we managed to leave at 9 a.m. We descended to the Tara Canyon, the second deepest in the world after the Grand Canyon. It is the largest and deepest canyon in Europe, which is for the most part located in Montenegro, and to a smaller extent in Bosnia and Herzegovina. We stopped at the Đurđevića Tara Bridge that was built between 1937 and 1940 in the Kingdom of Yugoslavia. The 365-metre-long (1,198 ft) bridge has five arches; the largest span is 116 metres (381 ft). The roadway stands 172 metres (564 ft) above the Tara River. At the time of its completion, it was the biggest vehicular concrete arch bridge in Europe. It is still very impressive today:

We followed the canyon and had some great views, although it is difficult to stop at the best ones. The waters are spectacularly green and clear. For the next 40 km, there was no settlement or even hamlet, just the canyon and a good road. Fantastic.

The landscape after this was less spectacular, but still beautiful. We rolled slowly through the green countryside and enjoyed the morning. Then I had missed a turn and pointed to Stefan to turn left. I heard a crashing noise behind me and saw man and machine on the ground. He slipped on some sand when he wanted to turn. But luckily it is a BMW GS with crash bars so no harm done to rider nor steed apart from a few scratches. It showed, however, that carrying gloves even in hot weather is still a good idea. In Rozaje, we filled up tactically to have enough juice for the whole day. We rode up some densely wooded mountains and arrived at a pretty abandoned border post. The Montenegrin side took it slow, the Kosovan side as well. It’s good to have some quiet border crossings as well. We had to buy some insurance for the Kosovo which required some patience and explanations to the clerk but we succeeded and we were now owners of a very colorful piece of paper for 10 Euros. Before that, we had to pass a herd of cows that shared the road with us. Their cowboy said that he had lived in Augsburg for 30 years. It’s a small world.

While decending, the Kosovan plain was right in front of us. We sat down under a tree, had a little break and enjoyed the view. .

This was the only picture I took in Kosovo and later it will turn out why. We carried on and arrived at the city of Pejë. The towns we crossed were bursting with life, a lost of recent progress seems to have been made. People have come a long way, it is a weird mix between old and new, it reminded me of the situation in Eastern Europe in the nineties. The was one special place to visit according to the Lonely Planet guide: The Visoki Dečani Monastery. Luckily, my Sat Nav found the way, roadsigns seems to be really absent in the area. When we approached the monastery, we had to pass a check point (!) by the…..KFOR! It began to dawn on me that this could be a political issue. The monastery is Serbian orthodox, surrounded by ethnic Albanian Kosovars. I had a look in the guide. Indeed, I was right. The KFOR is the peacekeeping force of NATO members stationed in Kosovo after the Kosovo war in 1999. From Widipedia:

The Visoki Dečani Monastery is a medieval Serbian Orthodox Christian monastery located near Dečani, Kosovo. It was founded in the first half of the 14th century by Stefan Dečanski, King of Serbia. In 2004, the monastery was declared a World Heritage Site by the UNESCO) as “an irreplaceable treasure, a place where traditions of Romanesque architecture meet artistic patterns of the Byzantine world.”

Albanian civilians seeking refuge in the monastery returned to their homes following the withdrawal of Serbian military from Kosovo in June 1999. An Italian unit of the Kosovo Force (KFOR) was subsequently assigned to guard the monastery, which was attacked on several occasions. Since 1999, attacks on the Monastery have increased, there have been five significant attacks and near miss attacks on the monastery.

Wikipedia, Visoki Dečani

Suddenly we were reminded of this frozen conflict that is pretty much forgotten in Central Europe. We found the entrance to the monastery that was guarded by a heavily shielded check point. We were friendly asked by a soldier to park opposite on the parking lot. At the gate, I chatted a bit with the Italian soldiers, but they were well trained and gave diplomatic answers about their mission and the situation in general. We had to leave our passports and received a visitor badge. After that, we could enter the small, walled area. The church is not so big, but it does indeed have a byzantine touch about it. The next pictures are all from the internet, no photographs were allowed.

We entered the churched and were immediately stunned by the quantity of the frescos that covered all the high walls. We were asked about our whereabouts and the friendly man started to tell us something about the church’s history. This developed into an interesting talk, partly speaking in code because our conversation touched politically and historically sensitive subjects, such as the founding of the monastery by the Serbians, the Battle of Kosovo (Schlacht auf dem Amselfeld) in 1389, the role of Kosovo in Serbian history, the Balkan War in 1912 etc. It was a very good background given from a more Serbian point of view.

In the monastery shop, I purchased two Rakija (“Grappa”) from the monastery for late use. When walking back to the parking, I was thinking about this absurd situation that represents the complicated entanglement of “ethical” relations in the whole region of the Balkans. Croats vs. Bosniaks vs. Serbs vs. Kosovars/Albanians vs. Macedonians vs. Bulgarians…. what a mess.

We rode towards the mountains and the border, this was a only a very short visit to the Kosovo. Shortly before the border, a very ambitious Golf III overtook Stefan, but he wouldn’t overtake me as well, would he? Well, he managed in the last 20 m before the checkpoint! Wow! A first glimpse what was ahead of us in Albania. The border checks were quick and my question where I could buy an insurance was met with an indecipherable grunt that probably meant “I don’t know/who cares/please leave/don’t embarrass me”. The first town we crossed looked different from the other countries we had visited so far. A tad less developed. I thought to have even spotted an old monument of the Enver Hoxha era.

We entered the Valbona valley, probably one of the best natural beauties in Albania.

