Part 33 - Departure for Europe 28 May 2019

Europe Blog Part 1

The days leading to departure were filled with fun family events. It was a triple celebration. My parents, Don and Maureen, were turning 90 years old and had shared 65 years of marriage. My brother, Jack, had flown in from California for the week. Rob, the youngest sibling, and his daughter Iris had Jack and me over for a steak dinner on Thursday. The steaks were delicious and it was fun for us all to catch up. We would see my sister, Maureen at the big affair on Saturday. The next night Rose, Isabelle’s mother, had a farewell dinner for Isabelle and I at her house. Isabelle’s brothers and their wives joined us at Rose’s house. David and Lise, Charles and Fiona and of course Rose wished Isabelle and I Bon Voyage once again. We were going to Europe!

Mum at the Celebration Dinner

Dad and Isabelle at the Celebration Dinner

On Saturday the Porters and friends of Don And Maureen got together at the Culinary School restaurant at Algonquin College for the big celebration. The food was well prepared and the service was refined and discrete. Everyone had a great time and things continued back at Mum and Dad’s house not far away.

Gabi, Terry, Isabelle, Emma at the Celebration Dinner

The day before departure, Isabelle and I went downtown to cheer on our daughter, Gabi as she ran her first half-marathon. Isabelle, our oldest daughter Emma and I moved from point to point on the route to encourage Gabi and the other runners. We enjoyed being there for Gabi but also being part of the supportive atmosphere at a running event. Gabi finished the race within the time she had planned, full of a sense of accomplishment.

The next morning, Monday the 28^th of May 2019, Isabelle and I loaded the motorcycles and set off for Montreal. Isabelle’s good friend Deirdre came at 9 o’clock to say goodbye, exactly as she had done two years earlier before the South America trip. The weather was the same too, cold and rainy. Deirdre’s embrace warmed us for the road ahead.

The bikes were almost the same. I had made a few small modifications to them after the South American journey. The luggage system was similar but much lighter than the one we used in South America. The addition of new crash bar bags brought the weight of small, dense items forward and low. Isabelle’s bike enjoyed the added safety of forward pointing auxiliary LED lights. We still used hard paniers, despite the injuries they had caused in Ecuador and Argentina. We expected almost all the roads on our European itinerary to be paved and hoped for an injury free trip this time.  We valued the security gained by being able to lock them.

The top boxes were empty. We would use them to store our helmets when grocery shopping. I had also wired my top box with a new 12-volt circuit that would give us a waterproof charging station on-the-go. A single waterproof bag on the pillion seat completed a load that was 75 % lighter than the previous trip and, most importantly, one that disturbed the motorcycles’ designed centre of gravity far less. There were no spare tires this time. The bikes felt light and nimble without a hint of top-heaviness.

We encountered Alain and Francoise in the Air Canada Cargo parking lot. Isabelle had been following their travel blog. They were finished checking in their motorcycle and would be taking the same flight to Paris as us the next day. We also met a man who was shipping his moto to Europe but on a different flight. He had seen the presentation of our South American trip Isabelle and I had given at the moto-overlanders’ conference in Ontario the previous year. We would begin our European adventure by giving the same talk at the HUBB UK conference in Wales.

Just Before Weighing In at Air Canada Cargo

Checking in the motorcycles with Air Canada Cargo was easier than expected. I was told that only motorcycle related gear could be shipped attached to the motorcycles. It had been the same when we shipped the bikes from Buenos Aires to Miami. That first time we used the services of a local freight agent who specialized in motorcycle shipping. We bought cardboard boxes in Buenos Aires, sized to the maximum allowed for a checked bag. We placed our personal and camping gear in the two boxes and two large bags then checked them for free with Avianca, the Colombian airline that still allowed two free checked bags per person. We had a lot of stuff!

This time I shipped the bikes myself to save the $100US fee we paid the shipping agent for each one in Argentina. Things couldn’t have been simpler. I brought both bikes into the warehouse entrance and set about unloading things. I had strapped two huge cardboard boxes on the bikes and brought them all the way from Ottawa. I had test packed them at home and was prepared to pay $96CDN for each one as a checked bag on our flight. Air Canada did not allow free checked bags any more.

