FRIDAY 6TH SEPTEMBER 2019  I finally crawled into bed just before 11pm last night having packed, repacked and packed again until I was reasonably satisfied where things were and then strapping everything to the bike so in the morning I could just get up and go.

FRIDAY 6TH SEPTEMBER 2019. At 4.45am my alarm sounded and I dragged myself from bed after a fitful nights sleep. I got togged up in my bike gear and enjoyed a last cup of ‘proper’ tea, before heading out on a dark and chilly morning. And it was only once I was around halfway down to Portsmouth that that chill started to penetrate through to me when I suddenly remembered I’d forgotten my fleece jacket. Oh well if that’s the worse thing I’ve forgotten then that’s not too bad. I can always buy another one if I pass a Decathlon somewhere, which I should as they are a French company after all! I arrived at the Brittany Ferries terminal well in time and after around 45 minutes we were ushered on board.

It was an uneventful sailing and after around 5 hours we were docking at Le Havre. Being one of only two motorbikes on board (The other was a Yamaha TDM900 with a chap and his female passenger, who had ridden all the way down from Peterborough so god only knows what time they set off!) we were the first to ride off and negotiate our way through the busy streets and with the aid of my Garmin satnav, east away from the city along the northern banks of the river Seine. I had set the satnav to avoid toll roads, so the big motorway suspension bridge heading south was by-passed and I carried on eastwards along the river bank. A few miles further on I could see the route turning right across the river, but as I rode nearer there appeared to be no signs of a bridge? It was only as I approached the rear of stationary traffic I realized they were all queing to catch a chain-ferry across to the other side. I quickly recalibrated the satnav to avoid ferries and I was off once more following the river further inland until eventually a bridge that would allow my passage south appeared in the distance. Once crossed, I settled down for the ride in pleasantly warm overcast conditions listening to a selection of country music on Spotify via my bluetooth head phones.

The only other dramas to report were petrol station fill-ups. The first was one of those that is completely automated. In the UK I always fill up and go into the shop to pay a real human being! So, it was with some trepidation that I approached this procedure, but despite instructions being in French I managed everything fine! After around a further 100 miles the bike spluttered, but before coming to a complete halt I was able to fumble around under the side of the petrol tank and turn the petrol tap on to reserve tank, giving me probably another 25 miles or so to find another station. Satnav to the rescue, or so I thought! It showed the nearest one on a detour from the main road in a village, about 6 miles away.

Having got to the village and ridden round it about 4 times it became obvious there was no filling station. After much in-helmet swearing I was just about to head back towards Orleans when I spied a sign for a supermarket together with a little picture of a fuel pump. A short drive and a sigh of relief later I was at the petrol station AND it had a real person who you could pay! Eventually I arrived in Orleans, but my hostel was south of the city. So after negotiating the traffic there I finally arrived just before 8pm. I had a good chance to practice my pidgin French as the receptionist hardly spoke any English. I was able to explain I was really hungry and where could I go to get something to eat. I was shown to a machine that dispensed sandwiches and chocolate bars. It was either that or ride 5 miles back into the city. I felt completely knackered so a dry ham sandwich and Mars bar it was then!