The Valbona Valley National Park is a national park inside the Albanian Alps in northern Albania. The park covers a total area of 80 km2, encompassing Valbona River and its surrounding areas with mountainous terrain, alpine landscapes, glacial springs, deep depressions, various rock formations, waterfalls and the Valbona Valley with its dense coniferous and deciduous forest. It is characterized by its very remote areas which have a large preserved ecosystem all of which is primarily untouched with pristine quality. This vast pristine ecosystem is the centrepiece of what has been referred to as the Albanian Miracle of the Alps.

Wikipedia

The views were indeed spectacular. A deep valley and high mountains. Clear rivers. Definitively Alpine. But not something you would expect at this latitude.

I had reserved a room in a hotel at the very end of the valley, reachable by a bumpy piste after 1 km. The place was modern and clean and after stowing our luggage, we went back to the XBR to fix the play in the sprocket/rim/damper. By working hand in hand, we quickly removed the back wheel, cut some rubber stripes out of the rubber mat I bought in Dubrovnik and placed the pieces to reinforce the rubber damper, thereby reducing the play. The whole work lasted less than 20 min. I also exchanged the spark plug and topped out the chain lubricant, service done!

After a well-deserved shower, we occupied a large table with gorgeous mountain views, accompagnied by some quenching beers. We ordered dinner and the young waiter who spoke some German elegantly made us order more and more until the large table really made sense. It was all very good and we managed to eat almost all of it. After all, we have no lunch breaks so the stomachs are pretty empty.

Later in the room, I tried to write my report and upload the pictures, but I did not succeed. This means my reports will be a bit delayed from now on.

Our breakfast fast was rather late – 8 a.m. – but our program for today was not very tight so we could afford a relaxed one. We had to carry our luggage to the fenced parking that caused my sweat to flow in streams – hot and humid mediterranean climate does that to me. The weather was – what a surprise – sunny and hot. We started rather late at a quarter to ten, after topping up the motor oil and chain lube, and left Split riding on the coastal road again. It was a detour but definitively worth it. Lots of beautiful sights, cute little bays and beaches, too many to stop every time. It is tricky to capture the atmosphere in pictures – a lot is lost there, but I think you get the idea:

We filled up again and joined the motorway again. The temperature was in the 30’s with higher humidity at the coastline. Soon we reached the border to Bosnia and Hercegovina and after a short passport control, we were in! I had planned to visit the Kravica water falls, but due to some lacking road signs, I gave up and dumped the idea. The next destination was Mostar, the notorious city known from the Yugoslavian war. It’s not very far from the, just some 50 km.

Mostar is situated on the Neretva River and is the fifth-largest city in the country. It was named after the bridge keepers (mostari) who in the medieval times guarded the Stari Most (Old Bridge) over the Neretva. The Old Bridge, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, built by the Ottomans in the 16th century, is one of Bosnia and Herzegovina’s most visited landmarks, and is considered an exemplary piece of Islamic architecture in the Balkans. Two wars (Serb forces versus Bosniak and Croatian and Croat-Bosniak war) left Mostar physically devastated and ethno-territorially divided between a Croat-majority west bank (with ca. 55,000 residents) and a Bosniak-majority old City and east bank (with ca. 50,000 residents), with the frontline running parallel to the Neretva River.

Almost 30 years have passed by and the Bosnian War seems to be over a long time. However, quite a number of ruins reminded us of the past when we rode into the city. Today, Mostar centre is full of tourists and souvenir shops. We parked the bikes in the shadow, close to the pedestrian zone and locked our jackets and helmets to my bike. We strolled between numerous souvenir shops towards the Old Bridge.

The Old Bridge is unmistakenly the outstanding piece of architecture in Mostar. It stood for 427 years, until it was destroyed on 9 November 1993 by the Croatian Defense Council during the Croat–Bosniak War. Subsequently, a project was set in motion to reconstruct it; the rebuilt bridge opened on 23 July 2004. The bridge is considered an exemplary piece of Balkan Islamic architecture and was commissioned by Suleiman the Magnificent in 1557. Upon its completion it was the widest man-made arch in the world. Given that mosques, synagogues, and churches in Mostar were in proximity, the Old Bridge was targeted for the symbolic significance it served in connecting diverse communities.It can be considered an act of “killing memory”, in which evidence of a shared cultural heritage and peaceful co-existence were deliberately destroyed. This resembles latest developments in Ukraine where the cultural heritage is targeted as well.

We crossed the bridge to the other side and discovered some nice cafés under it with a view on the bridge and the people who were eager to join some rafting boats. A large jump into the river was also near where people jumped from 15 or 20 metres height. We found a small table in first row and enjoyed a Turkish/Bosnian Mokka.

After this relaxing break in the cool shade, we walked to our bikes and rode back, in some 35 degrees. But instead going back to the coast, we did a little detour. Bosnia owns a small strip of land at the coast that cuts the Dalmatian, Croatian coast in half. By riding directly to Neum, the Bosnian city in this enclave, we avoided to cross into Croatia, back to Bosnia, and back to Croatia again. Only one crossing to Croatia was needed.The last 50 km today were very scenic, I stopped again a few times, much more stops could happen, but I’m usually too lazy to turn around.

Well, and then, finally we arrived at King’s Landing. Oh wait, I think in this world it is called “Dubrovnik”?

We quickly found our accommodation, like yesterday a place that has a few ok rooms, but is not really a big hotel. But for our purposes it’s ok. A quick shower and we were ready to visit the Old Town of Dubrovnik, historically known as Ragusa. It is one of the most prominent tourist destinations in the Mediterranean Sea, a seaport and the centre of Dubrovnik-Neretva County. In 1979, the city of Dubrovnik was added to the UNESCO list of World Heritage Sites in recognition of its outstanding medieval architecture and fortified old town.

We walked through the narrow and wide streets and alleys, its picturesque squares. As it was already in the evening, we didn’t walk the huge ramparts on the huge wall that surrounds the old city. A genuinely marvelous city with a very special atmosphere.

