So with every trip you must leave and in doing so you normally have a leaving party or two! I finished working at Fforest on the 16th of Sep after a great week working at the "do lectures". I was initially dreading the craziest week in the Fforest calendar with stories of endless check ins and mountains of washing up. As it turned out it was super smooth, alot of fun and with no doubt it was down to the crack team of gypo's that make up the fforest rable!
So after some manic last minute prep on the bike and moving out of my humble caravan it was time for some leaving parties. Party number one was organised by none other than the legend Kate Emeny and involved some of the shire massive meeting up for nacho's and wine in Solva. This very nearly didn't happen as Chardonnay had a slight woopsy. I had just finished spraying and fitting my lovely new bespoke pannier racks and crash bars (thanks Gary). I arrived home parked and went inside for a well-earned beer. After saying a quick good bye to my lovely sis Shaz I saw her alot sooner than expected. She came back into the house with a pretty alarmed look on her face and informed me that she had kinda run Chardonnay over! I had to walk away and take a few very deep breathes. Luckily enough Charders is a bit of an old hobo and she took it on the chin! One broken brake leaver and a nicely duntched pannier box, not bad at all and I'm sure she'll suffer alot worse in the desert. So with no breaks getting to party number 1 wasn't looking good until Alice and matt came to my rescue in the form of personal chauffeur services.
So after some manic last minute prep on the bike and moving out of my humble caravan it was time for some leaving parties. Party number one was organised by none other than the legend Kate Emeny and involved some of the shire massive meeting up for nacho's and wine in Solva. This very nearly didn't happen as Chardonnay had a slight woopsy. I had just finished spraying and fitting my lovely new bespoke pannier racks and crash bars (thanks Gary). I arrived home parked and went inside for a well-earned beer. After saying a quick good bye to my lovely sis Shaz I saw her alot sooner than expected. She came back into the house with a pretty alarmed look on her face and informed me that she had kinda run Chardonnay over! I had to walk away and take a few very deep breathes. Luckily enough Charders is a bit of an old hobo and she took it on the chin! One broken brake leaver and a nicely duntched pannier box, not bad at all and I'm sure she'll suffer alot worse in the desert. So with no breaks getting to party number 1 wasn't looking good until Alice and matt came to my rescue in the form of personal chauffeur services.
Party number 2 was up at good old Llanlwni Mountain with the usual west Wales suspects! We had a great night up there and shared some Tudor rose with Chris, lucky and Rambo. A small hard-core stayed the night camping and I'm pretty sure it was the shittiest weather we had all year. So after waking up in 2 inches of water we had to get down the mountain for a fry up at Jan Harley's. I had been bump starting Chardonnay as the starter had decided to pack up the 2 day before I left, perfect. No problem I thought, plenty of strong lads up the mountain, should be easy. What I didn't take into account was how little grip there was on the mountain. To cut a long story short I had to push her all the way to the road in horizontal rain and all the way I was thinking that this heavy lump is meant get me to south Africa!
Onto party number 3. So Jen, our amazing boss at Fforest, had organised a joint "tam driving off to Africa" and "well done Fforest gypo's" party. All the team were mustered up and we drank too much local ale, cider and fired up the famous Fforest pizza oven.
So after all that, all I had to do was pack up the bike and orders the spare parts and arrange delivery to London town, easy. So after packing the bike up a few times and eventually finding the system that least resembled the leaning tower of pizza, I only had to double check my paperwork. To my alarm it dawned on me that I may have been bump starting Chardonnay around with no mot, shit! A few manic phone calls later and I had her booked in on the way through Carmarthen, sketchy counts!
So the next morn I said my emotional good buys and wobbled off down the road pretty worried about a motorbike that that felt more like a boat.
So after all that, all I had to do was pack up the bike and orders the spare parts and arrange delivery to London town, easy. So after packing the bike up a few times and eventually finding the system that least resembled the leaning tower of pizza, I only had to double check my paperwork. To my alarm it dawned on me that I may have been bump starting Chardonnay around with no mot, shit! A few manic phone calls later and I had her booked in on the way through Carmarthen, sketchy counts!
So the next morn I said my emotional good buys and wobbled off down the road pretty worried about a motorbike that that felt more like a boat.