Isabelle and I packed all our personal belongings into two carry-on sized backbacks. At that point the warehouse worker asked me to push the bikes onto the scales. And that was that; everything that was still on the bikes stayed there and was shipped inside the paniers! We had carry-on bags and nothing to check.

The Dangerous Goods inspection was next. I had contracted with a company to send an inspector to meet us at Air Canada Cargo. His inspection was expensive ($280CDN each) but a requirement for any air shipment of a motor vehicle. The inspector provided me with two sets of papers. The second set was for the return shipping, whenever that would be. He showed me where to fill in the place and date on the completed forms. The Dangerous Goods inspection was followed by one from Security. The security agent had me push the bikes to another section of the warehouse close to a large x-ray machine. His inspection was courteous, lengthy and thorough. Nothing was left untouched. He had me identify unfamiliar items like brake pads and stove parts. I felt reassured about flight safety in general after witnessing his inspection. At the agent’s direction, I pushed the bikes to one last place, a locked room inside the secure zone to await loading onto skids by the handlers.

The airport hotel we stayed in provided a shuttle service to the terminal. We ran into Isabelle’s brother Charles at the Montreal airport. He had begun the slow process of retiring from his business of instructing corporate executive coaches. He was negotiating the terms of sale of his international coaching school but had been called suddenly to teach in England.  It was a fun chance encounter.

Bumping Into Charles at the Airport

The flight to Paris was uneventful. We landed in brilliant sunshine at 8:30 in the morning, Paris time. We took a taxi to Air Canada Cargo located on the far side of the airfield. There we met Alain and Francoise again. The four of us went through procedures together. The paperwork was easy and Customs offices for freight were in a neighboring building. Sorting out gear and repacking it on the bikes took the most time. We got away at 12:30 and rode a short distance to the Ace Hotel in Roissy, a suburb of Paris. Later, we walked into town to pass the afternoon and for dinner. Eight-thirty was as late as we could last before jet lag forced us to bed.

A Proud Air Freight Handler in Paris

Taking Possession of the Motos in Paris

The roads to Calais we chose avoided entering Paris because we didn’t have environmental stickers for the bikes. The route was slow and wound its’ way through tiny villages and through luxurious croplands. It was both charming and exciting and it was what we had come to Europe to see! We planned to take the ferry from Calais to Dover, slowly making our way to the conference in Wales.

The White Cliffs of Dover Seen from the Ferry

Why Paris? Why not simply fly into London? When I booked the flights in December, Brexit was a big unknown factor. Entering Gatwick Airport with two motor vehicles to temporarily import immediately after a “Hard Brexit” was something to be avoided, in my mind. I envisaged confused British Customs Agents in a Gatwick warehouse facing each other, palms upturned to the sky saying, “What do we do with these two people and their motorcycles? What are the rules now?” It seemed simplest to import the bikes to Europe in Paris, a commonplace event, and try a ground (actually water) entry into the UK. If we were turned back we would simply change our itinerary and start with mainland Europe. We would not be stuck in legal limbo in a warehouse at the airport in London. A few days before our flight, the UK was granted an extension until the 31^st of October to come up with a Brexit strategy. This development made my Paris plan unnecessary but six months had then passed since I bought the airline tickets.

Dover Campsite Overlooking the Channel

Village Church Near Dover

Two days later Isabelle and I enjoyed a sunny breakfast in a Dover campground. We had an uninterrupted view of the English Channel across a wide expanse of lawn. The green of the English countryside was as intense as I had remembered it to be, the smell of the earth too. Driving to the campground on the wrong side of the road had been challenging. Despite extensive mental preparation and visualization, a lifetime of habit was tough to get past. Traffic was thick and fast and British drivers were unforgiving toward any hesitation.