I had to think of my favorite scene in GoT:

That was the right hint. We discovered this busy bar outside the wall, just over the sea with magnificent views. Time for an aperitif!

After that, we want back to that yard that we had seen before, looking great. We had some salad and grilled calamari, very delicious.

Cozy. On our way back to the hotel, we criss-crossed the old town and enjoyed the lower temperatures. No fire-breathing dragons anywhere in sight!

Luckily, our rooms have airco again. Tomorrow, the new country will be: Montenegro (Црна Гора).

We started the day early – off to breakfast at 7 a.m. It was surprisingly good and we had a good start in the day. We packed our stuff and at 8:15 we sat on the bikes and wanted to set off – I started the motor, released the clutch – and heard a terrible sound from the front! I remembered that I had tested my lock yesterday and had put it around the front wheel. Well, the cracking sound resulted in a damaged front fender that was totally broken and even ripped out of its screws on the left side. Fantastic! Only two meters travelled and already a damaged bike! We assessed the situation – this looked bad. I came up with the idea to fix everything with some gaffer tape – not beautiful, but effective. But there is another advantage when you travel with the best mechanic on this side of the Mississippi: Stefan came up with the idea to heat a screwdriver with a lighter and to burn two wholes in the plastic of the fender, fixing it to the underlying fender frame with zip ties. A very bold idea…

And it worked! Wow! Rock stable. With only 15 minutes delay, we headed off. On the motorway and off to Slovenia. But before, we filled up and wanted to purchase a vignette for the Slovenian highways. Only possible online. For the next 10 minutes, I arranged to book with my smartphone two vignettes for us. The weather was splendid today. We passed the Karawanken mountains in the tunnel and rolled through Slovenia. Easy going, we were not in a hurry. Around Ljubljana there was some heavy traffic that required some filtering. We had decided not to ride the whole day on motorways but to do some shortcuts on secondary roads. The first one was rather slow – lots of traffic and little chances to overtake. We passed the Croatian border, did a short break and descended to Rijeka on a good motorway. There, the Adriatic Mediterranean welcomed us with fantastic weather. Hot, but not too hot, blue skies and fantastic views. Soon we left the motorway behind us and rode on the coastal road No 8. There was still quite some traffic but the views were fantastic, postal card quality. In Novi Vinodolski, I had to stop and take some pictures.

In Senj, we had to fill up and combined it with a short break. I needed a snack, enjoying the great view from the petrol station. After Senj, the road turned into a fantastic ride: little traffic, gorgeous views, mostly good tarmac and nice bends. A scenic motorbiking dream. I rode a bit faster to occasionally stop and take pictures. This was so much better than the motorway!

Shortly after picturesque Karlobag we stopped for a break for a scenic view. This road made it directly into my top ten of motorcycle roads. The 150 km between Senj and Zadar are highly recommended!

It was quite hot, above 30 degrees, but when riding it was ok. Even the best flow has to end and near Zadar we joined the motorway again. The next hour was rather boring and I checked whether a detour along the coast would cost us a lot of time. It would so I dumped the plan again. With 30 km to go, we exited and took a road to the coast, descending to the blue coast again. With our today’s destination (Split) in sight, I spotted a larger-than-life ad of Bauhaus, the big DIY shop. I set my Sat Nav to this location as I had a cunning plan. When putting the rear wheel back in the bike, I realized that the rubber dampers in the rear wheel are quite worn, resulting in a large play. Not always fun to accelerate. In the shop, I purchased a rubber mat, a cutter knife and some clue. Should I get too annoyed by the play, I could add some rubber to the damper.

Some minutes later, we would arrive at the rented room – so we thought. But the place was located in a small street that seemed to be inaccessible for motorized traffic. After some turns, I walked to the place and met the landlord. We could push the bikes there and check in. We were shown the locked parking later. It is a nice room in an old building, one of the few that was left a few days ago, considering the centric location. After the shower and the washing of the riding underwear, we walked through the old town, that is dominated by the old palace of the Roman emperor Diocletian:

What was a bit off-putting was the sheer quantity of people in the streets. How does this look like in August???

In the end we place that our landlord recommended to us – a very authentic place, not so touristic like many others. Not fancy, but the food was very good. We had octopus salad for starters and sea bream and Cevapcici for main course. Simple, but very tasty.

The price however was not traditional, but very much adapted to the new reality in town. Wow.

We walked back through the harbour promenade, wondering where all the people came from. Party time!

Today, we went through Austria, Slovenia and Croatia. Tomorrow, we’ll make a detour through Bosnia. A new country.

It is time for another little adventurous trip. It’s only a short one, but like the trip to Japan, it was postponed for some years, in this case due to the Pandemic. Three years ago, my mate Stefan and I decided to do a trip together, the concept was fairly simple: visit the white spots (aka unvisited countries) on my motorbiking map. In this case, this means Bosnia, Montenegro, Kosovo, Albania and North Macedonia. Not in three weks. Nor two weeks, no. We plans to do it in 9 days, which is equivalent to one country per day. And of course I ride with my trusted steed, i.e. the old Honda XBR500 with 397.000 km on the clock.

After leaving the fair in Munich where I worked this week, I returned to my place in Miesbach and changed gear considerably. I left shortly after 5 p.m. in showery rain and picked up Stefan. We filled up and set off for our first long ride together in four years. Our old ladies (a 1985 XBR and a 88 R100GS) go slow, but steady. We had decided to do a short trip in the evening of about 280 km that would save us some riding the next day; we passed Salzburg and crossed the Alps on the Tauernautobahn direction south. We had put on our rain gear at home and finally we passed some strong showers; riding in the sunshine in full rain gear does look somewhat stupid. In the end we profited from our anticipation.

