Around The World

I originally set off with my friend, Becky Lincoln, for a simple trip to India, and now, five years later, I am on my fifth continent.

Here is how it happened... I originally set off with my friend, Becky Lincoln, for a simple trip to India, and now, five years later, I am on my fifth continent; I obviously took a wrong turn somewhere.

The Journey Ahead…
The 12,000 miles from Dead Horse, Alaska to Tierra del Fuego, Argentina will encompass a wide variety of stunning natural environments as well as taking us through some of the most dangerous regions of the world. The route is mostly tarmac but with lots of opportunities for going off-road – something we now relish after our extreme off-road experiences in Africa and Asia.

Setting off once more...but on my own this time as the friend who was hoping to travel with me couldn´t make it after all. I´ve always travelled two-up on Thelma and so it will be a very different experience to be solo - particulalry after getting used to dozing off on the back for half the journey!

Vancouver was great, of course the air freight people had lost Thelma - apparently the pilot had taken one look at her and said she couldn´t go on his plane - and no I am not joking. After many phone calls across the Atlantic, in between getting up at 3.00am to watch the World cup football matches... she arrived 48 hours late which wasn´t too bad.
I just missed Grant and Susan when I popped round to see them - maybe another time, another continent you two.

A huge state with thousands of miles to travel in, glaciers, mountains, forests and the occasional town.
Siobhan had her first experience of riding a fully-loaded BMW with two people on it, yes it´s heavy but it´s well-balanced.
First we headed south to Seaward for its annual 4th of July celebrations where the whole town parties, in fact the town was so full that we had trouble finding a space to camp in- every available bit of land is turned into camping areas, luckily some local bikers called us over and made room for our tent.

With lots of fond farewells to my fellow passengers, I left the ferry, riding in convoy with the other bikes heading south - there had been a lot of persuading to join the majority of them who were heading to America´s biggest bike rally, but I had to decline and said maybe another year.
Just after Seattle, disaster struck when part of my engine blew, I managed with a lot of luck and some help to get myself and Thelma to Mick Vallantine´s workshop- Seattle´s Independent BMW guy and a fellow Brit.

Thelma was finally ready, one last evening at the George and Dragon for me and I was off - following the coast through Washington and Oregon - stunning coastline and a road that was made for bikes. The forest fires were going full-swing but I managed to avoid them. I reached San Francisco where there was a warm welcome from my friends there, they had been following my travels avidly and now, Janet (my friend´s Mum) spoke up, she said she wanted a bit of adventure in her life and so I invited her to join me for the trip down into Mexico.

I was on my way to an airport again, as Maggie, who had crossed Africa with me was flying into Guatemala City from Ireland for a month of riding through Central America. She looked very relieved to see me waiting for her - the last she had heard I was still in California and partying a bit.

Leaving Guatemala we headed to Honduras and the beautifulCaribbean beaches where we sipped Pina Coladas and tried to remember the words to the Pina Colada song.

We spent a couple of days on the volcanic island of Ometepe, skinny-dipping in Lake Nicaragua under a full moon. And yes Lake Nicaragua being the only place in the world where freshwater sharks live... but as I said to Maggie, after the bloody bears in Alaska, nothing can frighten me.

The shipping from Panama, amazingly, went without a hitch and I even managed to clear Thelma through customs in one day, with help from Ralph and Maryanne (from Australia) who happened to be on their bike in Quito at the same time as me. Ricardo had a shock when he met me; apparently he was expecting me to be a bloke...

Peruvian Police - a 'take no prisoners' attitude to fines/bribes was what I had heard from the other bikers - all of whom had been stung. So here I was having been pulled over on my first day in the country for speeding (who me??), I put on my best charm school act and managed to get away with it - along the lines of 'aah senorita...' In fact despite getting stopped twice more in Peru I never had to pay a penny.

