WELCOME HOME DÁIDEO

But you see the only snag was that when we made our way to the terminal for the ship at about 20:30hrs it was the wrong ship. Looked like ours. Berthed near ours. Same company as ours. But not ours. Not to worry, there were about 50 bikers assembled or assembling there and the hours passed pleasantly enough as we waited for the ship to arrive. One of the bikers was a Norwegian with a TransAlp fully loaded for camping who had decided to travel to the West of Ireland and Kerry via Scotland and Northern Ireland but had no maps with him and had dropped into his pal on route to get a new wheel fitted. I wondered why I had brought an Ordnance Survey map of Ireland with me on this trip but at least now I could and did donate it to a worthy cause. The ship arrived over an hour late and there were major delay getting booked on due to a computer fault. We secured the bikes, went to the bar for a while and then retired to our bunks. The weather forecast was not good…

And they were not wrong. The ship shuddered and shook as it ploughed it's way across the North Sea in gale force winds. Our cabin was facing the bow and sometimes we could see the sea and sometimes the sky. Water lashed across the deck when we hit major waves. Next morning, though I surprised myself by going for breakfast just before the restaurant closed. Many of the pre booked breakfast vouchers went unused that day! Otherwise we stayed in our cabin until the last possible minute and were glad to get to the car decks to retrieve the bikes. When we got to them there were additional tie downs attached at every conceivable angle. Clearly the crew had worked on securing the bikes after we left them. (AJ: loose end 1 tidied up). Nothing had moved and we ventured forth once more onto English soil at about 16:00 on 26 June 2007:now heading resolutely homewards.
We were delayed a bit at the Tyne Tunnel as we did not have the 2x20p tolls readily available but once through it we set course for Morley 192 kilometres away and on the M62. We very quickly adapted to driving again on the left hand side. At Scotch Corner we stopped at the A1/M1 services, where we had the first decent bit of grub in 24 hours. Amazing how good a chicken burger can taste!

Off again on the uneventful, but busy, motorway and arrived at our Travel Lodge at about 20:45 hrs. After a hot snack in the Little Chef, which was, well ... less than excellent, we adjourned for the night. We watched reports on the evening news of 250 people being evacuated from their homes near Rotherham in South Yorkshire after cracks appeared in the Ulley Dam following severe flooding that had killed three people. One was a 68 year old man and another was 14 year old Ryan Parry who was swept away by the River Sheaf in Sheffield. Another man, in his 20s, was killed in Hull as torrential rain brought chaos to much of England and Wales. The M1 was closed in South Yorkshire because of the flooding. Police said the situation was exceptional and advised people in the Sheffield area not to travel unless they had to. The weather forecast was not good…

And they were not wrong. Wednesday 27th June, 2007 saw us getting into all our wet gear before venturing along the M62 and onwards to Holyhead. We had 266 kilometres ahead of us and it looked bleak. The rain lashed down. In some ways the traffic jams on the M62 were a help as they slowed all traffic. It was difficult to see where we were going at any speed. B described it as ‘a horrible run along the M62 in what was the worst weather I have ever seen’.

At one point, I think along the M6, the weather eased and we picked up speed. We were doing about 70 mph and I was a reasonable distance behind B. Without warning his back box came adrift from its moorings (AJ: loose end 2 tidied up). It somersalted slowly in the air before landing on its lid in the middle of the lane and then started snaking its way back towards me. If I was doing 70 mph towards it and it was doing say half that towards me then we were closing at 100 mph, I think (that's 160 kph in new money!). The trick was to guess correctly whether to aim above it or below it before were reached each other. The lorry immediately behind me did not allow for a stop option. I went right, which also proved to be correct as and the box snaked left and I stopped in the hard shoulder further on. Amazing the effect shock has on the body! A passing motorist warned B that he was now a few pounds lighter and he too stopped further on. I made my way (walked would be an exaggeration) back to where the box had come to a rest, also in the hard shoulder, and retrieved it. It was intact other that a mighty pattern of scratches on its lid.