After 2.5 hours we reached our destination for today, Villach in Carinthia. The hotel is “no frills” near the station but ok. We walked a short distance to a nice brewery where we had some good beers and good local food. Tomorrow the heat will start and rain gears won’t be needed for a while.

Should you be interested in checking the GPS track: https://new.spotwalla.com/trip/7ded-65eee9b-cf5f/view?p=Balkan

Then I had this plan to combine everything.

Well, I combined two business meetings at the Lago Maggiore and in Valencia by riding with my old XBR500. It was a smooth ride and I was really lucky with the weather. I stayed with family in Valencia and on one day, I went out for a ride with my XBR buddy Johannes, who was by coincidence on a motorbike vacation in the area. I showed him my favorite biking/motorbiking roads north of Valencia. We had a really nice day out in perfect weather.

I left the bike in Valencia and returned by airplane. One week later, I returned to Valencia by plane and the next morning I set off for the Ride to Eat meeting in Portugal. I set off at 6 a.m. at some cool 14 degrees. The motorway climbed up to the Utiel Requena region and it started to get chilly. I stopped and put on my sweater. Hmmm, only 5 degrees now. While riding to Madrid, I hoped that the sun would soon warm up Castilla….which it didn’t. When I was west of Madrid, I stopped in bright sunshine and put on my rain suit! There was a nasty cold wind that made me shiver all the time. The rain suit at least protected me from the windchill. Close to the Portuguese border, I stopped in Ciudad Rodrigo, looking for a place to eat. I had not remembered that Portugal is in another time zone so I had another hour to get to the meeting point. By coincidence, I passed by the local Parador in the old town overlooking the plain. Hm, why not. I had some suckling pig (famous in the area) and when I left the restaurant, it was finally warm outside. Before reaching the border, I noticed that the sparse Castilian plain turned into a green land with many bushes, trees and shrubbery. The motorway in Portugal was of excellent quality. I had to book into the automatic toll system that works with number plate recognition (!) The landscape was lovely now and I finally warmed up in the Portuguese sun.

I exited the motorway in Covilhã and was surprised by this neat town situated at the bottom of the Serra de Estrela mountains. The views were very nice, what a difference after the Castilian plains. And the road was very winding and in a good state, this felt a bit like in the Alps!

Higher and higher went the until I reached the highest point in Portugal: Torre in the centre of the Serra da Estrela, just under 2000 m altitude. And there was already the rest of the pack: riders from UK, the Netherlands, Germany and other countries, meeting at 4 p.m. sharp for the group picture of the “European Ride to Eat”, that happens at a special place anywhere in Europe. This time it was in Portugal and a good excuse for me to visit the country: it was a white spot for the XBR, I had never been to Portugal on a motorbike before! After the group picture, we headed downwards to the Hotel in Manteigas where we all stayed for the night.

On the way down I had swapped my new notebook with the one from Tommy who had given me the idea to use it for navigation. It’s a big bricking the front, but it gives the option of using nivation apps (Waze, Maps) in real time. It worked quite well on this first trip, but while riding the tablet does not charge. The swap confirmed that it was not a problem of the tablet; Tommy’s tablet showed the same problem. My conclusion was that the vibrations of the XBR make the flexible contacts oscillate which results in a bad connection. When the motor is switched off, the tablet charges normally.

After checking in, I discovered an unexpected rider: it was John Young who’d not beet at the meeting point as he had overslept 😆. We had a chat before I checked the shower in my room. The hotel was a very elegant spa with its own fountains. A great pick. This was also confirmed by the good buffet dinner. We had a good evening with a lot of good conversations. After a relaxed breakfast the next morning I left very late at 10:30 a.m. (well, actually at 11:30 Spanish time). I did a little detour and enjoyed the plush landscape and the picturesque villages. I was reminded of riding in Northern Italy and concluded that I definitively have to return to Portugal for some proper riding.

Soon I reached the Spanish border and was back in flat Spain. I filled up in Salamanca and turned north. Only when I turned east and followed the Ebro river, the landscape changed for the better. I was in the Rioja region now and liked to ride through the rolling hills. Mental note: a trip to La Rioja is on the wish list for a long time already.

I made good progress on my route to the Pyrenees. My idea was to visit Andorra the next day. Why? Because the XBR had not been there, so….Earlier, I had managed to book a hotel in Lleida for the night, using the tablet. This might sound scary, but actually it is easy during a slow motorway cruise. I ride quite relaxed on the old XBR that is only a few kilometers short of 400.000 km. 120 km/h is usually the right speed that makes the old lady feel comfortable. I had a moment of suspense when there was no petrol station when I needed one. But in the end you need to have patience. Finally I arrived in Lleida and checked into the prebooked hotel.

I had selected it for its good reviews of its restaurant. You can understand my disappointment when I heard it was closed on Sundays! It was difficult to find an open restaurant; in the end I visited a Chinese-Korean-Japanese restaurant called “Himalaya”…where I was the only guest. I ordered a Japanese classic – Ramen with Gyoza that was actually quite alright. My plan to have some nice Catalan dinner had to be postponed. On the way back to the hotel through the sleepy town I had to make a detour; I was stopped by a policeman who suggested to take another route. Apparently, a big police squad was doing a raid. Not so sleepy as I thought then.

After a good night’s rest without a breakfast, I left Lleida at 8 a.m. and headed north. I enjoyed riding through the soft, green hills, a true pleasure. I made good progress and decided in Ponts to have a classic breakfast in a roadside bar: un cafè amb llet i dos croissants, si us plau! I had a long day ahead of me, so I needed a solid foundation for the day.

I spured the XBR, but the closer I got to Andorra, the more cars with Andorran plates (Porsches, Jags, BMWs) passed me. And not just by a small margin. They seemed to be drawn by a strong, invisible force towards their home principality.