Merry Christmas everyone and a Happy New Year wherever you will be spending it.
I am having a sunny Christmas down here in Santiago, Chile staying with friends and am planning to cook Christmas Dinner with all the trimmings. Having a hot Christmas is a bit of a culture shock as generally it tends to rain on Christmas Day where I come from.
I am attempting to catch up the last six months of travel for this site, though as the repairs to Thelma´s gearbox are taking longer than expected I don´t really have any excuses on that front. please be patient with me.

The month started with a welcome reunion with our second gear, Thelma and I had been coping without it since Quito - 4,000 miles and two months of travelling. I had quite got used to just kicking straight up into third gear but it had made the mud and dirt roads of Bolivia (never easy at the best of times) even more of a challenge.

On the road - Ruta Cuarenta or Route 40 as it is known in English, near El Chalten in southern Patagonia, Thelma clocked up her 100 000 miles today - a great moment and luckily I had bumped into Lance Wiggs (NZ on a 650GS) just 15 miles earlier and so he was able to witness and record the event.

Once I have worked out how to put the pics up I will do so.

Standing at the end of the Pan American Highway, complete with bottle of champagne in hand - many thanks to Carlo from Germany on his BMW R80 G/S, who was very patient about taking the photo in between me chatting to 80 tourists who had clustered around me; we eventually had to ask them to move out of sight for the photo

At last on 2nd February I arrived in Ushuaia - seven months and 18,259 miles after leaving Dead Horse.
It felt fantastic to finally get here- particularly as this is also the end of my fifth and final continent. The triumphant entry to the city was somewhat tempered by the fact that when I stopped at the first supermarket I saw to purchase the obligatory champagne, Thelma then refused to start and I had to be bump-started out of the carpark! Somehow a bit more fitting and apt as a reflection on my long, long journey.

Yes, a bit stuck as the simple (ish) engine stud helicoil job turned into a "Oooops, take a look at this rocker arm" - broken. So now I am trying to track down a replacement part here in Argentina.
Any ideas- please get in touch...

Meanwhile the cafe and bar culture of Cordoba is very appealing...

Finally Thelma was ready and I set off from Cordoba with just three and a half days to reach Sao Paulo - over 1500 miles away.
I was in such a rush as my sister and nephew are flying out to spend a month in Brazil with me.
I wasn´t taking the most direct route and went via Asuncion - a childhood board game had meant that I have dreamt about this exotic sounding city for many years.
Well, it was definitely exotic and VERY hot. I had a cold beer or two, stayed the night and then continued on my long ride to Brazil.

I have just had a fantastic month with my sister Abi and my nephew Claudio (aged 5 and my biggest fan). They arrived from England armed with family-sized bags of Salt and Vinegar Chipsticks and also 96 Jaffa Cakes (English biscuits) - a welcome taste from home.
So this BLOG entry is not about biking really as we took to the buses - it has made me appreciate travelling by bike all the more now -16 hours on a bus and I was pleading to be let off.

I was down to my final jaffa cake, I'd had four hours of Portuguese lessons (though the Brazillians still have a good snigger at my feeble attempts at their language), I had watched the Grand Prix on the telly - while quarter of a million locals trooped through the pouring rain to go and watch it in person at the course nearby and, most importantly Thelma´s gearbox seal was installed -
-- time to leave Sao Paulo

Seeing Rio by bike was great - can`t go wrong if I just follow the beach roads up and down the city I thought - hmmmm, that was until Sunday when all of those beach roads become one way, which led to a few tricky moments.

I reached Porto Seguro, where, by chance, there was a Bike Show - I was warmly welcomed as Star Guest - even though I did confess that I had no idea it was all taking place. I was in search of camping space - but was honoured to be given a bed in one of the organiser`s houses - I think they were appalled that their star guest would be camping.

Time to relax and so I went to the beaches at Itacare - white sand, coconut palms, clear sea, good company and cocktails at sunset- bliss.

Here I am now in Belem after a 5500kms ride along the coastline of Brazil. It is hot and humid (well, what did I expect??), but it feels good to be here.
The last two days on the road were tough due to the mud, I did point out that the wet season was officially supposed to have ended three weeks ago but no-one took any notice of me.