That proved to be our final adventure of the trip. B got a luggage strap at the next service area and we continued on – in the rain once more – to Holyhead. There we adjourned to … yes, you guessed it, McDonalds’s, where we spent some time - more time than I had ever spent in a McDs - eating our way through a three course meal and lots of coffee while we dried off. Considering the torrential rain we had experienced, we were not too wet overall.
The Stena crossing to Dun Laoghaire was uneventful and we made our way along the Western edges of the city to our homes. Aoife had organised a great pary to welcome her Grandad home and he appreciated it : still talks about it to this day (well done the organiser(s)).

For me the welcome was no less warm but the party waited until 23 September when all the family gathered round. That was a great afternoon. Thank you all.

B is busy plotting the next route and has sold the Blue bike, to replace it with a more powerful and brand new version for his next adventure. Thanks B, great trip in great company.

And so the story of this Blog ends. Thank you for being part of it with us. You have helped stretch it out and we got another five months out of it. To D and V who gave us the time off and put up with all the planning, preparation and fallout: THANKS. Thanks to AJ for showing me how a Blog works, and to Sharon for insisting that this trip have one. Thanks to Cecilia and Seamus for their consistent comments which kept me going and to Sinead for her enthusiasm (even if she sneaked in a few canaries while I was out of the way). Thanks to those who sent quiet emails and presumably don't want to be named. And if you have been even more quietly reading this and not made any comment so far don't let that stop you now!

From that warm June morning on a Dublin quayside to this cold November night, it's been a pleasure.

Until the next time............................................................

John

PS: where does Route 66 start?

Two Tourists, if Proof were needed

Yes, you are absuolutely right. In the early hours of this morning, the Boston RedSox won the 2007 World Series, sweeping the Rockies 4 and 0 in the best of 7 series. Just had to publish a day early this week as I know you just wanted to be sure that your newly adopted team won through. Whether you wanted to or not you have followed their adventure since June. If you Believed, then your faith has been rewarded. Celebrate now, have a great Thanksgiving and look forward to the 2008 season!

Meanwhile we left you in Stavanger having just arrived at our hotel in the late affternoon....

That evening, 24 June 2007, we walked down Gamle Stavanger, 200 years of wooden buildings in great preserve and the streets in very clean condition. B was impressed by the number of rose bushes! We kept walking till we got to the “Sting” café where once again the Rough Guide came good on its recommendation….the Chicken Satay was good and so what if we doubled the average age!

Later that night we went to the movies. This time “Death Proof” where director Quentin Tarantino (PULP FICTION) pays homage to his favorite B-movies. Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell) stalks women in his deadly vintage car, but when he picks a trio of tough girls (Rosario Dawson, Tracie Thoms, and Zoe Bell), he learns they aren’t such easy prey. As with any Tarantino film, there are plenty of nods to pop culture. Most of the scenes are deliberately short on plot development, the dialogue comes thick and fast throughout, and the film stock is often cleverly manipulated to perfectly replicate B-movies. The film was originally released as part of the Grindhouse double feature with Robert Rodriguez's Planet Terror but it bombed financially in the US and so was released alone, albeit some 20 minutes longer, in Europe. It’s different. The debate on its merits or otherwise fills pages in print and on line. I was fascinated that at the end everyone was animated and talking and debating as they left the cinema. Sign of an artist engaging with his audience? I thought so. B’s critique is short and to the point ‘What garbage – I left after 30 mins..’
Next morning we ‘did’ Stavanger much as we had done Oslo previoulsly, but making sure to test the cafes, including McDonalds. The museums were excellent. The Oil museum is an education in itself and the restaurant is top quality(thanks to I&R who compete with Rough Guide as travel guides). Next we did the Maritime museum and the Canning museum. We both enjoyed this experience. Life must have been tough a couple of hundred years ago, especially when the herring disappeared from the shores around 1890 and no one knows why. The town nearly went bankrupt.

The locals all appeared friendly ...