Very often I did not manage to stop when there was a magnificent view, but sometimes I was able to stop the flow:

Finally I arrived in Andorra where I filled with “cheap” petrol. Cheaper, that is. Andorra la Vella is really a special thing, like any other micro states. Only a small patch of land, but the fancy buildings indicate that a lot of money is parked here. I had planned to stop and to visit a wine shop. I wanted to acquire a souvenir from Spain. The shop had an exquisite selection of fine wines from Spain and France, top notch. In the end a bottle of yummy Valbuena was stowed away in my panniers. I decided not to ride over the pass, but through the tunnel towards the French border, I still had a long way to go on that day. After a chilly ride with the mountain tops covered in snow, I crossed the border and descended into France. although I still had to ride on country roads, I made good progress and joint the motorway again near Carcassonne.

The route northwards was simple: follow the A9 along the Mediterranean and the Rhone valley. A petrol and snack stop near Bezières. I planned to stay anywhere near Lake Geneva, best on the French side to avoid pricy Switzerland. However, a lack of vacancies made me rethink this. North of Geneva, only few places were still available, so I booked one with good evaluations. It did not have a restaurant, so I thought to have a stopover before. Unfortunately, it turned out that Monday evening in Switzerland is the equivalent to Sunday evenings in Lleida: everything closed.

In the end I had to visit the only place that was open: a Chinese restaurant! So no Swiss dinner tonight. Well, the Chinese food was ok and with a full stomach I tried to find the hotel. Hotel? In a residential area?? Let’s check…no, the address is correct! But this is a private home? I rang the bell and was welcomed by the landlady. I had booked a room in a private house! Slowly I realized that the place was listed as “chambre d’hôte”. Private room. Ok, no problem, any hotel would be more expensive. The lady was very friendly and served me a beer with snacks. The place was cosy and in the morning, the charming host served a spectacular breakfast on the little balcony with views on the Lake Geneva and the Mont Blanc.

I was well fed for the last stint to my home place in Miesbach, Bavaria. In finest sunshine, I cruised across Switzerland to Lindau. I decided to avoid motorways and chose the roads close to the mountains. It was quite fast, and in the early afternoon I arrived on home soil. Before arriving at my house, I had to make a stopover at one of the most beautiful places in Bavaria: Kaltenbrunn over the Lake Tegernsee.

After this relaxing initiation I rode to my home place where I spent some relaxing days. This is best done in some nice weather, for example like this:

Of course I also some important things to do. Last year, I had purchased a tuned motor from a Honda NX650 Dominator with the intention to replace the 600cc motor in the grey café racer XBR with it. 680cc instead 600cc instead 500cc. Higher displacement and a hot cam shaft. My mate Stefan had swapped the engines some weeks ago, the idea was now to install an oil cooler to keep the temperature at bay. On one day, Stefan took care of it and organized a new oil hose as the provided one did not offer a proper position. In the end, the result was very satisfactory, everything looked fine.

There’s no replacement for displacement.

Honda XBR680

I did a short test ride and the set-up seemed to work, the power is flabbergasting. Everything was tight, no leaks, no issues. So this meant that Stefan and I had to go on a longer, proper test ride the next Sunday. We did nice tour to the Lake Chiemsee and back. I soon noticed that there was something…different. The revolutions of the motor did not match the usual pattern. It was difficult to ride with less than 3000 rpm in the small gears, difficult in 4th under 4000 prm und impossible in 5th gear. The rpms in 4th gear at a certain speed were lower than normally in 5th! What was wrong here? The gear ratio was completely off!

The Dominator has a 15 teeth front sprocket, a 45 rear sprocket and a 520 chain. The XBR has a 15 teeth front sprocket, a 36 rear sprocket and a 525 chain. So I had ordered a Dominator 15 teeth front sprocket, a 36 rear sprocket with XBR geometry and a 520 chain. Seemed logical.

Big mistake.

What I didn’t have in mind was the primary gear ratio of the motor. I discovered that both XBR and NX motors are totally different. With the help of a calculator website and the data from the internet I could confirm my observations. I also could calculate what the right ratio would be. I ordered a set on the internet only to find out later that for this rear sprocket (15/46 teeth) I had overlooked to check for the right geometry (right inner diameter and right bolt circle, but wrong bolt diameter). Right, cancel it. However, there was no sprocket with 15/46 to be found, only a 13/39 combination. According to the calculator, this should be similar. I ordered it with the aim to receive it before I would return north the next weekend. Good plan, but I didn’t count with the bad performance of the parcel delivery. It arrived far too late and left me no option than to do the Magic 12 rally, situated in the federal state of Northrhine Westphalia with this gear ration, an unpleasant ride. On the way up to my individual starting place, I noticed the strong pulling of the chain, caused by the wrong gear ratio. This was not good. I could ride in fifth gear above 130 km/h, but it was not smooth. In the hotel I checked again my well designed plan; we had received the data some days earlier. It was a good plan, potentially a winning plan. Visiting lots of places plus a lot of extra points taking pictures of town signed whose first letters would form the name NORDRHEIN WESTFALEN. All set.

I got up a four and started the 12 hour rally with a petrol receipt at 5 a.m. There was not a lot of traffic in the morning when I whooshed though the country side. The motor does have a lot of oomph, indeed. I visited the storm-stricken town of Paderborn, there a tornado had one day before destroyed the centre of the town. I had passed the storm not far from it; it was so scary that I had considered stopping. In the morning, lots of trees were bent. Ironically, the plaque that had to be photographed was still there.

Some places were special and I was riding in the countryside, avoiding the slower parts of the Ruhrgebiet. When do you meet a statue to remember a pig race?