Getting to London town-Tam
So my little drama of not having an mot was quickly resolved and the guys at the motorbike shop were really nice. After pointing out a few things that were advisories (like my modified brake levers) he proceeded to give me a clean mot sheet? With a smile he told that he couldn't have me going off to Africa with any blemishes on my paperwork and insisted I had a free can of chain lube. Feeling quite high off the positive encouragement they gave me, rather than the normal "are you off your tits?" routine, I set off to Cardiff.
After a quick pit stop in Crosshands to have a farewell hug with the one and only Ria beer I was inbound to Splott. I got to India's and was promptly fed an omelette and beans, what a leg end! After a few hours banter with my part time sis, is was time to leave the ghetto of Splott. With an emotional good by strung out a bit with me having to wack my starter motor with chunk of wood I had taken to carrying about! After getting through the rush hour traffic and onto the motorway, I realised I had forgotten my phone. What a muppet, so I dragged my sorry arse back through rush hour and managed to do an equally awkward good bye, with more bashing of Chardonnay to get her started!
On to Bristol I went. I've found that riding on the bike you get alot of thinking time, mostly what the hell am I doing? Anyway I arrived in Bristol at Meg's new house and was chuffed to find George Wilson and Rob Hartley waiting to help bring all my stuff in. We had a great night involving pizza and beer but it was a pretty early one as I was knackered.
The next stage was off to see the feisty Jo warren (and I must admit I was quite happy I had to wait for the starter motor parts to arrive) in London town. So the first thing I noticed about London compared to any other British city I had been too, was how nuts the motorcyclist are. Mr country bumpkin here was waiting politely in traffic while a load of complete mentalists in suits weave in and out of bus's pulling off some suicidal moves. So eventually I made it to Jo's house and I was so chuffed to see her. So my initial plan of 3 days went out the window and I ended up staying 10! So for the next ten days I had an absolutely amazing time checking out London, eating lots of nice food, catching up with friends, sourcing motorbike parts, moving house with a partially crippled lady and best of all hanging out with that partially crippled lady. London did strike me as a proper city up there will the global big boys like New York, Bangkok and Paris and unlike any other British city I have been too. Strangely for me I did really enjoy and I'll definitely be back.
So my little drama of not having an mot was quickly resolved and the guys at the motorbike shop were really nice. After pointing out a few things that were advisories (like my modified brake levers) he proceeded to give me a clean mot sheet? With a smile he told that he couldn't have me going off to Africa with any blemishes on my paperwork and insisted I had a free can of chain lube. Feeling quite high off the positive encouragement they gave me, rather than the normal "are you off your tits?" routine, I set off to Cardiff.
After a quick pit stop in Crosshands to have a farewell hug with the one and only Ria beer I was inbound to Splott. I got to India's and was promptly fed an omelette and beans, what a leg end! After a few hours banter with my part time sis, is was time to leave the ghetto of Splott. With an emotional good by strung out a bit with me having to wack my starter motor with chunk of wood I had taken to carrying about! After getting through the rush hour traffic and onto the motorway, I realised I had forgotten my phone. What a muppet, so I dragged my sorry arse back through rush hour and managed to do an equally awkward good bye, with more bashing of Chardonnay to get her started!
On to Bristol I went. I've found that riding on the bike you get alot of thinking time, mostly what the hell am I doing? Anyway I arrived in Bristol at Meg's new house and was chuffed to find George Wilson and Rob Hartley waiting to help bring all my stuff in. We had a great night involving pizza and beer but it was a pretty early one as I was knackered.
The next stage was off to see the feisty Jo warren (and I must admit I was quite happy I had to wait for the starter motor parts to arrive) in London town. So the first thing I noticed about London compared to any other British city I had been too, was how nuts the motorcyclist are. Mr country bumpkin here was waiting politely in traffic while a load of complete mentalists in suits weave in and out of bus's pulling off some suicidal moves. So eventually I made it to Jo's house and I was so chuffed to see her. So my initial plan of 3 days went out the window and I ended up staying 10! So for the next ten days I had an absolutely amazing time checking out London, eating lots of nice food, catching up with friends, sourcing motorbike parts, moving house with a partially crippled lady and best of all hanging out with that partially crippled lady. London did strike me as a proper city up there will the global big boys like New York, Bangkok and Paris and unlike any other British city I have been too. Strangely for me I did really enjoy and I'll definitely be back.