We also visited the Dom Kirke. It has been serving the population of Stavanger (now 100,000) since the twelfth century. B was really impressed with the hand carved wooden pulpit.
Having checked every possible shop in Stavanger we finally got the baseball caps B was looking for and then did dinner at “Sting” again. Then we saw the ship arriving in so we headed back to the hotel, retrieved our gear from the left luggage room, got back into bikers gear and hit the road once more. Until next week I’ll leave you with the pictures…………

And some time for quiet reflection as we near the end of this adventure ......................

Norwegian Mizen

Tue 23 October 2007
Happy Special Birthday, Marie!

Sun 21 October 2007.

THEY DID IT.

Those SOX are now American League Champions!

Bring on the world series!

Sunday 24th June, 2007

Rumor had it that breakfast would not be served until about 09:00 this morning. Guess what? We were up early…so I went to check. And there was already another family tucking into a full breakfast so we joined them. It meant we got another early start on a beautiful day during which we were blessed with warm sunshine for the whole trip. Our final motor biking day in Norway.

B had spotted that we were close enough to Lindesnes, which is the most southerly point in Norway so we diverted off the E39 and down the 460 to the most southerly point in Norway. There has been a lighthouse on this site for over 350 years. Indeed, in 1656 Norway’s first ever lighthouse was built, well lit - literally, here on February 27, 1656. It consisted of 30 tallow candles in the upper floor of a three-floor tower. The light was closed after only a few months. In 1725, two lighthouses were built: one on Neset at Lindesnes and the other on Markøy about two nautical miles to the northwest. In 1822 a lighthouse was built with a light that was fueled by gas. In 1854 a new lighthouse equipped with a Fresnel lens was built. The lighthouse here now was completed in 1916. At the time it housed three families who lived permanently within its walls. The old coal fire lantern from 1822 has been preserved and the lighthouse station is now a listed site. Fortifications from World War 2 are also preserved at the site. The entire complex is located within a nature reserve and recreation area. One of the lighthouse keepers, Rolf Dybvik, has a gallery just below the lighthouse and sells his watercolor paintings of the South Norwegian landscape.

At the coffee shop we had _____ and ____ (you can fill in the blanks now!). As ever the waitress did not escape lightly as B quizzed her about the meaning of Lindesnes. She went off to investigate and reported it as meaning “Lands end” but though it also meant “A windy difficult (to sail around) place”. The oldest Norse form of the name was Líðandi. That name is derived from the verb líða 'go to an end' - and the meaning is probably just 'the end'. A later form was Líðandisnes, where the word nes meaning 'headland' was added. And yes you guessed it. She was invited to ‘take the rest of the day off’. Yis are getting good now theat we are getting to the end.

The route to the lighthouse tested our essential approach to motor biking. Real motor bikers seek out roads that twist and turn and enjoy whipping their bikes around the bends at whatever speed they feel is within their competence. The route to the lighthouse was ideal. A perfect surface and endless bends of varying curvature. B loved it. He got off the bike and extolled the virtues of the narrow twisting and winding route we had just traveled. I knew then I would never be a true biker. After years and thousands of kilometers and two bikes I still did not look forward to the uncertainty of tight bends. I felt the concern at danger rather than the exhilaration at taking the risk. Too risk adverse to be a real biker. The same nature that makes me nervous when S stands on the edge or when A jumps from a plane. Not that I do not enjoy biking. On A roads and higher it a different experience to the car. Certainly nothing beats it to get by in congested cities.

At Lindesnes though, I was reminded of my first love of two-wheeled transport: the bicycle. Maybe that has been bred into us. I know I was delighted that Andrew and I got the chance to tandem from Galway to Dublin in the summer of 2006. There is something about the bicycle that makes life seem better…no, that makes life better. And here at Lindesnes I envied two cyclists at they prepared to start their Norwegian Mizen to Malin journey by starting here and heading for Nordcap – 2,500 km due north!! Good luck to them. Their families seem proud as they waved them off on what I sincerely hope was an epic journey for them. They got off to a bit of a shaky start as we passed them after a couple of kilometers having some minor difficulty. B gave them two of his lucky shamrocks and wished them well on the rest of their trip.
We made our way as far as Flekkafjord for lunch. It was a lovely warm day and Flekkafjord is a lovely spot. The photo of the café shows only one parasol raised. That was ours, at our request! We strolled around its quiet streets after our meal. Excellent. Even saw a monument to Seamus’ summer trip, or something!