I was way ahead of my plan and soon there would be the mandatory lunch rest. I noticed that the chain had some slack and I planned to tighten it during the break. When I wanted to do. it, I noticed that the rear wheel had some lateral play!! Aaaaargh! What the….!!!! This was it? I still had some hours to go and there was no shortcut to the finish. So I only could hope for the best and continue my plan. Which I did. I rode very carefully for one hour and visit quite some places, but, I was skeptical if I could make it. At a certain point I had to make decision. I stopped and checked the play. It got worse. And the hub of the rim was bloody hot.

Alright. That’s it. This rally was not so important to risk my life for it. I checked my options and phoned a car rental in nearby Siegen. Luckily they had a Mercedes Sprinter left and one hour later I rode the XBR into the van. On the way home, I informed the rally master and went through my options.

I still had an old XBR in the shed that I could cannibalise…I could fix it and return the next day as promised. So I did. After return to Belgium, I pulled the spare XBR out of the shed and removed the rear wheel. Then I did the same with the grey XBR. The wheel play was spectacular. When I removed the axle, removed the wheel and inspected the parts, the problem evident: the wheel bearing cages were destroyed, but the problem had probably started somewhere else: the sprocket wheel bearing. It had given in first which resulted in a play between sprocket base and the rim. Slowly, it destroyed the bearing completely and damaged also the wheel bearings.

With the help of the spare parts bike, I managed to exchange everything, the bike was ready to go again. The next morning, I returned to Siegen and returned to Belgium on the XBR. I learned that that my plan would have been sufficient for first place, but I have won so many rallies that it doesn’t matter. Safety first.

Later, I finally discovered a website that would sell the right rear sprocket with the right geometry. I purchased it and today I replaced the whole kit.

This seems to be the right gear ratio now, the bike seems to ride “normal” in the first short test. All in all, a fantastic bike. My explanation is the the wrong sprocket resulted in a permanent pulling of the chain that made the sprocket bearing surrender. Not a bike for the long haul like the black one, but fantastic for short, intense rides in the Alps. That’s the main purpose.

In the meantime, I had some issues with the K1600GT’s front. But this for another story.

I had not set an alarm and got up at half past seven. In the restaurant hall, the tour groups were already choking down their breakfast. For some strange reason I had to think of locusts…Before leaving, I had an issue to resolve. Yesterday, during a short stop, I received a phone call from booking.com telling that my hotel in Reykjavik had cancelled my reservation. They offered me an altertive that I should confirm. I had a quick look and said yes by e-mail. I sent three messages in increasing urgent tone asking for a confirmation. I received nothing. In the end I called the new hotel myself. Yes, the had received my name, everything was ok. Good, so I had a place to stay. This was important. I had checked the internet and discovered that Reykjavik was sold out! Well, unless you want to pay 500 quid for a nice suite….

I set off at nine and my first destination was not far away: Dyrhólaey, an extension of yesterday’s beach. The sea has formed holes into the rocks, forming arches. The area is also important as a reserve for the local bird population. The was a track to the voewpoint of the great arc, but it was closed for construction…

Today I experienced a more typical Icelandic weather: cloudy with some rays of sunshine and later some short showers. I continued my ride along the south coast. The landscape was changing again. I had not planned a stop there, but the setting was beautiful, so I decided to make a stop at the Skógafoss. Definetely a good idea. The waterfall is very beautiful and I played around with the Halide app if I could change the settings in rhe right way (longer exposure times). I should have tried at home. So I took more or less ‘normal pictures’. Anyway, a very pretty waterfall.

I moved away from the coast and rode inlands. I arrived at the Gullfoss, one of the iconic Icelandic waterfalls. Well, it is big, but I honestly had expected some ‘more’. On the other hand, it would be unfair to compare it with bigger streams like the Niagara Falls or the Victoria Falls that I had the pleasure to visit.
Anyway, when you think that all the water comes from a melting glacier, it IS impressive. In the adjacent shop, I found a country sticker for my pannier that I placed immediately.

The next stop was not far away: Geysir. Yes, this is the mother of all geysirs. I parked the bike and strolled up the hill, surrounded by hordes of tourists. This seems ti he downside of the enormous popularity of Iceland: buses spit out masses of tourists at the touristic spots. In between, there is quietness when riding.

I entered the restaurant/shop complex and acquired two sandwiches for lunch. I never had a lamb sandwich before, a very good idea!

The next stop was again a geological one. Kerið is a crater lake that formed when the magma chamber of a volcano collapsed and a little lake was formed by rhe ground water. In this cloudy weather, the colours were not that strong, but it was good enough for some good pictures. I walked around on the top of the caldera, avoiding too much movement. In this cool climate, a warm gear is great, but when you have to walk, you overheat in no time.
This was the only place where I had to pay an entrance fee.

Now The weather was a mix of of sunny spells and short showers. In entered the Þingvellir National park area, riding through a landscape of bushes and small trees. This is probably rhe closwst you get to a forest here. I arrived at the visitor centre and topk some pictures from the lake. Thingvellir is a special place on Iceland. The lake is the largest in Iceland, home to many species. Geologically, it is located on the rift between the European and the American plate that are constantly moving apart (geologically, but maybe as well politically).

In the centre, I visited the exposition on the importance of the place as a ‘thing’, or better ‘alþing’, the old Germanic place to hold frequent tribunals to settle disputes and to speak law. The ‘Althing’ meant that this was the supreme court of Island for almost a millenium. At this place, the independent Islandic Republic was declared in 1944. All in all, a place embedded in Islandic history.

I only had a lasr descent to Reykjavik in front of me. Close to the city, I filled up and checked my oil. I topped up the chain lubricant and checked the tyre pressure. After 920 km riding in Iceland, I discovered a novelty: red lights!!! And some Friday evening rush hour. I took a little detour through rhe city centre and arrived at the hotel. The reception was very friendly and I was told that the stay was already pre-paid (a gift from booking.com?). I had a shower and lefr for a walk through the small city centre. It is very nordic, but cozy and apparently lively.