There was one more excursion I took to meet up with my family in good old Southend on Sea. It had been way too long since I had caught up with all my cousins and nieces and nephews. Another solid reminder of how quickly time moves on, with lots of teenagers and kind running around causing mayhem. Was great to catch up and have a farewell to my ever solid sister and the notorious asbo gay dog, Finn. No surprises that he was sporting another 3 staples in his back, making it his 4th injury this year. Almost as twp as twm, sorry Ind's. After lots of tea, an amazing lunch and plenty of horror stories about how dangerous Africa was, it was time for me to head back to miss Jo's house for a glass of wine.
With my starter motor rebuilt and the last few nick nacks, it was off to the White cliffs of Dover.
With my starter motor rebuilt and the last few nick nacks, it was off to the White cliffs of Dover.
France here we come-Tam
So I woke up at 6 in the morning to be on the bike for about 7.15, giving me an ample 3 and a half hours to do the 85 miles. That’s another thing I discovered about London, the traffic is horrendous. In not too long my country boy ways went out the window and I was weaving in and out of traffic like all the suites. So it took 2 and a half hours to do 25 miles! As soon as I hit the motorway it was flat out for poor old Chardonnay but I was really happy with how she was running. So with 15 mins I made it to the ferry and I was Europe bound. I think that was the first time the enormity of what I was doing hit me and I felt a wee bit lonely standing on the back deck looking at the big White chalk cliffs slowly disappearing.
So I woke up at 6 in the morning to be on the bike for about 7.15, giving me an ample 3 and a half hours to do the 85 miles. That’s another thing I discovered about London, the traffic is horrendous. In not too long my country boy ways went out the window and I was weaving in and out of traffic like all the suites. So it took 2 and a half hours to do 25 miles! As soon as I hit the motorway it was flat out for poor old Chardonnay but I was really happy with how she was running. So with 15 mins I made it to the ferry and I was Europe bound. I think that was the first time the enormity of what I was doing hit me and I felt a wee bit lonely standing on the back deck looking at the big White chalk cliffs slowly disappearing.
In no time the ferry was over and I was in Calais. So I rolled off the boat and got into a steady driving rhythm chugging down the super smooth motorways. On that first day I made really good progress and ended up camping near Reims. So in true Cobbett gypo style I pulled off the motorway and camped down an embankment nestled in some trees. As with most trips getting in the flow at the beginning is hard. I think I made it especially hard for myself meeting somebody so good just before I left :( at least it a great incentive to come home!
So I awoke from my little motorway home and carried on down through France. I stopped to grab a baguette and chunk of Camembert (a service station special) when I bumped into an English guy driving his new cb 600 back to Geneva. We sat down and shared some lunch and ended up riding most of the day together, until I peeled off to head into central Switzerland. I put in a long days riding and ended up on the Swiss/Italian border not far from Chamonix in another amazing rest stop. All over France and Switzerland they have these amazing picnic sites on the motorway. This one had toilets, telephones, bins, picnic tables, covered eating area and some great landscaped areas that were perfect to pitch my tent.
The next day I figured I was one long days drive from Venice and the ferry to Greece. I started nice and early and drove a stunning road that meandered all the way to the top of an alpine pass. The tunnel at the top was the most direct route but I figured the winding old road over the pass would have better views and be more fun. Both were true but when I had done the 15km to the other side of the tunnel I was greeted with an impregnable barrier and had to back track back and pay the tunnel fee anyhow.
The rest of the day was just motorway slog all the way to Venice. This was made worse by hitting Milan in rush hour, being kitted up in all the gear in 28c heat in crawling traffic was definitely no fun. In fact driving through Italy's industrial heartland was pretty grim, thick pollution haze and loads of fast moving Lorries choking up the roads. I arrived at my campsite pretty late and pretty pissed to be paying €17 for a patch of grass! But I had made to Venice in 3 days."
Sodding Venice-Tam
So i wad really chuffed to have made it to Venice and was looking forwards to having a shower and doing a day’s tourist stuff before I hit the ferry and Greece. The campsite was a bit naff and was kinda like an 18-30 backpackers/ old fart camper van Butlins, nice! Anyway I spent the day hanging around Venice and was truly amazed and bemused with the architecture and the general bonkerness of the place. I kept thinking what a crazy and unsustainable place it was and asking question like "where does all the poo go when Ur only 2ft above sea level?" Anyway I took the advice of Miss Warren and ate a pizza, drank a coffee and finished up with some overpriced ice cream. I felt like I had got lost enough and had my fill of Venice. I was ready to go home to my tent, have a shower and do maintenance on my bike before my ferry trip in the morn, easy.