It was a relatively simple affair to get a ticket for the boat in Belem and the boat was much better than I expected - thank God I didn´t go for hammock class - similar to 3rd class trains in India, with ten hammocks in the space I would think only two should go. My cabin was small but clean and also cool as it had a fan - I shared it with a french backpacker, - they had assured me that they don´t allow mixed cabins so at least I didn´t have to worry about sharing with some amorous Brazillian bloke.

I set off from Manaus, after five days on the boat, riding with Ray (from Mexico) on his Harley Davidson - yes, it did look an odd combination, a BMW and a Harley travelling on the road north through the jungle. We crossed the Equator (my fourth time by bike) and stopped for a photo session - I am now officially back in the northern hemisphere, though the humid jungle around me didn't feel much like the northern hemisphere that I know.

...Cheap Petrol.

Yes folks I have reached that oasis of good fuel that only costs 4 cents a litre, and once more Thelma is purring away - the fuel in Brazil was not good to her.

Caracas is like Dodge City without the Sheriff, I saw an argument taking place yesterday and after noticing one of the guys (who resembled the plump sergeant from the Zorro TV series) tuck a gun into his shorts I made a hasty exit - not sure if my medical insurance covers me for getting shot - even by a stray bullet.

and I am not talking about the mad drivers -the Venezuelans manage to make the Brazillians look like good drivers.

Caracas has a a somewhat unsavoury reputation as an unsafe city (even by South American standards) and I have been commiserating with everyone else here at the backpackers' hostel as nearly all of them have had something happen to them - knives, guns, getting grabbed and pickpockets-

After searching the Horizons site and emailing various other travellers I know who have passed this way, I came to the sad conclusion that
a) no-one had shipped home to Europe from here
and
b) I was going to have to do it the hard way

A shipping agent was found and discarded at the last minute as they tried to double the price when I had reached the point of no return. But finally I had tracked down JJ Mari - shipper extraordinaire and also a bike rider himself - he made the shipping a straightforward and easy process (virtually unheard of in S America) and then before I knew it, having once more battled with the downtown Venezuelan traffic; I was strapping Thelma down on a pallet at the Lufthansa warehouse and saying goodbye to her.

Well, having got used to life in one place and acting as an unofficial agony aunt to others either on the road or considering their travels. I am not actually heading far this year, my wrist healed well - though the doctors did tell me off for the extra damage I had caused by riding for another 4 hours after breaking it - and yes it was a bit painful.
I'm off to Belguim next month -the Tesch Rally in Malmedy where I've been invited to give a talk - 17-19th April if there are any HU readers who might be heading there - it would be great to meet up.

I've been home for over a year now and so it is definitely time to get out and about once more...
so, where to go this time, well, I still have a vivid memory of when I was twelve and discovered that Timbuctoo was a real place - and NOT just a place name made up by grown-ups, I decided then, that one day I would go to Timbuctoo.

I crossed France with three other GS bike riders I had met on the ferry - also members of the UK GS Club, I relaxed and sat back as their GPS systems guided us down avoiding motorways, a luxury for me to just follow another bike and not be doing all the navigating myself. I was really lucky with the weather and had sunny days every day while travelling through France and Spain.

Well, I have fairly quickly arrived in sub-Saharan Africa and all in one piece.

I got here (Dakar) on my birthday which was also the day the Dakar Rally arrived in town and so we were weaving our way through the typically African virtually stationary traffic alongside the huge trucks and strange-shaped sand buggies, chatting to the British drivers as I passed them.

The ride down has been looooong and hot, almost completely on tarmac until Mauritania where it was time to hit the sand.

We got the Mali visas in Dakar and have been on the road for the last 4 days.

