It took 10h30m to cross Wales & England on a very wet and dark night.
Sure I thought it was going to be a dawdle. What a miscalculation? Like an eejit, when I booked the ferry I anticipated a moonlit warm midsummer night with gently breezes and only four hours of partial darkness. Surely there would be only light traffic and the Queen’s highways are the well maintained pride of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Wrong on every count.
The rain had started ten minuets from embarking. I put on my wet suit about half an hour into the journey and promptly burst the zip. In order to get some service out of it I used bungees to try and close it. Velcro to the groin and bound by bungees waist and chest. What a sight. I was looking like Johnie 40 Coats.
The rain was like a commercial irrigation system out of control and the off switch broken.
Major roadworks caused lane closures. The road surfaces had tracks of polished tar and legacy lines which were the remains of traffic lane indicators and cats eye pot marks. Compound this with the road spray from HGVs and the reflection from a million traffic cones. To suggest it was exciting is an understatement. This was the real deal. A white knuckle ride of destiny. Any mistake or lack of concentration could be fatal. I’ll remember this cross country run for a while. I took breaks every hour with hot beverages. Also a wee snooze around The Witching Hour was good. Thank goodness for the Pinlock System. My visor did not steam up and believe me that was so important. There are no wipers on a motorcycle helmet. Although by four a.m. it did mist up, fortunately day was dawning and the rain was dissipating.
I had a midnight feast of homemade ham sandwiches on my own sourdough bread lovingly prepared by Audrey. A farewell gift. Num num.
Ferry crossing to Holland is seven hours. Plenty of time to blog. First dispatch from Michael’s Viking Odyssey. More to follow.