France

Yesterday Id agreed with myself (too much alone time?) that I would not go into Strasbourg. 

True to my word, next day, I woke up at six, broke camp and rode straight into the city.

The city straddles the border so half is German, the other half French. Its nice enough, but my favourite moment was meeting the smacked up homeless guy. 

He heard the Dr approaching and left his missus, dog and sleeping bag on the pavement and walked around the bike. 

With his orbit complete, his face cracked into a smile, he put up his thumbs, nodded at me smiling and said "yeah!"

I know what he meant, he and I are alike. I'm riding an all terrain freedom machine. It can go where your heart desires. Its cool as fuck and we both understood it.

I hit the open and endless French roads after that, passing forest, farms and churches.

 One thing I note passing though France is the number of war monuments.  This one was different, it's Saint Mihiel an American War cemetery and the final resting place of US soldiers from both wars. 

I hadn't walked through one before and it was unexpectedly moving and thought provoking. All these sons, brothers and fathers that left and did not return, their bodies forever owned by a land foreign to them. I'm not sure I would want that. 

The other striking thought was to the might, grandeur and general 'Americana' of the site. I passed other mass graveyards, but they were modest and not like this one.  I haven't seen mass graves in the UK. A place that reminds of the sacrifices of others that fought in your lands. Humbling.

I rejoined the never ending freedom ribbon..

I've been to France a few times, riding and skiing the mountains, seeing the beautiful Château de Chambord, with the beautiful Sarah,  visiting the coasts and now the graves. I wondered what else there was.

A stay over at 'Moto La Grange' brought a different perspective on Moto camping and new french experiences. 

 A campsite owned by a  Dutch biker couple, aimed at bikers where I was welcomed and catered for with a three course meal. Anita, the host and main chef, said this is what Dutch bikers like.  I need to know more Dutch bikers. 

Below, a 130hp 130nm torque custom Harley. 

Its brilliant here.  I had a fantastic night meeting new people, trying Harley's, talking bike and travels and eating a great meal accompanied by (much) french beer. Its potentially opened up a new world of biker camp sites.  Loved it. 

 Unbeknownst to me, the following day was a 'no work day' in France. That was the term described to me when I asked if it was public holiday. 

The roads and towns were empty, schools closed and every business was shut. It was dead, even petrol could only be purchased via automated machines. 

An old boy fishing and clearly enjoying no work day

No work day for the windmill.

No work day at the chateau.

However,. I passed through three towns where the roads were blocked as everyone was having a jumble sale, selling loads of tat on the road. 

It was like National TKMax day, everything you don't need or want, was for sale on the street. Drawing crowds of people from everywhere, cars haphazardly abandoned like the zombie apocalypse had arrived.

On all occasions i used the farmers field lanes to bypass the buying frenzy. 

Fuelled by nuts and dried fruit purchased the day before (a must work day) I made it to the chunnel. 

The chap above is from China. It's taken him 12 days to ride from China to England via Russia. He has a little time off work and wanted to see Europe.  He rides fast. 

He is also quite tall and his wrists were blistered and really badly burned by the sun. His coat and gloves not quite stretching over his Lurch arms. Must be giant in China. 

A wall of fame at the chunnel. All those brothers and sisters that passed before me.