The first 80 miles in Mali- from Kayes (for those of you with an atlas) were bloody hard, it took us 24 hours. Hopefully the photos will do some of it justice as we had to scale some rock faces (I kid you not) and there was a particularly memorable moment when Ethel and I were in mid-air halfway up one rock face;

We finally wearily rode into town last night at 10 pm having had to negotiate the final 70 kms in the dark due to having been delayed by various problems - my chain jumping off the sprocket at one point, and something simple like trying to find a solid piece of ground to do repairs in the desert is not easy.
Then my headlamp fixings both broke -thanks to an earlier bodge job fix-it from Clive (when we were in Bordeaux 3 weeks ago) I knew all I needed to fix the headlamp was a piece of wire,

I am in Nouakchott and the sand storms are blowing. it's like being in thick fog but more painful.

Ethel and I limped into Mauritania from Mali -her suspension has gone - Ooooh yes, just 300 kms south of Timbuctoo so it has been a painful ride over hundreds of kms of corrugated dirt tracks and as for the sand - trying to steer though it while the bike is like a bucking bronco is almost impossible at times.

reached Nouakchott and relative sanity (as well as cold beer courtesy of the chinese restaurant- getting quite a liking for this rice beer)

Plan X
To rebuild the exploded battery in Nouakchott -as I had discovered that the replacement battery had turned out to be a dud and actually there are NO 12 volt batteries in this country. Loo and Gary (bike-riding friends from Cornwall) had arrived in Nouakchott with a tube of weld stuff and so the operation to rebuild was undertaken.

For several days now it has been Ethel to the rescue as first Tobi ran out of fuel and then got a puncture.
Whilst the major event of the last 2 days is that he has broken his gearbox - it happened on the desert highway - we then had an epic of a day (too long to go into here) involving a refrigerated lorry, the police and a team of Japanese people in a minivan.

Twenty four hours later and Tobi's bike went in the luggage compartment of a bus from Laayoune to Tangiers (about 1500 kms) he also took a bus, while I rode on through torrential rain - the frst rain I had seen since setting off six weeks ago, it turned some of the desert road into a quagmire of mud, the following day I was hit by vicious sandstorms, then the bolt on the broken shock absorber snapped - whoops!

It's been a while since I've hit the road - I was very ill (Stills Disease), in hospital for quite a while and then off my bike for a year , but I was one of the lucky ones and have made almost a full recovery- or at least enough to get back on Thelma and take off once more- this time destination Mongolia.
12,000 miles across Europe, the 'Stans and Russia to Outer Mongolia.

Having gone quite quickly across Europe to make the ferry out of Odessa, I am now relaxing by the coast in Georgia.

What can I say? The wine is good (a bit of trial and error at first), the beer is very good and the people are very friendly.
I have had my friend April with me - US diplomat who I stayed with in Rio, it's good to be able to return the hospitality favour and host her on an episode of bike travel in Georgia and Armenia.
She has loved it, even the mechanical issues and the coasting towards the border on petrol fumes when we got that crucial travel formula slightly wrong -you know the one- Fuel/Local Currency/Distance to Border.

It was a hectic five days
Five days without running water let alone electricity and internet and here is why...
I collected my Kazakh visa in Baku, Azerbaijan then made a dash for the ferry and my luck was in - straight onto it - the only other European had been waiting eight days...

I waved goodbye to Leon and his fridge, heading eastwards through Bukara and Samarkand- both as stunning as all the pictures and text suggest.
I manged to arrive in Tashkent 12 hours before Ann's flight was due from London which I thought was pretty good timing having crossed one and a half continents to get here. Ann (or Annie as she is also known) is due to travel with me until Mongolia - or until she gets tired of my singing on the bike.

A traumatic start to Annie's journey with me and here is how it unfolded-
Day One - only 30 mins later leaving the hotel than planned - the reception machine bounced back Annie's husband's credit card (nice gesture Terry, but we ended up having to pay cash).

Korjand to Dushanbe
Annie had thought things couldn't get much worse until she woke up the next morning and I issued her with a thermal balaclava, nearly losing one pillion rider to hypothermia in Armenia I don't want to risk another one.
I'd woken feeling better though weak and felt able to move on - not in any mood to hang around mad man's hotel if we could help it.