So when I got back I started to take my back wheel off to fit new wheel bearings. When I took the wheel to pieces I was horrified to find a load of shredded metal filings and a handful of loose, dry bearings. What I soon realised was that the rear wheel had a third larger bearing next to the sprocket. I had two sets of spare wheel bearings but no larger sprocket bearing. After a restless night I phoned the part company in the UK and was assured the parts would arrive at the campsite in 2 days. No real panic, so I spend another day Venice but was soon fed up with the overpriced food and unless you want to buy a tacky opera mask or some rip off Gucci bags there really is nothing to buy. Another thing that adds to the craziness of Venice, it has no super markets, proper shops and alot of the houses are empty and only lit up to add to the ambience! It's is a city that is a sinking theme park. So I was stranded in the confides of Italian Butlins for five days as inevitably the courier took five days not two. My life was pretty boring and I saved mundane jobs like washing for as late in the day as possible. One highlight was the puncturing of my Thermarest which involved finding the puncture and fixing it, that was a pretty sweet day. Apart from that I spend a fortune on shitty wifi cards that ran out before they should have sorting out logistics and talking to home on skype.
So i wad really chuffed to have made it to Venice and was looking forwards to having a shower and doing a day’s tourist stuff before I hit the ferry and Greece. The campsite was a bit naff and was kinda like an 18-30 backpackers/ old fart camper van Butlins, nice! Anyway I spent the day hanging around Venice and was truly amazed and bemused with the architecture and the general bonkerness of the place. I kept thinking what a crazy and unsustainable place it was and asking question like "where does all the poo go when Ur only 2ft above sea level?" Anyway I took the advice of Miss Warren and ate a pizza, drank a coffee and finished up with some overpriced ice cream. I felt like I had got lost enough and had my fill of Venice. I was ready to go home to my tent, have a shower and do maintenance on my bike before my ferry trip in the morn, easy.
So when I got back I started to take my back wheel off to fit new wheel bearings. When I took the wheel to pieces I was horrified to find a load of shredded metal filings and a handful of loose, dry bearings. What I soon realised was that the rear wheel had a third larger bearing next to the sprocket. I had two sets of spare wheel bearings but no larger sprocket bearing. After a restless night I phoned the part company in the UK and was assured the parts would arrive at the campsite in 2 days. No real panic, so I spend another day Venice but was soon fed up with the overpriced food and unless you want to buy a tacky opera mask or some rip off Gucci bags there really is nothing to buy. Another thing that adds to the craziness of Venice, it has no super markets, proper shops and alot of the houses are empty and only lit up to add to the ambience! It's is a city that is a sinking theme park. So I was stranded in the confides of Italian Butlins for five days as inevitably the courier took five days not two. My life was pretty boring and I saved mundane jobs like washing for as late in the day as possible. One highlight was the puncturing of my Thermarest which involved finding the puncture and fixing it, that was a pretty sweet day. Apart from that I spend a fortune on shitty wifi cards that ran out before they should have sorting out logistics and talking to home on skype.
On day 5 my parts came at 11 and the ferry started boarding at 11.30, so I chucked everything on the bike, paid my extortionate bill and was on my way. I got on the ferry with no hassle and all I had to do was 1250 miles in 4 days, definitely possible.