I walked to the restaurant I had booked – albeit one hour too early. Luckily, this was not a problem. It was the restaurant ‘Matur og Drykkur’. In Iceland, many places are simply describing what they are. Like in this case, ‘eating and drinking’. Plain, simple. They serve a six course meal and I ordered wine pairing as well pairing as well. All in all, it was very good, using local ingredients. The sea weed tempura was surprisingly good, the roasted lamb divine. I was positively surprised by the Snorri No.10 beer, this is up to the level of a good Belgian Triple! I had the impression that someone must have given a very good recommendation in an American travel guide as almost all guest seemed to be Americans; except the Catalan couple next to me who thought that nobody could understand them. Well, I could. Luckily, the noise increased so I could not overhear their private conversation anymore.

I walked back to the hotel, making a stopover in the centre. In a bar, a live jazz band was performing very well and I discovered that they sold a Talisker 18 years for a reasonable price (considering this was Iceland). I had a dram in front of the bar and continued typing this report.

Reykjavik is the northernmost capital in the world, and a small one. A few minutes later, I was back at the hotel. It’s a small, but nice city.

I’m afraid that tomorrow, I’ll be running out of luck: in the afternoon, some heavy rain will cross my way. The northwest is my destination now.

I had a rather frugal breakfast in the somewhat shabby hotel and set off at a quarter pass nine. I passed the “Men at Sea” like the evening before and decided to join them for a minute.

My plan was to go up north at the west coast of Jutland, riding on back roads next to the sea. My first stop was at the ‘Tirpitz Museum’, a bunker of the WWII ‘Atlantic Wall’. It was never finished, but had it, its cannon on top would have had a range of 55 km. The bunker was spectacular, but the museum was a mixture of the history of the bunker, a very simplified summary of the war, local history and information about amber. Very modern and multi-media, but quite family-friendly and on the light side. Despite the hefty entrance fee, I had quickly done my tour and set off north.

I went mostly near the coast, sometimes only separated from the sea by large dunes. In Hvide Sande, a popular tourist resort, I encountered a sort of traffic jam. 

I stopped and crawled over the dune to have a look the sea. The wind was quite strong today, a good training for Iceland. 

In Thyborøn, I needed to take a ferry to cross that little gap. I passed all the cars and waited in the front to be called, the boarding was already ongoing. I made it on the ferry and parked the bike on the side stand. I climbed up some stairs to have a better view. The crossing is not very long and the sea was rather calm, apart from the wind. Yet the boat started to seesaw strongly – in a worrying way. The captain reduced speed and got it under control again. There was some noise behind the van where my bike was parked. People were calling for a motorbiker. Not good! I was the only one on the ship. Apparently, the bike had dropped and someone put it upright. I could tell by moved mirror, I had to fix it again. Luckily, nothing else was affected or broken.

I continued my ride along the pittoresque coast and decided in Agger to have a small snack. I ordered a Pølsermix, believing it to be a small hot dog dish. I received an enormous plate with chips and sausages, enough to feed an army. I had to leave big part of it, I was not in the mood for that amount of junk food.

I passed Denmark’s largest National Park Thy and stopped in Halstholm to get some needed commodities in a grocery store.

I realized that my chain lubricant consumption was a bit higher and regretted that I left the big bottle at home; I reduced the flow of the Scottoiler and concluded that I could always use motor oil as a second best option. My next stop was Blokhus at the coast, for a particular reason. It’s a nice touristic town and I was surprised that I could ride onto the beach. This was unexpected!

But my real intention was to find the main attraction of the town, I had apparently rode past it, so I had to go back. And then I found it…

Very impressive! Luckily, I could take a picture of the data, so I don’t have to type them 😇

I was considering to make a trip to Skagen, the Northern tip of Denmark but I realized this would get too late today and I didn’t arrive late at the hotel. So my next stop should be the last one for today. It was the Rubjerg Knude Lighthouse, situated in/on a large dune. I had read that it had been moved 300 m recently (!) to save its existence as the waves eat sand for breakfast.

I parked the bike as close as possible to the lighthouse that could be spotted far in the distance. I noticed that there was a kind of tourist trap about to set off to the dunes: a tractor with a trailer to transport lazy tourists. How lame is that, you might think, but it turned out that the 5 Euros for this return trip were the best investment in a long time. During the ride, I realized that the lighthouse was about 2 km away, this would have been a torture in warm motorbike gear. Almost Alpenbutt-esque, haha (this joke is for the knowing).

The tractor set off and it quickly turned out that this was fun: the guy went off-road up and down, criss-crossing through the dunes:

We were awaited by some sheep who were begging for a treat. The farmer would return in 40 minutes, this should be enough time to discover the area. I climbed up the dune and enjoy the fantastic views. I wondered how they could move the entire lighthouse in one go. Unbelievable.

On the bumpy, but entertaining way back in the trailer I realized that any attempt to walk to the dune would have been led to spontaneous self-combustion of my body due to overheating. It was also evident that the detour to Skagen was totally out of question now.

Only 25 km left to the hotel; as usual, watching Shawn makes me smile….

I quickly found the hotel in Hirtshals and the petrol station next to it. I saw the first off-road van and realised that I was at at the hub to Iceland.

I checked into the hotel and was quite miffed when I learned that the restaurant would not serve me dinner tonight. I had reserved the hotel particularly because it had a restaurant, so I didn’t enter the centre of town, and now they wouldn’t be accommodate, asking at 7 p.m. Nope. OK, plan B. I didn’t fancy to take a shower and then to ride anywhere, so I just rode without the hygiene stop. I stopped at a restaurant with a terrace and ordered something that sounded interesting….seafood “tapas”! A massive platter and a lot of work (35 min!)