IN Dushanbe (Tajikistan capital) for several days as we waited for our visa extensions- a gentle lulling back to the comforts of civilisation such as running water, fridges with chilled drinks and the ultimate gastronomic high of a Lebanese restaurant serving felafel and hummus. Vegetarian food is not easy to find here and my excitement at spotting veggie kebabs at a open air restaurant was somewhat tempered when I also spotted the lumps of mutton fat threaded onto the skewers.

We had heard that the route we were taking would be challenging and they weren't wrong. First it was incredibly hot as we followed the river with 1000 metre cliffs on either side and no greenery anywhere except the very occasional oasis village.
The track deteriorated and was very tricky to ride with dried river beds to cross, some still with rivers to cross - I reminded Annie of the key point when crossing a river - keep your mouth shut as sometimes the water has a nasty habit of flying up and straight into the helmet.

We had reunions and rough riding along the Afghan border, as we encountered other travellers we'd previously met and tackled tracks that were steep and narrow and which were covered in sandy gravel. Our loose front indicator went flying off along one precipitous track, I had to retrace our route to find it. Not that indicators are any use out here as they are never used, but I know that in Kazakhstan and Russia, the police are very keen to pull foreign motorists over on the slightest pretext and a missing indicator will be a big bribe.

We had a final couple of days in Tajikistan staying at the remote town of Murghab - a very bleak place where there is nothing green and all the food has to be imported as nothing grows. It was a sociable time as first we saw Al and Dave from the 'Stan Clan, my Horizons bike riders' group- they are on a whirlwind ride through to Vladivostock (Pacific coast) via Mongolia and have just six weeks left to get there- which is a lot of hard riding.

Horseriding for a day though the world's largest walnut forest on horses that had wooden saddles, not the most comfortable of rides with my notoriously bony backside.

Riding some of the best roads I have been on - steep mountain tracks, challenging enough to be enjoyable and high enough to experience eagles swooping in at 3000 metres for a closer look at the bike

Tobi and Claus catching us up having ridden from Germany to Kyrgyrstan in nine days! just the thought of it is enough to make my backside go numb again.

A week of camping out at the lake has spoiled us- beautiful sandy beaches, clear turquoise water with no-one and not even any buildings in sight. We collected driftwood for camp fires at night, I must admit we were also spoilt as Leon and his trusty van and sidekick Iwan were with us and so we had lots of freshwater available from the gerry cans in the van and had done a lot of food shopping in preparation for camping.

It was hard but we finally made the break after several fantastic weeks. We followed a really picturesque valley road heading west away from Bishkek and with a couple of snow-covered 3000m mountain passes as a reminder of how cold we have been at times, It should be much flatter conditions from now on. A final lone Golden eagle flew over as we approached the border to Kazakhstan, but here we ran into a problem, the soldier wouldn't let us pass and announced Kazakhstan was closed.

One ride out with the local bike club and my clean sheet with the Kazakh police is wiped out as we all got pulled over en masse. Not really surprising as some of them were riding extremely fast. I know you are going to want to know what bikes were out with us - ummmm, not sure except the R1, the Africa Twin and a very fast BMW.
Luckily the police were not interested in me when they realised I was a foreigner.

We were ready to leave Almaty - having been helped a lot by Den and his bike workshop (www.2wheels.kz) as well as Fedor giving a hand with the front tyre - thanks guys.

Two battered looking cars pulled up at the hostel, Mongol Rally competitors, the onlookers who were watching in fascination as I serviced Thelma looked up and asked me about the cars, they were frankly astounded to hear that the cars were taking part in a race -

We are now about 100kms from the Russian border- can't be too precise as we are off our mapped universe so it is a bit of guesswork from here on in. Not having northern Kazakhstan didn't seem such an issue when we looked at our map back in England.

We had heard some horror stories about the Kazakh/Russian border, mostly from Mongol Rally competitors, who were giving dark warnings about seven hours spent just waiting in line etc. But in the event our fears were groundless, there was no queue as we crossed over accompanied by a Mongol Rally team from Sweden, we had plenty of food and water with us, however it took just two hours and we were done, into Russia, land of plentiful, cheap fuel (38 pence a litre), good roads and not bad food (so far).