Greece-Tam
I love being on ferries and this one was no exception. Sailing out of Venice was pretty spectacular having a commanding view over the city and being on a full size cruise ship in such a narrow waterway was again, very surreal. Being the low season it was nice and empty I just hung out, ate and took some photos. When I arrived in Greece I knew I needed to get to a motorcycle shop (if there was one) as I didn't have the tools to get the old bearings out if the wheel. I drove around a wee while but had no luck. I saw two Greek motorcycle coppers and decided to see how helpful they would be. To my surprise they were amazing and told me to follow them. They took me on a load of back roads and eventually we turned up at a Yamaha dealer with a full work shop. After some chit chat about Swansea fc they buggered of and left me at the shop. Of course it was siesta time and the owner informed me he wouldn't be open for another 4 hours but for me he would try and make it 3. True to his word he woke the Welsh gypo from his sleep outside his shop 3 hours later. With the right tools he made quick work if fitting the new parts. To my amazement he insisted on no money and wished me luck on my way. I must admit I can be very cynical and often judgmental when it comes to people but time and time again when traveling people show the greatest kindness. I think with travelling (and in life) you have to have a very subtle but strong defensive wall to protect yourself but finding the balance for this wall is tricky, as it's easy to become paranoid of peoples genuinely good natures. After a pretty average camp by the side of the beautiful new Greek highway that had many sweeping bends clinging to mountain sides and long new tunnels, I soon found myself at the Turkish border. I figured this would be a cruise but turned out to be a bit of an endurance event. Loads of guys in aviators, horrible polyester suits and very pointy shoes sending me all over the place in a vague manner, demanding this stamp or this paper be got. Whilst I was walking backwards and forwards I went over and introduced myself to a very tall swede on a 1983 Honda 900 something or other. We had a quick chat and did the normal where are you from and where are you going routine but it looked like the men in black wouldn't let him in as he had forgotten his registration documents. I recounted my bearing story and consoled him that we all make mistakes. We shook hands and separated on our own missions. Another hurdle passed, I was in turkey.
I love being on ferries and this one was no exception. Sailing out of Venice was pretty spectacular having a commanding view over the city and being on a full size cruise ship in such a narrow waterway was again, very surreal. Being the low season it was nice and empty I just hung out, ate and took some photos. When I arrived in Greece I knew I needed to get to a motorcycle shop (if there was one) as I didn't have the tools to get the old bearings out if the wheel. I drove around a wee while but had no luck. I saw two Greek motorcycle coppers and decided to see how helpful they would be. To my surprise they were amazing and told me to follow them. They took me on a load of back roads and eventually we turned up at a Yamaha dealer with a full work shop. After some chit chat about Swansea fc they buggered of and left me at the shop. Of course it was siesta time and the owner informed me he wouldn't be open for another 4 hours but for me he would try and make it 3. True to his word he woke the Welsh gypo from his sleep outside his shop 3 hours later. With the right tools he made quick work if fitting the new parts. To my amazement he insisted on no money and wished me luck on my way. I must admit I can be very cynical and often judgmental when it comes to people but time and time again when traveling people show the greatest kindness. I think with travelling (and in life) you have to have a very subtle but strong defensive wall to protect yourself but finding the balance for this wall is tricky, as it's easy to become paranoid of peoples genuinely good natures. After a pretty average camp by the side of the beautiful new Greek highway that had many sweeping bends clinging to mountain sides and long new tunnels, I soon found myself at the Turkish border. I figured this would be a cruise but turned out to be a bit of an endurance event. Loads of guys in aviators, horrible polyester suits and very pointy shoes sending me all over the place in a vague manner, demanding this stamp or this paper be got. Whilst I was walking backwards and forwards I went over and introduced myself to a very tall swede on a 1983 Honda 900 something or other. We had a quick chat and did the normal where are you from and where are you going routine but it looked like the men in black wouldn't let him in as he had forgotten his registration documents. I recounted my bearing story and consoled him that we all make mistakes. We shook hands and separated on our own missions. Another hurdle passed, I was in turkey.
Turkey-Tam
So after my hot, boring and frustrating border experience I was keen to find a bed and some dinner. As always I was trying to figure out the roads, any particular things to look out for and trying to gauge the general temperament of the drivers. Apart from some weird roundabout/crossroads on the highways the roads seemed pretty good and the drivers seemed fairly biker conscious. So after about 45 mins I pulled into a big newly built hotel. The guy running the show was a really keen biker and just about forced me to stay but in the best way possible. Whilst he was helping me park my bike and unload my luggage we saw what looked like a very old 900cc Honda fly down the road. Sure enough within 5 mins the tall swede called Nicholas had turned around and was unpacking his bike next to me.
Next morning with both woke after a good sleep and a much needed internet fix. We had an unusual breakfast and tried to be positive about the couple of days crap, wet weather we were due to drive into.