I returned to the hotel and finally had my shower, after all I rode more than expected, some 410 km in the wind and sun made me feel tired.

This morning, after breakfast, I met an acquainted coupled from my home town in front of the hotel. How probable is that! We had a chat, they take the ferry to Norway. I went to the harbour and waited until it was my turn for check-in. In the hour before that, I chatted with some bikers in the queue. The amount of off-road, hardcore 4×4 cars is impressive. They will go where I won’t: the rough tracks in the interior of the island. I’d need another bike for that.

In the ship, we motorbikes had to strap our bikes, carrying the luggage to the cabin usually lets the sweat flow, but finally I’m in my cabin….only to find out that I hadn’t been cleaned! The receptionist made a walkie-talkie call: “housekeeping, we have a surprise cabin on deck 6, I repeat, ….” I waited sitting on the floor until my home for two nights was finally ready.

I found a relaxing spot where I could rest a bit until the restaurant was opened.

I had pre-booked all my meals, something that I rarely do. But as everything is breathtakingly expensive, pre-booking gets some discount and I need some food anyway. It sounded not like a large meal – “two sandwiches and a snaps”, but it was a good portion and the quality was very good, including the aquavit from the Faroer.

Later I discovered the Laterna Magica Bar with a fantastic view where I am writing the whole time. They have seats and sofas, what a great idea!

In the end, I spent the afternoon in the Panoramic lounge. I have slow internet, but the upload speed is not enough to post pictures. I hope that I will catch some phone signal on Faroer Islands.

(Indeed, after fixing some issues, I could upload it in Torshavn, the tiny capital of the Faroer Islands).

In the evening, I had an unspectacular dinner in the buffet restaurant. It’s a quiet boat trip. 

On the morning of the first day I took it easy, packed the last missing things and set off for a smooth ride on motorways at a quarter to ten. Soon after I crossed the Dutch border, I was passed by three Belgians on BMWs. This is not remarkable as such, I was in a relaxed mood and decided to go at 110 – 120 km/h the whole day. The second rider had a personalised number plate named ‘Siberia’. Was this their destination? I could give them some advice…

I knew that some rain would come in Northern Germany, so I put on the rain gear very early. The predicted rain was not very heavy though and I lost quite some time in road works on the A1 where no filtering was possible. Later I passed Bremen and proper sunshine came back although accompanied by a strong wind. I was joined by my lucky charm – Shawn, the Black Irish sheep. He has joined me through America and Russia, not to speak of many places in Europe. I had washed him in winter and attached him safely behind the windscreen. When in motion, his arms and legs are happily flapping around so it looks as if he’s really enjoying the ride. Every time I look at him, it puts a smile on my face. 🙂

The last 60 km I had to go on nice country roads though the ‘Altes Land’, heading towards the Elbe and the coast. I was about to take off my rain gear when I spotted some dark clouds at the horizon. I left it on and indeed, 6 km before my today’s destination, the rain poured down. When I arrived at the house of Michael and Christiane, I took off my rain suit and….was completely soaked??? This kept me thinking for a while. I couldn’t find a hole….that’s not good news for the rainy climate in Iceland!

My visit was long overdue, for many years actually. So we had much to talk about and the rain did not invite to leave the house. We had a nice meal together, they both are fantastic hosts and I crawled into the bed only after midnight…(there’s a song for every occasion, right, Michael?😄)

I got up not too early the next morning and we had a sumptuous breakfast together. I knew I didn’t have to go far today so I was not in a hurry. I filled up and hoped I would stay dry until I would reach the ferry across the river Elbe. This plan only worked for the first 5 km. Luckily I could pass the long line of waiting cars and roll directly on the ferry. The “Elbfähre” is the only crossing west of Hamburg, connecting Lower Saxony with the Western shore of Schleswig.

At the other side, I did not have to ride wrong very long – a second visit was due. This time it was Ralf and his wife Kirsten. You would think the North of Germany is flat, flat, flat – but they live on the slope of a small mountain that provides them with a view over the low lands.

Ralf joined my first XBR Alpentour in 1994 and was riding a lot with me in subsequent years. He is proof that you can pass many, stronger bikes in the Alps with a heavily under-maintained XBR, failing breaks or many other shortcomings…

The picture at the left is from the epic XBR Alpentour in 2003 when he demonstrated that you don’t need ANY fork oil to master gravel passes in the Alps…

Kirsten made some tasty “Bauernfrühstück” and Ralf and I had a lot to chat about, after all we didn’t meet so often recently. I had never been to this place (no surprise, being up in the North), so it was another, long overdue visit. Much later than planned, I started the XBR again.

Well, the rest of the day was set: going up north on the B5 and crossing into Denmark, leaning into the strong wind. I had enough time left, so I could visit a rapid antigen test centre near Esbjerg. Last week, Iceland decided that a certificate of full vaccination would not be enough to enter the country, I would need another negative RAT (rapid antigen test) result. After some cueing, the testing and 15 min waiting time, I received my certificate. I filled up the bike and topped up the oil, all ready for tomorrow. I entered Esbjerg and check into my hotel. Remarkable here: the receptionist wears a pair of braces and a bowler hat and has a quirky humor. Maybe he’s a fan of Clockwork Orange….(should I be worried?).

In the shower, I tested if the rain suit had a leak, but I couldn’t detect any. I had a good dinner in a nearby restaurant with Tuborg beer from the tap. Rib Eye steak with a freshly prepared Sauce Béarnaise. Being used to Belgian restaurant prices does immunise you a bit when exposed to Scandinavian prices. You realize you’re in Scandinavia when you confess to the waiter that you have left your wallet in the hotel and propose to get it from there and he only replies: “yeah, all right”.

Tomorrow will be another relaxed day along the coast as my destination (Hirtshals) is only 330 km away.