Just before Stavanger we stopped for petrol. This had become a ritual. All the stations took credit cards at the pumps and were very efficient.

After 296 kilometers we reached Stavanger and the final Thon of the trip by 16:30. The Thon rose like a beacon welcoming us into the city.

For the coming week the FIVB World Tour beach volleyball event was being held in Stavanger. A few days earlier, a ship brought hundreds of tons of beach sand to the town. There was enough sand to place it half a metre deep around the harbour, where ten courts were built. There was also a barge in the harbour with 2 courts and a beach-bar. Apparently it takes about three weeks to build the main stadium, which closes the road on the north side of the harbour. Conoco Phillips is the main sponsor of the event, which brings people from all over the world. In the first couple of years it was just the men that competed here, but now it is both men and women. It brought a great atmosphere - and Stavanger is popular with the players (the large prize fund may also help) - made even more special by the visits of large cruise ships to the harbour. A side effect though, as we had discovered was that the hotels were very full. When we got to our room it sported an excellent double bed. My turn to be assertive. Our room was changed despite the hotel being ‘fully booked’. Hope whoever the later comers were they were ok with a double!! Now, lets explore Stavanger……

Big Guns

Lillistrom was ideal two days ago. Easily accessible from the North. Just follow the signposts and one dual carriageway lead into another and there you were outside the hotel. This morning though it was in an awkward spot. Wish they had left it alone. Now the city of Oslo lay between us and our route West. Our maps showed a mass of motorways and dual carriageways and streets and intersections and, well just stuff. We looked at all sorts of options for getting us past the city. All looked complicated and the forecast said rain. It's bad enough trying to read a map on a good day but in the rain? The computer programme that got them to the moon was binary. Either 1 or 0. Simple. Reduce the proiblem to somple yes or no elements. We looked at the direct route. Noted the road numbers. And trusted that at each junction we would get the key decision at that point correct. The combination of my GPS and 50 year old eyes was not up to the task of assisting to make a series of decision in quick succession on a bike even at Norwegian motorway speeds. We fell back on instinct ...and mused how Aoife would find our paper maps and basic GPS, so... well …primitive, when she goes exploring and reads of Dadio’ s exploits. Anyway, grey matter it was for today.

Oh, ye of little faith. It you suspected that the next bit of the story was of how we got lost, then you will be sadly mistaken. The old grey matter worked. We whipped from junction to junction with unerring skill (shut up, it was not blind luck) until we were securely stuck in a traffic jam beneath Oslo (literally). When will we stop moaning about Dublin? I’ve not been in a capital city yet that does not have traffic jams at 09:00 on a working day. And here we had the added beauty of the jam being self contained in its own tunnel so that the noise and fumes added to the ambience. So much better than being in the open air, don’t you think? Is that our only complaint of Norway? I think it is. Forget it: we were clear again in a while and back on excellent roads whizzing along at the highest legal speeds we had done all trip. Ripping along at 100 kph.
And then it started to rain! Rumor had it that it had not stopped raining in the British Isles, nor indeed in the UK and Ireland, but we had got used to lovely dry sunny days here. We reluctantly pulled on the wet gear and pressed on for Arendal, our destination at just 298 kilometres in total for the day. The wonderful guide in the Tourist office had a great attitude. Look, its always raining here: get used to it, accept it and enjoy what we have to offer. Fair play to you. That’s the right spirit. So we did our best. It was not difficult. It’s a lovely scenic town and it even provides free music sessions to cater for all tastes. The night sessions started around midnight (long days, remember?) so we passed some time going to the cinema to see Oceans 13. Great fun. We wondered if the disco across the road would keep us awake all night and then woke the next morning for breakfast. We paused only to remind the receptionist that she needed to move her car before parking restrictions came into force at 09:00 and were on our way once more.