Utterly exhausted after an almost non-stop ride from Almaty (southern Kazakhstan) that has taken us two weeks. Feeling exhilarated to have reached Mongolia after three and a half months and even better to have met up with old friends whom I haven't seen for seven years as we have always been on bike travels at opposite ends of the world - funny to meet up with them here in Mongolia.

Well it's been several days of catching up on my sleep, having long conversations with the other travellers here (at one point there were five bikes at the hostel) and trying to eat as much Black Forest Gateau as possible before I leave the luxuries and civilisation of the city.

As some of you will have heard, Ian's trip to Mongolia has not gone well. Two days into our trip heading East, I was riding when we hit a patch of mud which for some reason spun us out of control and flipped the bike over. We both came off, as the ultimate sacrifice I provided a soft landing for Ian but he damaged his shoulder (I am more or less OK, just a bit battered and bruised).

My guilt at feeling partially responsible for Ian's injury was eased a bit as I got up at the unearthly hour of 4.30am to accompany him to the airport this morning. He is coping well with his injury, although he has taken to the distressing habit of wearing his sandals a lot - even with socks so that he can do his shoes himself ( he is unable to tie shoelaces). He has some great bruises and one shoulder is at a funny angle and is much bigger than the other one giving him a hunched over appearance.

So if anyone is at Heathrow this afternoon, keep an eye out for Quasimodo.

With Ian safely home in England, I could now turn my attention to Thelma who had been languishing in a shed in Eastern Mongolia for a week. Arrangements were made that I would go with the watchman from the Oasis hostel where I've been staying, and that we would go in a pick-up truck.

The mechanic has done a good job and Thelma is restored once more to the slightly battered condition she was in previously- with a bit of a cosmetic surgery job done on the windscreen.
With my route being led by dozens of gerbils all leaping out of the way I mademy way southwards across Central Mongolia.

have searched the town and haven't been able to find any other bike travellers- or even any tourists except two, I was hoping to get info about the potential routes and roads(sandy tracks if I'm honest) ahead and I got some limited words of advice that if I follow the electricity wires to the north west of the town I will eventually reach the next settlement after 100kms.

Two days of being chauffeured around in a trusty Russian jeep which was fine until I looked under the bonnet and noticed it was all held together with bits of wire (and I don't even know much about engines).
Reminder to self, don't go lifting bonnets of vehicles you are travelling in unless you want a shock.

I am 24 hours later getting back to UB than I expected as...I got lost in the Gobi, not a huge drama (OK it is half a million square miles of nothing), but I realised I had gone too far East - I had not been concentrating on the track itself as I was having fun and challenging myself with riding a 280Kg bike on sand.Then when I looked up I thought "this doesn't look right", but kept going just thinking I was being paranoid as I'd had a couple of false "I'm lost" scares on the way down.

The rotor has gone on the alternator- this had been recently repaired but has now gone again and so currently I am waiting for DHL's finest to deliver a replacement rotor to me as quickly as they can.
I have got good company, some backpagkers and also Colebatch is in town - from the Sibirsky Extreme Project. He is my current roommate and has turned out to be as messy as I am.

Yesterday I visited the Christina Noble Children's Foundation- a charity that I have been raising money for - it was a very sobering experience, meeting some of the children they help and hearing about what some of them have been through, there seems to be quite a bit of child abandonment here - one boy was put on a train and his Dad jumped off again leaving him on it alone heading to UB, a lot of the children have been abused in one form or another.

I picked it up from DHL, got it fitted- huge thanks to Tony, Ray and the guys at LandDrill, especially the electrician for all your help.

Time for a final meal of dauphinoise poatatoes that I cooked at the hostel and we drank with red wine and I am on my way heading north to the border and then it's just the small matter of the 4000 miles to Vladivostock- word has reached me that October is considered winter in Siberia, and oh dear, today is 1st October.

Having spent several days riding non-stop and camping I am currently over a thousand miles from the Mongolian border and staying in a flat in Magdagachy, with several Russians hanging over my shoulder as I attempt to update my blog, I don't think I am going to get far.