View from Dover Castle's Keep

Our jet lag was getting better and a new energy filled us. Dover Castle was a full day event. The site was extensive with many buildings and actors who animated various events that had occurred at the castle. The area had been used for thousands of years. There was a Roman built lighthouse from 41 A.D. beside a Catholic church that was built in the year 1000. King Henry II built a lavish keep in the medieval style with squared features instead of more easily defended rounded features. The design was intended to associate King Henry with powerful leaders of the past; its’ message was, “I like this style. I am so powerful that I don’t need modern castle designs. My enemies can’t even get close to me.”

Dover Castle Walls

A Knight Patiently Awaits King Henry II Outside Dover Castle. (He is recruiting for the first crusade.) 

Charles II had Thomas Beckett murdered inside Canterbury Cathedral. This caused Charles to lose face with Catholics and led to the beginning of pilgrimages to the place of Beckett’s death. Charles, wishing to reverse his position, built Dover Castle to greet visiting foreigners in a grand style. The castle’s strategic location caused it to be used throughout history as a defense point and not a showcase for visitors. In WW2, British Naval Command bunkered in the castle’s extensive tunnel network, inside which the retreat from Dunkirk was orchestrated.

Roman Lighthouse Beside Thousand Year Old Church

Naval Command OPS Room in the Bunkers at Dover Castle

We decided to stay in Dover for one more day. We hoped that more physical activity would help to get rid of lingering jet lag. A cliff hike that overlooked the Channel seemed just right. We had English fish and chips for lunch in a pub on the beach at St. Margaret’s at Cliff. The sun continued to shine and we enjoyed panoramic views all along the way.

St. Margaret's at Cliff

First day in England

The next morning we rode into the city of Canturbury. Stories of rampant motorcycle thefts inside Britain caused us to think twice about parking loaded motos inside the city so we checked into a campground outside the city. After setting up the tent we went on a shopping trip. We bought a thick, heavy chain and adopted the British method of chaining the bikes to an embedded hard point in the pavement. Some grocery shopping and lunch in a nice pub finished off the afternoon.

Our friend George from Ecuador wrote and proposed a ride together for the coming weekend. He lived in London but we planned to be touring Devon and Cornwall on the weekend he proposed. We would be long gone from the London area by then. We agreed to get together on our return to the UK in a few months’ time.

Altar Below the Second Transept, Canterbury Cathedral

The morning walking tour of Canterbury was informative. We spent the afternoon visiting the Cathedral where we learned more about Thomas Beckett and saw the spot where four of King Henry’s Knights had murdered him. Beckett (The Archbishop of Canterbury) and the king were in a dispute over the roles of church and state. No one is sure if Henry ordered the killing or if the Knights had simply been overzealous in their desire to pleas the king. We saw the tomb of the “Black Prince” (1376) above the second transept. The church has two transepts and is built in a mixture of styles using Romanesque outer walls with Gothic inner arches. Uniformity of the exterior was maintained during various repairs or replacements of the two front towers. This work was always done in the Romanesque style. The central bell tower containing, “Bell Harry” (1583) is Gothic; its’ base opening inward below to a fan vaulted space above the first transept. The height and grace of that space command the observer’s eye to look up toward heaven.

Fan Vaulting Below Bell Harry Tower

Did Disney animators get inspiration from Canterbury Cathedral? Look at the features of the upturned faces.

Tomb of the Black Prince

The Corona Chapel at the far end of the Cathedral was built to display the top dome (the corona) of Beckett’s skull. The corona has much religious symbolism (halo, brain, tonsure) and was thought to contain the centre of intellect and wisdom. Beckett’s shrine and all his relics are thought to have been burned by King Henry VIII. Henry felt that icons, effigies and relics were merely superstitions and should be disposed of. Beckett’s popularity was also tough competition for a monarch. Today, the shrine is represented by a single candle kept burning on a bare paving stone at the top of the cathedral.