Before we go here's a question. The photograph below shows the scene that greeted us on arrival in our room. A card on behalf of the Mayor of the city welcoming us to Arendal. It was placed, as you can see, dircetly on a box of chocolates. Would you expect that the box of chocolates to be included in the welcome or to be part of the 'mini bar' for which a separate charge would be levied. We disagreed and B went to check ... (I'll give you the answer in a comment)

We made our short journey to Kristiansand once again in warm sunshine. Clearly Norway regretted the wet day it had presented us with yesterday so today as we arrived they had a band out to greet us.

Not just one band but a whole festival of bands. They were massing in the square beside our hotel before marching through the town. That's why getting a room had been difficult.

We checked into the hotel and then made our way to the Canon Museum at Møvig. This has been established around the Vara Battery (named after a German engineer general), part of the defenses built by the Germans during the Second World War to guard the shipping lanes of the Skageral, which is at its narrowest point here. Denmark is only 116 kilometers away and there was a matching installation at Hanstholm in Denmark. Each of these 38 mm cannons had a range of 55 kilometers and the bit in the middle that they could not reach was mined. Construction began in 1941, and initially 1,400 men (I assume they were all men) from Norway, Denmark and Germany were involved. In 1943 200 Russian prisoners of war arrived and were there to the end of the war. However the Vara Battery used naval guns (honours students can compare and contrast with Gronsvic Kystfort from a few days back) and so the 600 strong crew included 450 naval gunners: the army guys apparently providing close defence. Trial rounds from three cannons were being fired in 1942 but it was summer 1944 before work on cannon 1 was completed with 4.5 meter thick roof and almost 4 meter thick walls being constructed (the standard thickness elsewhere on the site is 1.8 meters). This massive bunker is still visible and seems to be the only one where the roof is in place. However although 230 tons of parts for the gun arrived and were in place the barrel itself never made it. It was some job: almost 20 meters long and weighed 110 tons but on 22 February 1945 the ship on which it was being transported was sunk in the Kattegat by the RAF.

So after all the work, including 16 smaller cannons, countless bunkers, defence posts, tunnels and almost 3 kilometers of narrow gauge railway, the battery never saw active service in war. OK, it was part of the Norwegian coastal defences until 1957 and they popped off the odd trial round but that was it. In 1962 the main cannons, including what existed of cannon 1 were broken up and sold for scrap. However, for some reason cannon 2 survived: an exemplar of the work of Messrs Krupp of Essen. It’s hard to get a sense of scale. It a bit bigger than a food mixer!The whole gun is 28 meters long and weighs 337 tons. The shell was 170 cms long and weighed 800 kg; the explosive cartridge behind it weighed almost 100 kg and behind that was a charge with another 100 kg of explosives.

And now….it’s a museum. A quiet museum in a wooded glade south of Kristiansand that is a little way off the beaten track and so struggling financially as the main tourist routes pass it by. But the scale is immense. An extraordinary piece of history. Pat of the German defences. What were the French doing on the Maigenot line? That, I suspect may yet be a story for another day and another Blog. The key to avoiding depression after a major trip is to start planning the next one immeditely: Keep at it B!

We headed back to Kristiansand, with a grand total of 100 kilometres done that day, and still had plenty of time to check out it's coffee houses and street theatre. The festival bands meant there was a free show at nearly every corner.

The photos give some impression of the place. Note the quality of the McDonalds here ... mind you we must be getting more sophisticated as we skipped having a meal here today. We also came across Libris from where our maps were purchased (S3 again)

As we completed our day even the dogs smiled on us as we prepared for one last Norwegian journey!


Sox? Hanging in there although 2:1 down in the American League Championship (best of 7) Series against the Cleveland Indians. The coming week will tell a tale!