Our thin veneer of optimism didn't last long as we entered the motorway bottle neck of Istanbul. This was probably the worst days riding I have had so far. The roads were super busy, super slippery, it was really cold and the brown mist that kept clogging up my visor made visibility a nightmare. To make matters worse every few kilometres we came through these in unmanned toll booths. With no idea what to do we kept driving through setting off alarms with different amounts of money flashing up for each bike and each different toll, very confusing. Eventually the roads thinned out, became less busy and we could relax a little.
Well after dark we decided it was time to get off the motorway and find a room for the night. This became a bit if an issue as we had no motorway card to swipe out of the system? After waking some guys up, being told to drive back up the slip roads the wrong way a few times and travel down the motorway further, we eventually got a card that enabled us to travel on the motorways legally. It was only after another minor epic finding a hotel that, at dinner, Nicholas and I actually asked each other our names. We both agreed that it was a very strange time to ask such a basic question, especially after the crazy mission we had just shared.
So after my hot, boring and frustrating border experience I was keen to find a bed and some dinner. As always I was trying to figure out the roads, any particular things to look out for and trying to gauge the general temperament of the drivers. Apart from some weird roundabout/crossroads on the highways the roads seemed pretty good and the drivers seemed fairly biker conscious. So after about 45 mins I pulled into a big newly built hotel. The guy running the show was a really keen biker and just about forced me to stay but in the best way possible. Whilst he was helping me park my bike and unload my luggage we saw what looked like a very old 900cc Honda fly down the road. Sure enough within 5 mins the tall swede called Nicholas had turned around and was unpacking his bike next to me.
Next morning with both woke after a good sleep and a much needed internet fix. We had an unusual breakfast and tried to be positive about the couple of days crap, wet weather we were due to drive into.
Our thin veneer of optimism didn't last long as we entered the motorway bottle neck of Istanbul. This was probably the worst days riding I have had so far. The roads were super busy, super slippery, it was really cold and the brown mist that kept clogging up my visor made visibility a nightmare. To make matters worse every few kilometres we came through these in unmanned toll booths. With no idea what to do we kept driving through setting off alarms with different amounts of money flashing up for each bike and each different toll, very confusing. Eventually the roads thinned out, became less busy and we could relax a little.
Well after dark we decided it was time to get off the motorway and find a room for the night. This became a bit if an issue as we had no motorway card to swipe out of the system? After waking some guys up, being told to drive back up the slip roads the wrong way a few times and travel down the motorway further, we eventually got a card that enabled us to travel on the motorways legally. It was only after another minor epic finding a hotel that, at dinner, Nicholas and I actually asked each other our names. We both agreed that it was a very strange time to ask such a basic question, especially after the crazy mission we had just shared.
The next day was fairly uneventful and we passed through the city of Ankara in the heart of turkey. We did do some food shopping as we both fancied camping out somewhere nice. We pulled off the motorway and wet offroad and ended up in the shadows of a beautiful extinct volcano with an amazing sunset. Whilst eating dinner I had one of those “I’m a very lucky boy" and "I really do enjoy life" moments, that are definitely more frequent when on an adventure or traveling.
I woke up really excited knowing that I would see Marc and Suz that evening, after all the hurdles and problems tonight would be the night. We made good progress and were only 30km from the border town of Rehenahli when we stopped to take a photo of the valley stretching off into the distance and into Syria.
I woke up really excited knowing that I would see Marc and Suz that evening, after all the hurdles and problems tonight would be the night. We made good progress and were only 30km from the border town of Rehenahli when we stopped to take a photo of the valley stretching off into the distance and into Syria.
Nicholas pulled off to take the lead and he looked like he was enjoying the amazing sweeping road that had wide hairpin after hairpin to the valley floor. When I arrived at the valley floor, a good distance behind Nicholas I noticed the immediate left hand junction to our border town. I guess that he didn't and after waiting 40 mins and driving down the other road for quite a while I decided it was time to go. So our parting was just as unorthodox as our meeting. I hope you’re still having fun on the road; it was a pleasure traveling together and still not 100% about your mental health!
So the next chapter was almost ready to start. I rolled into town and met up with Marc and Suz. It's always strange to meet up with people who are so familiar in such unfamiliar places, especially when you've just ridden your motorbike from the UK. Syria here we come!
So the next chapter was almost ready to start. I rolled into town and met up with Marc and Suz. It's always strange to meet up with people who are so familiar in such unfamiliar places, especially when you've just ridden your motorbike from the UK. Syria here we come!
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