The Single Candle that Represents Thomas Beckett

Tea Time for a Happy Boy

A full day of riding brought us to Stonehenge Camping and Glamping Pods where we pitched out tent for the night. Internet research that night showed us how to visit the archeological site for free and without trespassing. The following day we hiked 11 kilometers along National Trust walking paths and across fields filled with cattle and sheep. Gates had signs that read, “Livestock inside. Please close the gate behind you.” There were numerous information plaques along the way with drawings, photos and explanations of things Druid. 

Woodhenge, near Stonehenge

The hike toward Stonehenge

Vines Around a Tree in a Tree Circle, "The Avenue"

The trail began at the parking lot for Woodhenge and mostly followed the ancient “Avenue” that led to Stonehenge. We passed burial mounds and tree circles. It was a pleasant, easy walk through the English countryside to the site of the enigmatic stone piles. We had the same views of the attraction as those who paid $40 each to visit the site.

Stonehenge

It rained all the next day for the ride to Penzance. The wind was fierce at the coast and reminded us (only a little) of the wind in Patagonia. We later learned that it had been a significant storm through which we had ridden. We arrived at our planned campground but it was completely in the open, deserted and desolate in the storm. I could barely see the other side of the field through the rain and the gloom. We just couldn’t bring ourselves to put up the tent so we checked into a backpackers’ hostel in the town of Penzance. It was warm, dry and reasonably priced. We stayed two days.

St. Michael's Mount (Note causeway access at low tide only)

Lavender at Low Tide

Penzance Harbour

St. Michael’s Mount was at the entrance to Penzance Harbour. We had lunch in Marazian, local steak pie. It looked like a larger version of an Argentinian empanada. Its’ filling and spices were of course completely different. Isa took a photo of it and sent it to our friend Pedro, a young lawyer in Gobernador Gregores, in Argentine Patagonia. He loved empanadas and had introduced Isabelle to them. The restaurant at the hotel where Isabelle spent her recovery from her second broken ankle had kept them on hand especially for Pedro even though they were not on the menu. Our hiking total for the day was 17 kilometers. Conditions had been cloudy and cool. We enjoyed several good chats back at the hostel with British travellers.

Courtship Display and Playing Coy

Two days of riding in the rain brought us to a campground near Swindon. The managers, Neil and Jane, invited into the warm office for tea that night and the next morning. They shared their kitchen with us and gave us breakfast. They were so kind. They gave us recommendations for campgrounds throughout the UK. Neil and Jane’s warmth and kindness served to eliminate any negative feelings we had experienced regarding the indifference we had felt from many British people thus far. We were also out of the densely populated south where one feels constantly in someone else’s way.

Neil and Jane

My bike wouldn’t start in the next morning’s constant rain. It just went, “Tick.” I connected my jumper battery. The starter just went, “Tick.” I disconnected the bike’s battery to eliminate it as a cause. Using just the 12 volt jumper battery I tried the starter and was rewarded this time with an immediate, “Badum!” sound followed by normal idling. I reconnected everything normally and tried the starter. “Badum!” made my heart jump again. I reinstalled the battery and we rode off thinking, “Maybe it had just been a computer glitch.”

It rained all the next day as we searched for The Mill House where I had lived for two years as a boy. I mixed up town names and tried to summon faint geographic memories. We did find and visit White Horse Hill. A nice lunch at the Prince of Wales pub in Shrivenham warmed us up before we abandoned the search for the Mill House and set off in the rain for Wales. I vowed to get in touch with my mother for more details. We plan to pass through the area again on our way back to France.

Plaque at Top of White Horse Hill

(Dad attended classes at Shrivenham College.)

We checked into Baskerville Hall in Wales, the inspiration for Arthur Conan Doyle’s, The Hound of the Baskervilles. The HUBB UK moto-overlanders’ conference was being held there and we were scheduled to speak about our South American trip. We had signed up for camping but Susan Johnson, one of the organizers, offered me a good rate on a room out of the rain for five nights. I jumped at the chance.

Conference at Baskerville Hall

Sculpture on the Lawns at Baskerville Hall

A Classic Overlanding Motorcycle at the Conference