The days are chilly for riding and although I have an electric jacket and gloves- an essential in these sub-zero temperatures, one of the gloves is not working at all and so I am having to ride one-handed whilst sitting on the other hand to keep it functioning.
The night in the flat was a different one- more details to follow, but one of the guys ended up robbing me and things have been a bit mixed since then.

Which is a milestone destination as it marks the far eastern reach of the Eurasian landmass. I have been dipping my toes in the Pacific Ocean and soaking up the sunny weather and unbelievably blue skies above the city.

It took a while for me to realise what warm weather is after crossing Siberia, and I have slowly removed the seven layers of clothing I was wearing under my jacket.

The journey across Siberia and beyond has not been without its problems and mishaps.

On the good ship M/V Rus Majur, with its fine complement of unsmiling waitresses and sleazy truck drivers. It has been quite an experience. Women are few and far between on these boats and after a few vodkas, the truck drivers obviously couldn`t see staright and made a beeline for us. I was sitting with Rebecca and Lorna who had arrived in Vladivostock on the Trans Siberian express, six days non-stop from Moscow. Rebecca the Kiwi also suffers from seasickness and was very interested in my accupressure wrist bands which work really well for me.

Unusually for heading east we had to put our watches back two hours after leaving Russia- I'm still trying to work that one out. The main disadvantage is that I was wide awake at 5.00am on my first morning in the tent. I met the others getting off the ship- the landcruiser was getting shooed away from every spot that it tried to park in, apparently there are a lot of restrictions for cars but not so with bikes as I had been leaving Thelma parked at all sorts of places in town.

I've had a few emails asking me what has happened that I have ended up in Japan when I was only supposed to be going to Mongolia and then heading directly home.

Well, I haven't managed to lose my way and arrive here by accident- always a distinct possibility when relying on Russian road signs. It has become Plan B.

Japan is an interesting country with some intriguing contradictions.

I took Thelma to the shipper's warehouse, this involved a ride through Tokyo's finest traffic jams. Lane filtering alongside the scooter boys and generally being first away at the lights meant I got through in just one and a half hours. I was pleased to find that the warehouse was expecting me - in fact they had a picture of me in A4 on the desk and held it up to show me- I was relieved to see it was one of the more flattering ones. I had a minor "discussion" with the shippers about removing my front wheel. And for once I lost the argument, unfortunately this means the wheel stays on.

I've travelled through extremes of temperatures on this journey but none more so than the other day in Baja California, Mexico. Although I had packed light for the trip down from LA, I had included my cashmere stuff from Mongolia and how glad I was. Crossing the Central Desert of Baja I think we must have been at a bit of altitude as it felt quite cold. I gradually added to the clothing I was wearing until I had six layers under my bike jacket (in Siberia it was seven) and I had my thermal balaclava on.

The plan was that I spend the two to three weeks whilst waiting for Thelma's ship to reach LA, visiting friends in the west of the States. However, having recovered from jet lag and Korean poisoning I met some of Erdem's friends including Savas from Istanbul and heard his travel story- h's trying to reach Tierra del Fuego by motorcycle from California. He set off southwards a few months ago and got hit by a pick-up truck in Mexico. He broke his leg and dislocated bones in his foot and so was out of action for quite a while. His bike wasn't so lucky and has had to be written off.

We have now managed to travel 1300 miles without falling out (or off). He has learnt quickly that :

Tiffany tired is not good

Tiffany hungry is not good

and Tiffany tired AND hungry must be avoided at all costs.

We've got to Puerto Vallarta, where he has a shared apartment and I am staying with my old friends Janet and Bruce Cohn for a couple of days. Janet already features on my rogues' gallery and I am working on her to get her to join me for part of the West Coast to East Coast journey next year.

After a great five days in Puerto Vallarta, we left this morning, waved off by Janet (who has agreed to ride again with me next year - she is now 70!), Bruce and the latest Travels with Thelma fans- Lana and Gary.

