Overlooking Newcastle upon Tyne the is the Angel of the North
An imposing piece of public art that hovers on a hill above the Tyne and Newcastle.
There were also some angels of the north at Mo Tech the Moto Guzzi dealer in Newcastle.
The provided me a bit of space out the weather to make a running repair.
Angels come in different forms
It’s been 17 years since I visited the UK
December 1999
A cold wet winter of long nights and freezing days.
This trip its summer and the days are long, damp and cool. Not all the different from the Australian winter I left behind.
With help from local guzzista I have the mighty breva II ready for this adventure.
This adventure starts in Stoke on Trent, once the porcelain capital of the world. Here I collected the Moto Guzzi, I’ve bought in the UK.
I rode up the motorway to Glasgow through the damp air and rolling green fields.
To be greeted by the march of the orange men and woman.
The loyalists.
Flying the flags trooping the colours and beating the drum
I reflected that this is what confronts and challenges the UK.
Great glories of the past celebrating victories a century or more old. Masking an underlying anger and frustration that divides the country. Orange VS Green, North VS South, the pro brexit VS the anti brexit. It’s a challenging time.
And as I ponder this there is the beautiful architecture of Glasgow.
The great Victorian design from designers like Rennie Macintosh.
And the music
In the streets and pubs.
Cold and damp Glasgow has struggled through some tough times.
But as the city’s new motto says
People make Glasgow
It was a boys big bike bash
looping Tassie like it was a race track
Roaring bikes
From the cold damp west coast
Misty wet Queenstown
settled in the heart of the wild west coast
windy roads in the mountains
constant dam filling drizzle and rain
looping across to the east coast
The beautiful fishing harbour of St Helens at dawn
Fresh fish washed down by local beer and wine
The mountains
Elephant Pass and St Mary’s Pass clinging to the side of the mountains range.
From the coast climbing the past Poatina
Up onto the high plains
Winding through Bothwell
The home of the worlds best merino wool
and the high plains lakes
The nature was not the only thing of beauty
In Hobart there we visited a magnificent collection of classic bikes
Perfect for a Boys big bike bash
I’ve looked at Tassie from both sides now
from in and out
and still somehow
Its Tassie’s illusion I recall
I really don’t know Tassie at all
(will apologies to Joni Mitchell)
I’m going to Tassie again
I place I can always go back to
find something new and beautiful
In Australian smallest State
An island State, part of an island nation.
Looking out across the blue clear waters that surround Tassie.
Looking in from coastal anchorages at
At storms rolling past
At the play of the light on the rocky shoreline
Looking in to tight harbour entrances
Sitting safe in historic ports
Travelling through beautiful wilderness
And a quirkiness that is only Tassie
Next month I’m going back to Tassie again
Taking the mighty Breva down for her second trip
I hope the sun never sets on my Tasmania adventures.
After over 7,000ks traversing swathes of southern Germany, Switzerland, France with some tastes of Austria, Italy and Spain, there was Bouillon.
Second taste of Belgium on this adventure and a further taste of beautiful Belgium beer.
I discussed the best beers in the world with a couple of Dutch and Germans in Coles Bay, Tasmania. All extolling our nationalistic beer pride when others turned to me and said as one;
You haven’t had Belgium beer. The really make the best.”
And drinking a duvel over looking the Bouillon I seconded their opinion.
Bouillon was a bitter sweet discovery.
Bouillon in beautiful as is the Semios Valley.
The last night of the Moto Guzzi adventure – as the next day was Nijmegen where this part of the European adventure stated only a short 3 weeks earlier.
The mighty Breva had completed over 7000k visited 7 countries. Racing down, unrestricted motorways, climbing ridiculously steep tracks, and through narrow lanes barely wider than the pannier cases without missing a beat.
It was part of the European adventure that finished there.
I’m sitting in Madrid having visited one of the oldest cities in Europe, Cadiz and walked the grounds of the amazing Alhambra and as the might Breva crosses the Indian Ocean in its crate it’s a good time to write the closing blog on that part of the adventure.