We have loaded the extra stuff onto Gullu, I was having a bit of a nose at the stuff that Savas had´picked up from his friend's apartment- including a Turkish flute. The bike is more loaded up now and we look quite funny clambering over the various stuff onto the back of it.

We have been travelling across Mexico at quite a pace since leaving PV and all is not well. The bike's name may well be Gullu/Rosie but it's not as rosy as my backside.

Due to a message I received from my shipping agent, we had to suddenly get a move on and dash for the border out of Mexico. This involved two days of hard riding through mountains and across the hot plains, being blown sideways by the katabatic winds and having a chance encounter with Jorge, a Colobian bike traveller on a Suzuki V-Strom., we fitted in time for a social chat over cold drinks in a shady cafe.

Having travelled over 2500 miles with Savas and Gullu it was time to say farewell as I walked back across the border into Mexico with my bike helmet in hand. We had learnt quite a bit from each other, I've introduced him to wild camping and off-roading, and also the concept of the "kitty" (shared money) and what a woman means when she says she is going to "powder her nose". From him I have learnt several words in Turkish, a better appreciation of Mexico and met many of his good friends in Puerto Vallarta who had helped him out so much after his accident earlier this year.

A gruelling 18 hour bus ride had taken me from the Guatemalan border up to the beautiful beaches of the Yucatan. Stumbling out of the bus station (still with bike helmet tucked under my arm), I jumped on a ferry to the Isla Mujeres, a small island off the coast of Cancun.

At the weekend, Ricardo Rocco got in touch, we'd last met on a five day off-road rally in Ecuador a few years ago, he is in town for a week and we met up at the Long Beach International Motorcycle Show in Long Beach. At the Show I was lucky enough to be introduced to (amongst others) Bill "Rocky" Mayer who creates state of the art, hand crafted motorcycle seats. Hearing my Princess and the Pea story about my bony backside and the KLR and noting the fact that Thelma is almost 18 years old (three weeks until her birthday) he has very generously offered to custom-make a new seat for me.

Unbelievably, snow has appeared on the hills around LA and the locals are all in shock at this Siberian-style weather, I feel it may be a sign that it's time for me to leave town.

Unfortunately though, Thelma has still not arrived, I've got all the Customs paperwork in place, and so she'll be stored here once the ship unloads. Chritmas at home is beckoning me, today I'm flying up to Seattle to catch up with friends there and then to England via that well-known hotspot - Iceland (the country not the supermarket).

Having acquired somewhat of a reputation for poor seasonal choice of destinations - Siberia in October and Death Valley in August both spring to mind, I managed to go one better and head to Iceland in December with the promise of an off-road ride as part of my stopover.

I had an unreasonably early morning call to get to the airport, after a late night eating turkish borek. I was flying out via Seattle to catch up with friends there, but as I was delayed 24 hours by order of the US Customs Department, I missed the "Welcome Back Tiffany" party in the George and Dragon pub, arriving in time to witness the bleary eyes and hangover of Mick and friends at Vallantine Motorworks. At least Shaun the dog greeted me warmly and definitely seemed to remember me from seven years ago

I've had a couple of emails from Confused of Camberley asking where on earth I am heading and what has happened to Thelma. One minute I'm bike travelling around Japan, the next I'm on a KLR in Guatemala and then I'm suddenly in Iceland.

I'm finally home (or at least for the moment). I've arrived back to find Arctic style weather conditions and to discover that the airline have lost my bag. This is a bit of a problem as it means I only have the clothes I was wearing when I landed, plus full bike gear. Though I am still luckily in possession of the seven pairs of knickers.

Christmas greetings to all those reading the blog around the world - it is still holidays here and i have to apologise for not sending this out earlier but I have been in an internet black spot (my parents' house) for the past six days.

I seem to have left some unfinished business as I haven't actually managed to get Thelma home from Mongolia.
So at the end of June (in fact shortly after the UK HU meet which was a great success) I flew to Los Angeles and picked up Thelma. I hotfooted it up to the BMW MOA Rally in Oregon - a massive event with over 5000 riders.